Ordinary Time 6 - Beatitudes, Part 3/3

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 6

February 15, 2026

Beatitudes, Part 3/3

 

            Today we conclude our discussion of these great rules for happiness, Jesus’ eight Beatitudes (if you missed the first two in this homily series, you can find them on the St. Jude’s website).

            Jesus goes on to say, “Blessed are the pure of heart.” This refers to the virtue of chastity. Most people view chastity in the negative – don’t have sexual intimacy out of marriage – but it’s actually a positive virtue, as it means seeing another person made in the Image of God and respecting them as such. John Paul II says that the opposite of love isn’t hatred, but rather using. Lust is precisely that – using a person for sexual pleasure – while chastity safeguards authentic human love, the desire to give and not to use.

            The story goes that two bishops were walking through the streets of Rome when a very scantily clad woman passed by. One bishop looked down to the ground in embarrassment, while the other one looked into her face as she walked by. When she had passed, the first bishop reproached the other one and said, “Why didn’t you look away? Didn’t you see what she was wearing…or rather, what she wasn’t wearing?” The wiser and holier bishop replied, “No, I only saw a soul.” Being pure of heart allows us to see God – and it allows us to see God in each person we encounter, because we don’t want to use them for our pleasure, but love them for the child of God they are.

            Our seventh Beatitude is, “Blessed are the peacemakers”. I doubt anyone who uses Twitter could ever qualify! The best way to develop peace, both the inner peace of a right relationship with God and exterior peace, is the virtue of magnanimity. This virtue is the opposite of pettiness. Someone who’s petty is always finding a tempest in a teapot; a magnanimous person has an eternal perspective. Consider – all the stuff we get worked up about, will it matter in twenty-four hours, let alone in eternity? So what if someone cut you off in traffic – what does it really matter? So our mother-in-law insulted us – why do we care so much?

            Magnanimity is seeing things through the eyes of God – so it is no wonder that those who wish to be peacemakers will be children of God. There is a beautiful story from the life of St. Dominic Savio, the schoolboy saint who died at the young age of 15. Two of the boys in his class were in an argument which escalated and they threatened to fight each other after school on the playground. Dominic overheard their tiff, so he met them on the playground after school. Immediately the boys thought he was there to be a tattletale, but Dominic insisted, “I won’t tell anyone about your fight, but on two conditions.” He pulled a crucifix from his pocket and said, “You must first say out loud, ‘Jesus Christ, You died for me, and I am going to offend You by harming my brother, for whom You also died.’ And second, you must throw the first stones at me.” The boys were moved by his courage and kindness, and they immediately dropped their rocks as their anger drained out of them. Dominic could be a peacemaker because he had this magnanimity – the eternal perspective which realized that a sin of anger was far worse than even an injury. Seeing things from God’s eyes!

            If you’re having trouble finding peace, might I recommend the beautiful prayer written by St. Theresa of Avila? It goes like this:

Let nothing disturb you,

Let nothing frighten you,

All things are passing away:

God never changes.

Patience obtains all things

Whoever has God lacks nothing;

God alone suffices.

            This is magnanimity – this leads to peace!

            Finally, Jesus praises those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness. St. Cyril of Jerusalem once said, “No one can avoid the malice of the wicked, no matter how we live our life.” We could be the best and holiest person around and we will still face persecutions on two fronts: first, misunderstandings from even our friends and family about how we live our faith; and second, persecutions from the Evil One in the form of temptations and spiritual oppression.

            So the virtue in this case is the courage to endure out of love. We can suffer all things if we keep our eyes on the prize: eternal life with Christ. My father used to smoke cigarettes daily, but when he proposed to my mom, she refused to marry a man who smoked. So he gave it up cold-turkey – not easy, but love was a stronger motivator than nicotine. Likewise, we will have courage despite internal and external trials, if our love for God is stronger.

            And how many saints have gone before us who were opposed in their pursuit of holiness! We are given so many heroes who were persecuted – in every country, every age. They believed with every fiber of their being that Jesus was worth living and dying for. One of my favorites is the first Japanese-born saint, St. Paul Miki. He was educated by the Jesuits and converted to Catholicism, becoming a Jesuit priest himself. But the Emperor was suspicious of how this new Western religion was spreading, and felt his power threatened. So he made Christianity illegal in Japan in the late 1500s.

            The government rounded up 26 Christians in Nagasaki. Led by Fr. Paul Miki, they were led up a large hill to be crucified. But as he was dying, St. Paul Miki’s speech was the most significant. First, he proclaimed himself a Japanese – making the point that Christianity was not just a Western religion, but one that could be embraced by every culture. Second, he said, “Now that I am about to die, you would not assume that I would lie. So hear me speak the truth: Jesus Christ is Lord!” He continued to preach the Gospel, even from the Cross. Finally, his final words were: “After Christ’s example I forgive my persecutors. I do not hate them. I ask God to have pity on all, and I hope my blood will fall on my fellow men as a fruitful rain.” He died forgiving the very people putting him to death!

            After the death of the 26 Japanese martyrs, there were no more priests allowed into Japan for three centuries – so the faith had to become deeply hidden. The Bible was passed down orally, and people would gather to pray in secret but they had no more Eucharist. Finally, in the late 1870s, a couple missionary priests returned to Japan and expected to find Catholicism extinguished – but instead, they found 30,000 hidden Christians who approached them cautiously and told them, “Our ancestors said there would be followers of Jesus to visit us once again, but we are not sure if you are the right ones. Can you answer the following three questions: Do you honor Mary? Are your priests without wives? Do you follow the Pope?” When the priests responded affirmatively, the people rejoiced – Catholicism was back in Japan!

            The early Church father Tertullian said, “The blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians.” The faith exists in Japan because of the heroic courage of those 26 martyrs, led by St. Paul Miki, and the courage of those who kept the faith in secret for centuries. We, too, should not be surprised or afraid when trials come in our walk with Christ, but endure them with courage based in a love for God that is stronger than death.

            And thus we conclude the Beatitudes. More than anything, Christ desires our happiness – not an easy life, but the deep fulfillment of a life of sacrifice and virtue, directed to eternal joy!

Ordinary Time 5 - The Beatitudes, Part 2 of 3

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 5

Beatitudes, Part 2 of 3

February 8, 2026

 

            Last week we read Jesus’ famous eight Beatitudes – His rules for living blessedly - and I spoke about the first two. If you missed it, you can hear it on our St. Jude’s website. Today I will speak about the next three Beatitudes – what they mean, what virtue they embody, and how they lead to our true happiness.

            Jesus goes on to say, “Blessed are the meek” – an often-misunderstood term. Meekness isn’t weakness – rather, it is strength under control. The virtue to cultivate here is that of self-control. As St. Maximilian Kolbe said, “What use are victories on the battlefield if we are defeated within our innermost selves?” It makes no sense to rule the entire world if we cannot control ourselves.

            The famous story goes that Mother Teresa approached a baker to beg for food for her homes for the poor in India. The baker, indignant upon being asked, spit upon her face. Mother Teresa took out her handkerchief, calmly wiped the spittle off her face, and replied, “That was for me. Now, how about something for my poor?” This perfect self-control so impressed the baker that he gave a generous donation to her.

            How do we grow in this self-control? The answer is simple…and simply unpopular. Daily sacrifice and fasting. Our life is a battle between our will and our flesh – which one will have mastery? The will is like a muscle, and when it gets a workout, it grows stronger so that we can more easily choose the greater good despite any difficulty. So don’t hit the snooze button…willingly give up dessert…don’t use the heated seats and be a bit uncomfortable on your drive…pray a little longer on your knees than is comfortable…hold your tongue from that unnecessary word that only serves to pad your ego. Only a self-controlled person is free – if we are beholden to our physical and emotional whims and desires, then we are ruled by them.

            Notice Jesus’ promise: the meek will inherit the earth. If we are free because we are interiorly self-controlled, then the whole world will be in our grasp, because we have our strength directed to the greatest good.

            But what is that greatest good? Jesus goes on to say that we are blessed if we hunger and thirst for righteousness. Interesting that we are blessed if we are not content – if we are discontented with the status-quo, tired of the same old life, yearning for something more. This might be easiest to see in contrast to a widespread vice: that of acedia. Acedia is mediocrity in the spiritual life – just settling for the same prayers that we’ve always done, falling into the same sins and dismissing them as “oh, that’s just who I am”, never going beyond the bare minimum.

            In the 1600s in Italy there was a teen girl named Veronica who was a pretty good person. She took care of the poor, and loved going to church – but also had the typical flaws of a strong-willed, somewhat vain teen girl. One day she was praying and she had a vision of Jesus holding out a heart that was made of solid iron. She asked what it meant, and Jesus said, “This is your heart – I long to give you a heart of flesh, on-fire for love.” She realized that she had been living a mediocre life and set about correcting her flaws and really praying with real fervor. She is now St. Veronica Giulianna. I wonder, if Jesus showed us our heart, would it be as cold as stone, as lukewarm as a bad bowl of soup, or on-fire with divine love – hungering for holiness?

            So what can we do about our lukewarmness in our faith? Some suggestions could be: go on retreat, pray in a new way, or make a pilgrimage to a holy place. Visit a cemetery and ponder the shortness of life and the length of eternity. Remember what St. John Vianney said: “If people would do for God what they do for the world, what a great number of Christians would go to Heaven.” And consider your lofty calling – you are made to be a great saint, overflowing with graces and virtues, another Christ in this world today…not a mediocre person who sullies the name of Christian with their lukewarm life.

            Jesus then goes on to say, “Blessed are the merciful.” How many feuds have escalated absurdly because people were unable to forgive? There is a small island between the US and Canada called San Juan Island. In 1859, an American farmer found a British-owned pig rooting around in his potato patch, so he shot the pig. The British owner informed the police, who threatened to arrest the farmer. But the American government got wind of it, and sent soldiers to occupy the island and claim it as American soil. The British responded by sending fully armed Navy warships to the island. Weeks of a tense standoff ensued – until finally cooler heads prevailed and the two countries backed down. People could have died…all because of a pig! If someone had just apologized and offered forgiveness, this absurdity would not have happened!

            Thus, the virtue here is mercy. Mercy differs from justice in that justice gives someone what they are owed, while mercy gives someone what we do not owe them – a greater kindness than they deserve. But isn’t this precisely how we have been treated by the Lord? We deserved wrath, and He gave us forgiveness – we deserved to die for our sin, and He took that death upon Himself. How blessed we will be if we can extend that same mercy to others!

            Next week, we will look at the final three beatitudes and how we can live them out so that our life will be truly blessed!

Ordinary Time 4 - The Beatitudes, Part 1 of 3

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 4

February 1, 2026

Beatitudes, Part 1 of 3

 

            St. Thomas Aquinas spent his days teaching and writing about the Lord – he wrote over 100,000 pages, including the masterpiece called Summa Theologica, a summary of the entire Catholic Faith. But toward the end of his life he stopped writing because one day he had a vision of Christ Crucified on the Cross, who said to him, “You have written well of me, Thomas. What will you have as your reward?”

            Time-out the story for a moment – if God asked you what reward you wanted, what would you respond? A billion dollars? Peace in your family? Health? World peace? Here’s what St. Thomas responded, “All I want is You, O Lord.” His happiness would be found in possessing God. This is the context for these beautiful Beatitudes from the beginning of Jesus’ famous “Sermon on the Mount”. Beatitude – Makarios in Greek – doesn’t mean an emotional happiness. Rather, it means a deep fulfillment due to life choices. This was a common teaching technique in Jesus’ day – Greek and Egyptian writings, as well as the Old Testament, often teach by saying, “Blessed is he who…”. We hear things in the Scriptures like, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord…blessed is the one who meditates on the law of the Lord…blessed is the one whose sin is forgiven.”

            Do we not all desire such happiness? Yet notice that these elements of blessedness are not things that just kinda happen to us by random chance, nor are they dependent upon others giving them to us – rather, they are choices we make. One might say that this kind of joy is available to all if we cultivate the virtues they embody. So over the next few weeks I want to unpack these Beatitudes to look at the virtues we can cultivate, that we too may be blessed.

            First, Jesus starts out with the most critical of the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” This corresponds exactly to the virtue of humility. Humility is knowing who we are before God. There’s a great story from the life of St. Francis Borgia. The name “Borgia” should be familiar to us – there was a recent TV series about their scandalous lives – and their very name implies corruption, political intrigue, and scandal in Renaissance Italy. And Francis Borgia indeed began living the life of a privileged prince, complete with palaces and servants and backstabbing politics. But when his relative Queen Isabella of Spain died, he was called in to verify her death. Seeing her lifeless body, surrounded by fancy robes and jewels, woke him up to the shortness of this life and the importance of eternity. He turned his thoughts to God, became a Jesuit priest and a saint, becoming poor in spirit.

            How can a man be filled with pride when he will return to dust? There is a powerful prayer that I pray when I visit a dying person that always moves me – it says, in part: “May you return to Him Who created you from the dust of the earth.” Every moment is a gift, not something we’ve been owed. God is God – we are frail creatures who must someday return this life-breath to the Lord. This realization is the beginning of humility.

            So how do we practically grow in humility? First, accept correction peacefully. Many of us know King David from the Bible as that powerful man who defeated Goliath and ruled Israel with justice. But on one occasion, he also committed adultery and had the husband of the woman killed so he could marry her. Not good! So God sent the prophet Nathan to tell David that he had committed a grave sin in the presence of God. This is a pretty daring act – to tell a king that he’s a sinner. But David does something surprising – he admits his wrongdoing and does penance for his sin. Can we accept correction with that same humility?

            We can also grow in humility by not talking about ourselves and our accomplishments. Recently I was at a gala where I got trapped in a conversation with a man who kept telling me about how great he was – his business success, the famous people he mingled with, how virtuous he was. At the end he said to me, “Well, that was an enjoyable conversation – how about we get together for lunch soon?” Uh…no, please spare me! As CS Lewis said, “Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself…it’s thinking of yourself less.”

            Also, spend time with the lowly. I love the second reading today from St. Paul – his basic message is that Christianity is for losers! Irish author James Joyce once said, “The definition of Catholicism is here comes everybody!” If you want to be with the rich and the good-looking and successful, go hang out in Silicon Valley or Hollywood. A Catholic parish is a motley collection – and that’s good! A truly humble person does not see it beneath them to spend time with anyone.

            Connected to this, a humble person is content to do the most menial tasks. Bl. Gabriel Peretti was the provincial (leader) of the entire Franciscan order when one day he walked into a church and the priest mistook him for a mere altar server, and made him serve Mass. The holy man happily served Mass, but afterward the priest realized who it was and began to profusely apologize. But the holy man said, “To serve Mass is such a great honor that even the angels are envious!” A humble person does not think it beneath his dignity to do humble tasks.

            Finally, we always grow in humility through prayer. Prayer is a humble dependence upon God. There’s no way to pray out of pride – we need Him, and we express that need in prayer.

            The second Beatitude might be more confusing: blessed are those who mourn. Why is sadness good? St. Paul comments on this in 2 Corinthians when he says, “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.” So this is not the mourning that happens when bad stuff befalls us – but rather, as St. John Chrysostom comments, “He bids us to mourn, not only for our own, but also for other men's evil.” We are sorrowful because we are not as holy as we ought to be – and thus we are “comforted” when the Holy Spirit makes us holier. We are filled with grief at the evils in the world – and we are comforted by the confidence that Christ will win in the end.

            There are many evils that we cannot change at present. I just returned from the March for Life – fifty-three years of legal abortion in this country, and no end in sight. Despite the fact that Roe vs. Wade was overturned, statistics show that abortions are actually on the rise in our country. What can we do about it? We can pray, we can witness, we can vote – but in our heart, we must grieve for the lives lost. There is an old Christian prayer, “Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours.” And this brings us closer to Christ, to mourn with Him about these sins.

            One could call this the virtue of compassion – not only suffering with other people, but also suffering with Christ, whose Sacred Heart is so hurt because of the coldness and ingratitude of His beloved children. After seeing Our Lady at Fatima, young nine-year-old Francisco Marta used to skip out on school to spend all day in the church instead. One time his sister asked him what he was doing there, and he replied, “I am thinking about God, Who is so sad because of so many sins! I want to give Him joy!” This beatitude calls us to rid ourselves of the frivolous way we live our life, and feel the pain in the Heart of God because of the sins which harm His children. What a beautiful virtue of compassion!

            My friends, who among us does not want to have a blessed life! And these virtues of humility and compassion are two of the eight pillars toward this life of the blessed. Tune in next week to unpack more of the Beatitudes to understand how their virtues lead to a life of fulfillment in God.

Ordinary Time 3 - Remnant from the Rubble

 

Ordinary Time 3

January 25, 2026

Remnant from the Rubble

 

            When the atomic bomb hit Hiroshima in 1945, the entire town was leveled, except for one building: the Catholic Church, which stood tall despite being in the epicenter of the blast – and the eight priests who were having breakfast in the rectory next door were not only unharmed, but never once suffered the effects of radiation poisoning.

            Or who can forget the iconic image of the fallen World Trade Center, where above the rubble stood an iron cross standing tall, a symbol of God’s triumph over death? Or consider the certain types of pinecone, which can only open when there’s a forest fire – after the forest has become a bed of ash, the sprouts of new life are rejoicing in the sunlight.

            Throughout human history, God has brought about great deeds amidst devastating tragedies. We see it in our scriptures today, in the course of the last century, and in our own lives. Let’s unpack those three loci of God’s saving work.

            First, in the Scriptures. Both the First Reading and Gospel speak about the land of Zebulun and Napthali “walking in darkness and gloom.” Why is that? Zebulun and Napthali were two of the twelve tribes of Israel. Their land was in the far north, bordering pagan territory – which was a dangerous place to be when the surrounding nations were hungry for conquest. In 722 BC, the Assyrians devastated the land and murdered or captured these two Israelite tribes. For two centuries they were scattered to the ends of the earth, wondering if God had forgotten them. Finally, the small remnant that remained were allowed to return home, but they had to live shoulder-to-shoulder with the pagan peoples who had moved in during the interim. So during Jesus’ day, this region of Galilee was filled with an oppressed people, still questioning God’s protection and love, every day having to pass by pagan temples and neighbors who worshipped false idols. It was a sad and sorry state – but it is precisely here that Jesus makes the hub of His ministry! Do you think God is trying to send a message – that He is raising up something new in the midst of a devastated land?

            All throughout human history, God has moved powerfully in times of greatest distress. The Fall of the Roman Empire was a tragedy, but it gave a space for Christendom to flourish (“Christendom” refers to a widespread Christian culture and nations, which we certainly saw throughout the Middle Ages down through the modern time). The Protestant Reformation rocked the Catholic Church, but it gave us an opportunity to make some much-needed reforms so that the Church became stronger and holier. We can only see it by hindsight, but we can trace the actions of God’s Providence raising up new, surprising things in the wake of a devastation.

            So, let’s apply that to our modern world. I have frequently asked some of our more senior parishioners if life is better in the 2020s then when they were growing up in the 1940s and ‘50s, and every single one has told me that life was better “back then”. I don’t want to romanticize the past, because there were many flaws in our country and culture, but it is safe to say that we are seeing the decline of Western Civilization. We no longer live in a Christian culture. We’ve lost the tight-knit communities we once had. We can’t assume that most people have faith in God, or that our laws will respect the Christian view of the human person, marriage, or other basic fundamental realities.

            So we can despair of what was lost…or we can find out what God is doing now to bring forth new life after destruction. In the waning days of the Roman Empire, a young man traveled to Rome to begin his studies – and was disgusted by the vice, intrigue, and licentiousness he encountered. But he knew the rot within the Empire was too far gone to save, so he instead fled to the mountains and gathered other men around him, where they would live a life of prayer, manual labor, and study. This man was St. Benedict, who founded the first monasteries in Western Europe. When the illiterate Barbarians sacked Rome, it was only the monks who kept books and learning and schools alive – we owe them gratitude for preserving faith and knowledge during some very dark years!

            And perhaps we are called to do that too. We won’t bring back Christendom. Barring some miracle, I don’t expect God to return to the public square, or for Christianity to make a huge rebound (although we see hints of a revival in our parish of St. Jude!). But God is raising up other things that are exciting and counter-cultural. For example, there is a movement afoot to start classical Catholic schools – schools that are serious about their Catholic identity. I teach at one in Stamford, and a new one called Chesterton Academy is opening in New Haven in the fall. We see a resurgence in interest in Eucharistic Adoration, as most parishes in our diocese have some hours of Adoration weekly (we have 12 hours every week) while at five places, including St. Theresa’s in Trumbull, there is Adoration 24/7. Just two weeks ago a man in our parish told me he’s gathering a group of other men to do a Bible Study together. Brilliant! The possibilities are endless – and God is putting these desires on hearts, to raise up movements for the Kingdom. John Paul II put it best when he said, “[There will be a] new springtime of Christian life if Christians are docile to the action of the Holy Spirit.”

            As true as this is on a macro scale in our culture, it’s equally true on a micro scale in our lives – God often does something surprising and new when our personal lives are in shambles, too. That which appears to be a disaster is often our saving grace.

            In the 1100s, Ireland was a constant battleground between tribes and clans. Two tribes were at war with one another, when, in a horrible act of vengeance, a chief captured the 10-year-old son of the other chief. This poor boy was put in prison for two years as a hostage, basically starved, until a local Catholic monk heard about the boy’s poor treatment and demanded that he be released. The chief agreed and released the boy to the monk’s care, and the boy in his gratitude began to learn about the monk’s Catholic faith. When his war-loving father came to pick him up to return home, 12-year-old Lawrence decided to stay with the peaceful monk and study for the priesthood. He was later ordained a priest, then the abbot of the monastery, and eventually the Archbishop of Dublin. We now know him as St. Lawrence O’Toole – the result of God bringing immense good out of a truly tragic situation.

            And when you look back over your own life, do you not see the same? It’s often said that God can make a test into a testimony and a mess into a message. Those things that hurt us so badly – it was then that we found strength in our faith. Having to deal with that difficult person forged us in the virtue of charity and patience. Dealing with addictions has brought us to a humble trust in God’s mercy. That loss of a job led us to find God’s will in a new way.

            My friends, this is one element of what Jesus means when He says that the Kingdom of God is at hand. God is ultimately King of the earth and King of our lives, and He is orchestrating all things for His glory. All we are called to do is trust Him, and follow Him with wholehearted faith like Peter and Andrew, James and John…for God is on the move!

Ordinary Time 2 - God's Glory Is Our Task

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 2

January 18, 2026

God’s Glory Is Our Task

 

            The famous Indian peace activist Gandhi was a big fan of Jesus. Apparently he read from the Gospels every day and really admired the Lord. But someone asked him why he never became a Christian, and he replied, “Because you Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

            Our readings today speak about Jesus’ mission to be the Light to the Nations – to introduce all nations into a right relationship with God. Once Christ ascended into Heaven, He passed that task on to His Body, the Church – not just priests and deacons, but every baptized and confirmed Catholic. It’s a tremendous thing – the eternal salvation of souls is now in our hands. And thus, we do have a mission, but how well are we doing at making God’s salvation known to the nations?

            Other created things glorify God just by being what they are. For example, a mountain tells us of God’s majesty, the complexity of a cell shows God’s magnificent precision and providence, a cute puppy might show the tenderness of God’s heart. But human beings are the only creatures who can choose whether or not to glorify God – when people look at you, do they see God’s love? His mercy? His faithfulness, His wisdom, His holiness? Or do they see something that looks very unlike God?

            St. Irenaeus once said, “The glory of God is man fully alive.” God receives the most praise when we are fully human – but what makes you fully alive? Sitting on a beach in the Bahamas? A deep conversation with a friend? All of these are elements, but to be fully human is to be like Jesus Christ. As Pope St. John Paul II said, “Christ reveals man to himself” – we only know what it means to be fully alive when we look upon the only Man to fully live – Jesus Christ. Jesus loved this world rightly – He enjoyed the company of others, He spent time with His Father in prayer, He had a clear and passionate mission in life, He knew how to love and sacrifice. This is how He was fully alive – this is how we can be fully alive, too.

            Our Catholic Faith gives us a clear blueprint to this abundant life that glorifies God – but it’s so crazy countercultural! In a couple weeks, we’ll be reading through Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, in which He calls the poor in spirit blessed; in which He says that if our hand causes us to sin cut it off; in which He says we must love our enemies.

            Just being “nice” isn’t being a light to the nations. No one will get to know God’s passionate, radical holiness just because we hold the door open for someone. No, it takes a much more countercultural discipleship to reveal God’s Heart to the world. People sit up and take notice when you forgive a painful hurt; they ask questions when you’re open to life and let God decide how many kids you have; they stare in wonder when you prioritize Sunday Mass over Sunday sports, or when you sacrifice some pleasure for the sake of Christ.

            There’s a great story of this from the life of St. Josemaria Escriva. He was an ordinary teenage boy growing up in Spain in the early 1900s, with dreams of a family and a career. But on one snowy day, he went out about the town when he was shocked to see that there were footprints in the snow, and he caught a quick glimpse of the clothing of a barefoot Carmelite priest – and he began to consider, “If that priest can walk barefoot in the snow for love of Christ, Jesus must be worth every sacrifice! How can I sacrifice my life for Him?” And Josemaria became a priest, the founder of Opus Dei, and a saint – all because one unknown Carmelite priest lived radically for Jesus.

            My friends, sometimes we think that as long as we save our souls, then we’ve done our job. But our Catholic faith is about more – it’s also about God’s Name being praised in us and through us. When people look at you, do they think, “Oh, there goes that believer in Christ – his life shows that He’s living for eternity.” Or would they be surprised to find out that you believed and say, “Really? You’re a Christian? I couldn’t tell from the way you live.” Is God glorified in you – or are you glorified in you?

            I close with a quote from a Christian writer named Brennan Manning, who said, “The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, and then walk out the door and get on with their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”

Baptism of the Lord 2026 - Matter Matters

 

Homily for Baptism of the Lord

January 11, 2026

Matter Matters

 

            In 2020, a priest from Detroit named Fr. Matthew Hood was watching the old VHS of his own baptism as an infant. He was surprised to see that the deacon who baptized him said the words, “We baptize you…” instead of “I baptize you.” One little word, but did it make a difference? He wrote to his bishop, who wrote to the Vatican, and the Vatican ruled that…yes it mattered, and because of that one erroneous word, Fr. Hood had not been validly baptized! He needed to be re-baptized, re-Confirmed, and re-ordained a priest – this, for a man who had already been acting as a priest for three years!

            Crazy, right? But the definition of a Sacrament is “an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace”. The outward sign is important! It consists in two parts: the matter (which is the “stuff” of the Sacraments) and the form (the “words” used in a Sacrament). Both are essential for a Sacrament to be valid (which means that the Sacrament actually occurred). We can’t mess around with the “matter” – I can’t baptize with Coca-cola, I can’t celebrate Mass with Doritos – the Sacraments would be invalid. And we can’t mess around with the form – if you ever go to a Confession where a priest says, “I forgive you of your sins” or “God absolves you of your sins” – charitably but firmly correct him and ask him to give you the proper Absolution, which is “I absolve you of your sins…”. Otherwise, the Confession is not valid!

            Is the Church being picayune in such definitions? No – such precision is important for two reasons. First, because the Church has no power whatsoever to change what Christ has established – rather, the Church’s role is to faithfully hand on what He taught His Apostles. This is true in the moral realm (the Church can never redefine marriage, for example) and it is true in the sacramental realm as well. As much as the media may tell the Church to “get with the times”, it will never be possible to use raisin bread for the Eucharist or to ordain women to become priests. We must remain faithful to what Christ gave us – not come up with novelties on our own.

            But secondly, we must remember that while we are bound by the Sacraments, God is not bound by the Sacraments and can give His saving grace to whomever He wishes. There is a principle called ecclesia supplet – the Church supplies. This means that in case a Sacrament is accidentally done incorrectly, the person will still receive the grace as if the Sacrament had occurred. So in the case of Fr. Hood, even though he acted like a priest for three years and heard Confessions, his Confessions were not technically valid. But he didn’t know that and the penitents didn’t know that – so the sins really were forgiven because the Church supplied the grace. Or if you went to a Mass in the 1970s where the priest used corn bread – it wasn’t the valid Eucharist, but if you did not know this, then you received the grace you would have received as if the Eucharist were valid. So you don’t need to go panic about your own baptism – we can assume that it is valid unless you have video evidence to the contrary!

            I believe the Sacraments are uniquely important in our own day and age, when much of our world is digital and online. Jesus Christ established a fundamentally incarnational faith – where we experience God’s grace through visible, tangible realities. Our hearts yearn for a God Who is close enough to touch, see, and hear! Haven’t we all experienced the exhaustion and emptiness of living as a digital nomad? Why is it that Zoom calls, even if we can see and hear the person, seem so fake and wearying? There is a desire in our human hearts to live in the real world, not just the curated, algorhithmic dopamine-driven virtual world.

            A couple years ago at our parish’s annual chili cook-off, I came upon two young teens staring at their phones. So I told them, “Guys, put it away, we’re going to play cards.” Initially they were resistant, but soon warmed to the idea and we had a rousing game. At the end, one of the boys said to me, “Wow, it’s been a while since I felt so…human.” We need the real world to make us feel human.

            Which is why Christ established an incarnational faith – one that can be sensed and touched, one in which His invisible love comes through concrete Sacraments. We can taste His goodness in the Eucharistic Host placed on our tongue; we can hear the healing words “I Absolve You”, in our darkest hours we feel the olive oil on our heads in Anointing of the Sick and it brings us great comfort. We humans are both body and soul, and things only enter our soul by means of our bodies. Hence, invisible grace enters our soul by means of bodily actions – aka, the Sacraments.

            I believe that in our world and our Church is in great need of rediscovering the wisdom and value of these incarnational Sacraments. They are a perfect antidote to the soul-emptying digital gulag in which we are all enslaved. Let us hunger for and deeply appreciate all of our beautiful Sacraments, for with them we are made fully human…and filled with divine grace.

Epiphany Homily 2026 - The Search for Truth

 

Homily for Epiphany 2026

January 4, 2026

The Search for Truth

 

            About a thousand years before Christ, a Persian pagan priest (say that five times fast) named Zoroaster was officiating at the spring festival when he saw some sort of shining image on a river bank. This heavenly visitor began to teach him a new religion: one that had only one god, who was locked in a cosmic battle between good and evil. This good god would send a savior (called the Saoshayant) who would be born of a Virgin and would win the final victory over evil.

            Zoroastrianism began to catch on in Persia, where it still flourishes today (there are about 120,000 adherents to this religion). Their priests are called Magi (also still existing today). So in Jesus’ day, these Magi were very much on the watch for their version of a savior, the Saoshayant – which is why they were so eager to find this newborn baby, for they believed it fulfilled their prophecy as well as the Jewish predictions of the coming Savior.

            But these men did not return home as Zoroastrian priests. Notice that when they encounter the Christ Child, they performed acts of worship – they knelt down and worshipped Him. Having been led out of the shadows of their former faith, they returned home as believers in Christ, and according to tradition they were martyred for their new Christian Faith. They are now venerated as saints: St. Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. Their relics are in the cathedral in Cologne, Germany.

            Their original faith of Zoroastrianism had hints of the truth – enough to set them on a search for the fullness of Truth in Jesus Christ. And this should be the natural progression of things: coming from the shadows into the bright light of truth.

            When considering Catholicism’s relationship to other religions, we must avoid two extremes. One extreme is seeing every other religion as categorically false and worthless. This would be an error. Our Catechism states that there are elements of truth and goodness in other religions, that are preparations for the Gospel. We see the elements in Zoroastrianism such as monotheism, the belief in a Savior. We see such elements in Islam – belief in one God, a respect for Abraham and Mary. We even see it in Buddhism and Eastern religions – a desire to do good and avoid evil. All of these good things in other religions are meant to point us to the fullness of Truth in the Catholic Faith.

            And thus we must also avoid the opposite error, which would be religious indifferentism, the belief that all religions are equal paths to God. This is also an error, since we believe that, as the Second Vatican Council states, “It is through Christ's Catholic Church alone, which is the universal help toward salvation, that the fullness of the means of salvation can be obtained.” We have a duty to seek the Truth in religious worship, and to adhere to it.

            Sadly I have met many people who have left the Catholic Church because they wanted a better community, or more upbeat music, or better preaching. But those are all external things – the question we should be asking is, did Jesus Christ establish a Church? Yes – He set it on the rock of St. Peter’s faith. Does this Church still teach everything Jesus taught? Yes – we have the same teachings that were handed on from the Apostles to the Church Fathers to us today. Does this Church have the fullness of the means of grace? Yes – we have the Eucharist, Confession, the Sacraments, the richest tradition of prayer and saints and art.

            Seeking the truth in religion is the most important question we will ever ask. It’s about more than your tastes and preferences – it’s about which one contains the clearest path to God. It often requires sacrifice to seek the truth. I mean, wouldn’t it have been easier for those Magi to stay home and say, “That’s a pretty long 700-mile journey, could be dangerous and exhausting, and Zoroastrianism is pretty fine and I’m happy here…might as well just stay home and enjoy my good job as a pagan priest.” Nope – they said, “There is something incomplete in my faith – I must seek the Truth, even if it costs me a great deal.”

            In the 1920s, there was a young German Jewish woman named Edith Stein who was unhappy with life. She had abandoned her Jewish faith, instead choosing the life of academia. She got a doctorate in philosophy and began to teach, under the direction of a famous philosopher named Edmund Husserl – who happened to be a devout Christian. He encouraged her to look at Christianity, which she began to investigate.

            But pretty soon a friend gave her the autobiography of another saint, St. Theresa of Avila. She began reading it – and literally read the entire thing in one night. Famously, she put the book down as the sun was rising and declared, “This is truth.” She knew that she had to answer the call of Christ – and sought baptism.

            But she feared telling her mother. Eventually, on holiday from the university, she told her Jewish mother that she was choosing Christ – and her mother walked out of the room and did not speak with her again that day. When the visit was over, Edith returned to university on the train, which passed by her parents’ house. Her mother was standing there in the picture window, waving at her – giving her as sign that their relationship could be salvaged.

            She continued teaching, but ten years later felt another restlessness – she sensed God was calling her to enter the convent and become a nun. On break, she told her mother this bit of news – and once again the mother refused to speak with her. That time, as her train passed by her house, her mother was not standing by the window – and Edith took that as a sign that she had lost her mother forever. Indeed, they would never speak again.

            Edith took the name Sr. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross and became a Carmelite nun – but this was right around the time that Hitler took power in German. Due to her Jewish heritage, she was arrested and taken to Auschwitz. Her last will and testament, written right before her arrest, said this: “I beg the Lord to take my life and my death as atonement for the unbelief of the Jewish People, and that the Lord will be received by his own [Jewish] people.” She is now St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross – one who suffered greatly in searching for the Truth found in Jesus Christ.

            I stand before you with the claim that Jesus Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and that our Catholic Faith is the True Church founded by Christ with the fullness of truth and the clearest path to salvation. But don’t take my word for it. Go on a search like those Magi did. Search the Scriptures; read the Catechism and the Church Fathers; bring it to prayer. It may take sacrifice to look for the Truth, but I can’t think of any more important search we will ever embark upon.