Lent 3 - The Samaritan Woman At the Well

 

Homily for Lent 3

March 8, 2026

Jesus and the Samaritan Woman

 

            A pastor was once preaching about humility, and he spoke about how Jesus humbly rode into Jerusalem on a donkey on Palm Sunday. He was urging people to approach God as humbly, and asked rhetorically, “Do we come into church on a donkey?” A woman in the back pew pointed to her husband and called out, “No, but I came into church with one!”

            Frequently when Jesus wants to speak of spiritual things, people can only think of earthly things. He says that He is the living bread, and people ask, “Where’s the free food?” He tells Nicodemus that we must be born again to enter Heaven, and Nicodemus is left wondering how it’s possible for a full-grown man to re-enter his mother and be born a second time. And today is a similar theme of Jesus speaking spiritually, while the Samaritan woman is thinking only of solving earthly problems. But gradually, bit by bit, she comes to the realization of who Jesus is and what He’s offering…and it is far better than unlimited water.

            First, some background. In 922 BC, the Kingdom of Israel split in two. The tribe of Judah remained in the south with one other tribe, while the other 10 stayed in the north and became the nation of Israel. But a couple centuries later, the Assyrians attacked Israel and carried them off to exile. Into the now-empty land, they settled five foreign pagan tribes, each of whom brought their own pagan gods to the land.

            When Israel was able to return in the 520s BC, they found their land occupied. But unlike the tribe of Judah, who separated themselves from their pagan neighbors, Israel began to intermarry with the pagans and corrupt the pure Jewish bloodline – these people became known as the Samaritans, after their largest city of Samaria. As a result, the Jews would not allow the Samaritans to worship in Jerusalem – instead, they had to set up a separate temple on Mount Gerazim. This is why the Jews and the Samaritans had such animosity – the Jews saw the Samaritans as dirty half-breeds who had corrupted the worship of God with paganism.

            But as part of the Father’s perfect plan, Jesus was to reconcile all people with God, even these dirty half-breeds. It says that Jesus “had to” pass through Samaria. It wasn’t a necessity, since most Jews just took an alternate route around the country of their enemies – but He “had to” in the sense that this was the Father’s plan. He rests at a well – if you know the Old Testament, you know that the patriarchs – Isaac, Jacob, Moses – met their wives at a well. Resting here is a deliberate choice, because Christ is going to try to win over her heart. Christ’s Bride is the Church, and this Samaritan woman will be a prized member.

            She comes at noon, alone – a strange occurrence, because in Jesus’ day women drew water in the cool of the morning and evening, and always in groups for safety. To come alone at noon means this woman is an outcast. Jesus breaks with convention on every level – He converses with a woman alone, a Samaritan, and asks for something that would break Jewish purity laws – to share a cup of water together.

            The woman is initially confused by the request. But Jesus tells her that He has a greater gift: living water. In Jewish parlance, “living water” simply means running water, like a brook – this is a much more sanitary option than the stagnant water of a well. So she is intrigued, and hopeful that she will no longer have to perform the task of drawing water. But, again, she misunderstands – Jesus is speaking of the Holy Spirit, which is like Living Water – the Spirit causes all virtues to grow in us like water grows plants, and cleanses us of sin like water cleanses the body. The woman responds cynically – but also ironically, as she asks, “Are you greater than Jacob, who gave us this well?” She is expecting Him to say no – when in reality, He is far, far greater than Jacob.

            So Jesus speaks about her illicit marriage situation and reveals the five husbands. This is a symbol of those five pagan nations with whom the Israelites had intermarried. Instead of remaining faithful to the true God, the Samaritans had committed spiritual adultery with pagan ones. The woman, recognizing that Jesus is a prophet, asks Him a theological question. She’s not trying to change the topic so much as she sees an opportunity to settle the great dispute that had been raging for five hundred years between the Samaritans and Jews: how should God be fittingly worshipped?

            Jesus answers that, currently, the Jews have it right: the Temple in Jerusalem is the place to worship. But He also tells her that this is coming to an end – there will be a new right worship of God: the Holy Mass. And we know that in 70 AD, a generation after the death of Christ, the Temple of Jerusalem was destroyed and never rebuilt. Because we are now, right here at this very Mass in Monroe, giving God the worship in spirit and truth. We can call the Mass “true worship” because the Mass will last until the end of time – there will never be another form of worship more pleasing to God. The Jewish sacrifices were only a shadow of the Sacrifice of the Mass, which makes present in an unbloody way the Sacrifice of Christ on Calvary. The Cross is re-presented here, which makes this is the perfect offering, the true worship, and it will last until the end of time. We sing at every Mass, “We proclaim Your Death, O Lord, and profess Your Resurrection, until You come again” – the Mass will never end until Christ returns. Literally at every single minute of the day, somewhere in the world, the Mass is being offered. What the prophet Malachi stated in the Old Testament has been fulfilled in the Mass: “For from the rising of the sun even unto its setting, my name shall be great among the Gentiles; and in every place incense shall be offered unto my name, and a pure offering.”

            The woman then talks about the Messiah, and Jesus responds with a powerful Greek phrase: “Ego eimi”. We translated it as “I am He” but it literally means “I AM” – the Divine Name. Recall when Moses met God in the burning bush, he asked God His Name, which was “Yahweh” – I AM. This means that God is the source of all existence in the universe, that He is Being Itself, and that all time is present to Him. And this very Creator God is made incarnate in Jesus Christ, sitting by a well in front of this loose woman from a half-breed tribe.

            We could go on, but I think there are two practical takeaways from this Gospel. First, it doesn’t matter what we’ve been through or what we’ve done, but God is constantly seeking to win your heart back to Him. You could be an outcast, an adulteress, a public sinner, from the “wrong race”, but Christ thirsts for your love, and is reaching out to you at this very moment. The woman came to faith and repentance, and then became a passionate evangelist as she told everyone about Jesus – no matter your past history with sin or rejection, you are also loved, called to holiness, and given a share in His mission of leading souls to Heaven.

            Second, how we worship is important. I meet many people who say, “Oh, I have a great relationship with God, but I don’t go to Mass.” We cannot have a good relationship if we ignore how He told us to praise Him! Jesus was clear about the proper way to worship God when He gave us the Eucharist and said, “Do this in remembrance of Me.” So the Mass is the highest act of worship we can engage in, and if we wish to have a right relationship with God, then the Mass is the way to give Him the praise He deserves.

            This story of Jesus meeting the Woman at the Well is a powerful story – not a physical miracle of Jesus, but an even more valuable interior miracle of an outcast woman finding faith, hope and healing in Christ.

Lent 2 - The Road to Glory Leads Through the Cross

 

Homily for Lent 2

March 1, 2026

The Road to Glory Leads Through the Cross

 

            The world loves a good Cinderella story – rags-to-riches, where a person in abject poverty and suffering ends up with a glorious ending. We have one like that in our Catholic Faith – St. Germaine Cousins.

             She was born with a deformed hand and a skin disease. Her mother died in childbirth and because of her deformities and disease, her stepmother forced her to live out back in the barn. She never received a bit of kindness from her stepmother or her other siblings, and was forced to endure the cold winters and hot summers and loneliness, with only bread and water as her sustenance. Yet she never complained, and would speak kindly to her cruel stepmother (sounds like a Catholic Cinderella, right?). She attended daily Mass and prayed the Rosary frequently, and would often give her meager bread to beggars. Because of her intense love for the Lord, miracles started happening around her – at times the swollen river would part so she could attend Mass, and when she would be off at Mass, she would plant her shepherd’s crook in the ground and no sheep ever wandered away. People began to notice her holiness and came to her for advice, even though she was only in her late teens! Finally, her stepmother relented and allowed her back in the house, but she refused, wanting to offer her sufferings as penance for sinners. She died at the age of 22.

            Okay, so where’s the “riches” part of this rags-to-riches story? Well, as a saint in Heaven, she is receiving far more glory and joy than can ever be imagined: the vision of God for eternity, no suffering, the company of the saints, life without end – does this not more than make up for what she endured on this earth?

            One of the most profound truths in the spiritual life is that the road to Heaven leads through the Cross. Always, always, always. St. John of the Cross writes, “[We must] come at last to see that it is quite impossible to reach the riches and the wisdom of God except by first entering the thicket of much suffering. The gate that gives entry to these riches is the Cross. Many seek the joys that can be gained through it, but few desire to pass through it.”

            This is a beautiful image. Imagine that one were to be standing outside of the finest mansion, filled with joy and celebration and riches and love, but the doorkeeper said, “You can come in and take possession for the rest of your life, but first you must endure one hour of suffering.” Hopefully we would say a wholehearted yes to this exchange! And yet, with an eternity with God behind the door of death, so often we are unwilling to make any sacrifices whatsoever to obtain Him!

            But why does the road to Heaven pass through the Cross? For two reasons. First, because in this fallen world, love is suffering. In fact, St. Padre Pio said, “The proof of love is to suffer for the one you love.” If Jesus were merely to prick His finger and shed a drop of His Precious Blood, that would have been enough to redeem the world – but would it be enough to show us the unfathomable depths of God’s love for us? No, for this, He needed the Cross – to show us a God Who would rather die than spend eternity without us. To willingly suffer in union with Christ is the most profound act of love we can give Him; and to willingly suffer for others puts our love into action. Without suffering, love becomes a mere sentimental notion – suffering makes love real.

            Secondly, though, suffering purifies us and strips us of all the idols we make. Have you ever had to rip off a bandage or a piece of tape that had stuck to our flesh? How painful that is! Likewise, we become attached to all sorts of things – some of which are bad things (greed, lust, pride, sin) but some of which are good in themselves but are not our greatest good (attachments to honors, pleasures, possessions, even family and friends). We become so attached that God has to “rip them off” so that He becomes our only love.

            Our Buddhist brothers and sisters believe that desire is the cause of all unhappiness – therefore, they try to eliminate all of their desires, so they might find inner peace. But Christians believe that desires are good when they are ordered properly – we can desire a good steak, but not on a Friday in Lent. We can love our family and friends, but we must love God more. But due to our fallen world and the sin we all struggle with, we tend to have disordered desires – to desire things that are not our greatest good. It is suffering, then, to re-order our desires, when we don’t get what we want (health, money, success, etc) so that we may desire God alone.

            Suffering is unpleasant – that’s why, when Peter gets a glimpse of the glory of Jesus, he wants to build tents. He wants to dwell on this mountain, safe from the cares of this world, with Jesus the King. He will find it much harder to stay on Mount Calvary, with Jesus the Crucified One. And see the parallels here: today Jesus appears with radiant garments, but in forty days He will be stripped of His garments. Today He is flanked by the two great heroes of Judaism: Moses and Elijah, but on Good Friday He will be flanked by two common criminals. There is a brilliant light coming from the cloud declaring Jesus to be the Son of the Father, but on Calvary, the sun will be darkened and even Jesus will cry out, “My God, my God, why have You abandoned Me?” The Transfiguration was a glimpse of the glory, but the glory that can only be obtained by passing through the Cross.

            So do not be afraid of suffering when it comes. It is inevitable in life. But use it well – make it an act of love by uniting it to Christ’s Cross, and let it strip you of your attachments so that you can cling to God alone. And in this way the Cross will be the path leading to the Resurrected glory.

Ash Wednesday Homily - To Be, Rather Than To Appear

 

Homily for Ash Wednesday

February 18, 2026

To Be, Rather Than To Appear

 

            State mottos are funny things. For example, the state motto of Montana is “Gold and silver” – a little blunt! Some are inspiring – New Hampshire is “Live free or die.” Some are just strange – Oregon’s state motto is “She flies with her own wings”. But one stands out for its antiquity: North Carolina’s state motto is Esse quam videri – To be, rather than to appear. That quote originates in the ancient Roman author Cicero, a hundred years before Christ.

            But isn’t this exactly what Christ challenges us today? To be a Christian, rather than to appear as one. Fasting, almsgiving, and prayer are the three great pillars of Lent – but are they merely appearances, or do they point to a deeper desire to truly love Jesus Christ? The ashes we will receive in a short moment – are they just window-dressing on a self-centered life?

            Last summer, a parishioner gave me a watermelon, and it was one of the most perfect-looking fruits I’ve ever seen. No blemishes, perfectly shaped. But as soon as I cut into it, I was offended by the most awful smell – the thing was rotten to the core. I’d rather have an ugly watermelon that tastes great! So it is with Christians – it is more important “to be” than “to appear” to be a follower of Jesus Christ.

            The dust that will be smeared on your forehead is far less important than turning from your sins. This hour out of your year is far less important than what you do for the remaining 8,760 hours. Will you spend at least 52 of those hours worshipping God at Mass on Sundays? Will you come to Confession during this Lenten season? Will you make Jesus Christ the very reason why you breathe, the very goal that you pursue?

            Once a missionary priest to a foreign land was able to convert the native chief, who was illiterate. The chief was asked by a fellow tribesman, “How will you know about Jesus if you cannot read the Bible?” The chief answered, “I do not need to read the Bible when it is lived out every day in the life of this priest.” Would the same be said about you?

            All Catholic monks and nuns live according to a “Rule of Life” – a document that outlines when to pray, how to fast, what works of charity to perform. But some older monks and nuns are so holy that they are called “The Living Rule” – they live their Rule of Life so perfectly that it’s as if the document has taken life. They didn’t appear to be holy – they were holy.

            And so, as we begin this Lenten season, the goal isn’t to give up dessert so we’re ten pounds lighter by Easter. The goal is to give up all the sins that prevent us from truly being followers of Jesus Christ to the depths of our being. Otherwise, these ashes on our forehead are nothing more than a façade covering up a sinful and empty life.

            I close with the story of one of our great martyrs, St. Ignatius of Antioch. He was a bishop from the second century who was arrested and marched hundreds of miles to Rome where he would shed his blood for his faith in Jesus Christ. Along the way, he wrote letters to the churches in each town he would be passing through, seven in total. His most famous one, written to the Romans, urged them not to try to save him – he was happy to give his life for Christ. He writes to them, “[Do not pray for my rescue, but pray rather] that I may not merely be called a Christian, but really be found to be one.”

            That is my prayer for you this Lent, too – that you may not merely be called a Christian based on the ashes on your forehead, but may truly become one through your repentance and pursuit of Jesus Christ.

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!