Easter 2026 - A Holy Madness

 

Easter Homily

April 5, 2026

A Holy Madness

 

            My uncle is one of those tin-foil hat UFO chasers from California. He fits all the stereotypes, believing that aliens could read his mind and that trees can speak to us. In fact, his Facebook bio says that he is a, quote, “Revolutionary/Shaman/Wizard/Spirit/Troublemaker.” But I must admit that I believe something even crazier than he has ever believed: that a man rose from the dead.

            Just think for a moment how crazy that sounds. If I were to tell you that I saw George Washington eating at Bill’s, you’d think I’d lost it. And yet, I’m here to claim that a man who was brutally executed is now completely alive, forever and ever. He walked again on this earth, ate and drank, His tomb is empty, His body is glorified in Heaven. And that now this Divine Man should be followed as Lord and God.

            Seems like foolishness, right? Imagine how the early disciples felt. When Mary Magdalene told the Apostles that she had seen the empty tomb, Peter did something completely undignified – he ran. This would be a very inappropriate action for a grown man to do – but he didn’t care. He needed to know the truth. When he encountered the Risen Lord, he was so convinced that he spent the remainder of his life sharing that good news with others. Imagine the response he got, as he preaches the Resurrection in the first reading – most people discounted Peter as a raving lunatic. But those with faith to hear recognized in Peter’s words the only hope that really mattered – Jesus Christ is risen, so our life and our eternity now belong to Him Who has conquered death.

            Paradoxically, the Resurrection is the most reasonable belief of all. We know that the tomb is empty (no reputable archeologist in history has ever claimed to have found the Body of Jesus), the Resurrected Christ was seen by over 500 people, and many of the eyewitnesses died as martyrs, proclaiming that Jesus is alive. So though the world thinks us crazy, it is reasonable to believe in the Resurrection. I’m willing to bet my life that He is Risen.

            The great thinker Blaise Pascal said that if you believe Jesus is Lord and you’re wrong, there is nothing to lose, but if you’re right, then you have everything to gain. Conversely, if we do not believe in Jesus and Jesus doesn’t exist, then nothing happens, but if we refuse to believe in Him and He does exist, then we lose everything. So the rational choice is to believe in Jesus Christ – we have nothing to lose and everything to gain!

            After all, what is real craziness: believing that Jesus Christ is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, or believing that money, success, or pleasure leads to happiness? What is crazier: to give your life to Christ in the hopes of an eternity with Him, or to give your life to this world which will pass away when we die? I’d rather give my life away to God than to possess this entire fallen world. St. Paul says the same thing in our Scriptures: our life is hidden with Christ in Heaven, so we must seek the things that are above.

            And boy, does that look crazy to the world. It was a cold winter’s day in Grenada, Spain in the 1500s when an itinerant preacher named Fr. John of Avila came into town. He stood on a small platform in the town square and began to tell the townspeople of the good news of Jesus Christ. Out of curiosity or boredom, a small crowd began to gather, then grow. When he got to the part about Jesus Christ having risen from the dead – and how our lives belong to Him and to eternity – a wealthy man in the crowd was so moved by this realization that he climbed the platform with the saint and began to throw his money out into the crowd. “I will no longer live for this world! God alone! God alone!” he cried out, publicly telling everyone his sins and crying for God’s mercy.

            Well, the authorities couldn’t let this crazy man continue to make a scene, so they quickly took him to the local mental asylum – but he continued to rave about how he repents of his sins and believes in God. A week passed with the man still overwhelmed with tears and bursts of laughter. So the doctors summoned the man responsible: Fr. John. He met with the formerly-wealthy man, now poor and disheveled, and they spoke for a while. Finally, Fr. John came out and said, “This man is not crazy. He just believes with his whole heart. We would do well to do the same.” They released the man, who used the remainder of his wealth to open a hospital and serve the poor in town. Both men became saints – St. John of Avila, the preacher; and St. John of God, the great servant of the poor.

            I pray that all of you may be filled with the same holy madness. Love makes us do things that the rest of the world considers crazy. Forgiving our enemies. Forgoing the sports game to worship Christ at Sunday Mass. Staying faithful to our spouse, loving our difficult parents. Hoping for a Heaven we cannot yet see. And the craziest one of all: living and dying for a Man who is risen from the dead.

            So, yes, the wisdom of Heaven may seem like foolishness to this world. The truth of the Resurrection seems like madness to scoffers. But I pray that this kind of holy madness overtakes us all. After all, it would be truly crazy to choose this passing world over eternity!

Holy Thursday 2026 - Sacrament of Humility and Charity

 

Homily for Holy Thursday 2026

April 2, 2026

Sacrament of Charity and Humility

 

            The Eucharist is often called the Sacrament of Charity, but it can also be called the Sacrament of Humility. Both of these virtues are on display on this night, in two different but complementary ways.

            First, we see both virtues in the washing of the feet. It says in the Gospel that Jesus “set aside” his garments and wrapped Himself in a towel – this is a symbol of the Incarnation: when the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity took off His Heavenly glory and instead took on human flesh, the vesture of a servant. But this humility was motivated by charity – He did all this out of love for us: a desire to be with us, not just during His thirty-three years on earth but ultimately His desire to be with us for eternity.

            But the Holy Eucharist is even more humility, even deeper charity. In giving Himself to us, He has made Himself vulnerable. God puts Himself at our mercy. The priest holds Him in his hands; we have the power to do whatever we want to God! What humility! He even accepts insults and blasphemies, being received by wicked souls in mortal sin, because His love keeps Him here in the Eucharist.

            Throughout centuries, there have been many instances of the Eucharist being mocked or trampled upon, and yet Our Lord endures these insults with patient humility. For example, back in the 11^th Century in Trani, Italy, there was an unbelieving woman whose friends kept urging her to go to church. One day, out of curiosity, she went to church with them, and came forward to receive Holy Communion, but instead of swallowing, she took the Host from her mouth and hid it in a handkerchief. When she arrived home, she wanted to prove to herself that it was just bread, so she placed the Eucharistic Host in a pan of hot oil on her stove, intending to fry it. Instantly, the Host started to bleed…and bleed copiously, so that the blood flowed over the pan and onto the floor. The woman was shocked and summoned the priest, who then took the Host back to the church where it has been kept until this day. Our Lord’s humility in allowing Himself to be treated in such a manner!

            But this humility, too, is motivated by charity. Charity isn’t just about doing good deeds; it’s a gift-of-self to the other. To give oneself as food means that this Divine Person burns with a desire to love us, to be constantly with us! What a radical, even crazy, act of love – to say, “I want to be consumed by you!” As St. Therese of Lisieux said, “Do you realize that Jesus is there in the tabernacle expressly for you – for you alone? He burns with the desire to come into your heart!” It is love that causes Him to humble Himself.

            And so, we see that these two virtues on display this night are also the calling of every Christian. St. Augustine once wrote, “If you should ask me what are the ways of God, I would tell you that the first is humility, the second is humility, and the third is humility.” One of the more beautiful friendships in history is that of St. Basil the Great and St. Gregory Nazianzen, two of the early Church fathers who were also roommates at school. Gregory recounts that despite the fact that they were both excellent students who tried to outdo each other with good grades, their greatest rivalry was that of humility – they constantly tried to praise each other and take the lowest place themselves, to see who could serve the other one more humbly. Gregory writes, “Our rivalry consisted, not in seeking the first place for oneself but in yielding it to the other, for we each looked on the other’s success as his own.” What a beautiful and holy rivalry, to excel in humility!

            But humility is not for its own sake but for the sake of charity. St. John Paul II said, “Man can only find himself in a sincere gift of himself.” In the late 1800s, there was a talented young woman in Ireland named Catherine McAuley, who found herself single, alone, and out of a job. A compassionate wealthy couple hired her to manage their estate, as a personal assistant – and they grew to love her as a daughter. When they passed away, the left a huge fortune to Catherine. She knew she wanted to use it for good, so she started to give it away…but she felt like something was lacking. She soon realized that God didn’t want her to give away the money – He wanted her to give away her life to Him. She gathered some women around her and founded the Sisters of Mercy, known as the “walking nuns” because they walked through the city taking care of the poor, destitute, sick, and orphans. It wasn’t enough for her to just do good deeds – charity demanded that she give of herself, in imitation of Christ, Who didn’t just do nice things for us – He gave us His very self.

            These two virtues are inseparable – it’s very easy to boast about our works of charity, so we need humility to realize that all the good we do is simply because of God’s goodness. And we need charity to motivate our humility – we are able to take the lowest place and assume the role of a servant precisely because we wish to make ourselves a gift to others, out of love.

            The washing of feet, the giving of the Eucharist. Both witness to the cornerstone virtues of the Christian life – humility and charity, which make us like Christ.

Palm Sunday 2026 - What Did I Do To Deserve This?

 

Homily for Palm Sunday 2026

March 29, 2026

What Did I Do To Deserve This?

 

            Have you ever said to God, “What did I do to deserve this?” Maybe we lose a job, or get a bad diagnosis, or lose someone close to us, and we are filled with indignation – I’m a good person! What did I do to deserve this?

            Yet there has been only one perfect person in history – Jesus Christ. And for His entire life He had laid aside His glory to suffer the humiliation of human weaknesses – growing hungry and thirsty, suffering the pain of rejection, experiencing all the trials of human life. And this week He comes to the greatest humiliation of all.

            First, He enters Jerusalem, not on a chariot, but on a donkey. He is betrayed by His friend Judas. He washes the feet of His disciples. All of His friends desert Him. He is whipped, beaten, scourged, crowned with thorns, nailed to a tree, and abandoned to die. He, and He alone, has the right to protest, “What did I do to deserve this?”

            But perhaps we would be right to say, “What did we do that He deserved this?” It was precisely because we are sinners that He had to hang upon the Cross. He the Innocent One; we the guilty. We had sinned; He took the punishment. We had spat upon God; with His last breath, He forgives.

            So perhaps it is best that we do say, “What did I do to deserve this?” Not in anger or indignation, but in wonder and awe and gratitude. What did I ever do to deserve this forgiveness? This mercy? This depths of God’s love?

            Nothing. I could never deserve the death of God on the Cross. And that’s the whole point. It’s not about deserving. It’s a free gift of love.

Lent 5 - Jesus Wept

 

Homily for Lent 5

March 22, 2026

Jesus Wept

 

            John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the entire Bible: “Jesus wept”. I have had a devotion to that verse since college, when our intramural basketball team was called “John 11:35” because Jesus wept at how bad we were (I believe we lost every game). But apart from that, contained within those two words are a glimpse into the Heart of God. Why did Jesus weep? Three reasons.

            First, He wept because He was truly human. Christian hope doesn’t always take away the pain of life. Sometimes we think that if we had more faith, then it wouldn’t hurt us so much when we lose someone we love. But Jesus Himself wept – showing us that our faith doesn’t take away grief, but gives us hope in the midst of it.

            After the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, perhaps one of the holiest families to have ever lived was that of St. Emelia. Her husband is a canonized saint, along with her mother-in-law, and five of her ten children! But tragically, one of her sons died at the young age of 27. Emelia was overwhelmed with grief and struggled to find peace in it all. She stopped eating and became a recluse in her own house. But her daughter, St. Macrina, sat her down and firmly said to her, “You must stop grieving like those who have no hope! We will see him again!” Although that did not take away the pain, it gave her the hope to carry on. So the fact that Jesus wept for the death of His friend teaches us that it’s okay to grieve, to hurt, to feel pain, and that we shouldn’t expect our faith to eliminate such things – but, rather, that we grieve and hurt with a God Who grieves with us.

            Second, He wept because of the lack of faith of those around Him. It says twice that Jesus was “perturbed in spirit”, but the literal translation of the Greek is that He “snorted in spirit” – a deep pain, not based merely on human grief, but because of unbelief – the Jews still said, “Couldn’t He have done something?” Yes, of course He could…and He will, if they believe. It was much easier for Jesus to raise a dead man (who doesn’t resist) than to implant faith in a soul (who resists mightily).

            We, too, should grieve at those who go through life without faith. Many years ago I was celebrating Mass at Trinity High School in Stamford. We had daily Mass there before school, although none of the students ever came, and only a couple faculty members. But the chapel had a glass rear wall, so I could see what was happening in the lobby as I celebrated Mass. I’ll never forget one day that it was Spirit Week, so the school provided donuts for the students on their way into school. That day, I held aloft the Eucharist, Jesus Christ, the Bread of Life, and could look beyond it to see the two hundred students who had gathered in the lobby to eat donuts…and was struck to the heart that the entire student body chose donuts over Jesus Christ. Four people were there worshipping Jesus; hundreds were enjoying donuts outside. I had never felt so acutely the lack of faith in that school until that moment – and it was viscerally painful moment.

            So let us console Jesus by grieving the lack of faith in our culture. Yes, we’ve seen a small revival here at St. Jude’s, but a March Gallup poll still shows that 24% of Americans claim no religion (35% under age 30), and 53% of all Americans say that religion is not very important in their lives. These are not statistics – they are souls, souls who have an eternal destiny, souls who are thirsting for the love that Jesus alone can give. As we grieve with Jesus over this lack of faith, we can console Him by bringing souls to Jesus – living for Him, inviting others to encounter Him at Mass and in prayer, and speaking of Him to everyone we meet.

            Finally, Jesus weeps because death is a consequence of sin – and He is grieved about that reality. Death was not part of God’s original plan – it entered as a painful remedy to the disorder that humanity caused due to original sin. I say “remedy” because it would be intolerable to live forever in this broken world. I can’t tell you how many elderly people I visit who ask me, “Father, why hasn’t the Lord taken me yet? I’m ready to go!” Death is our escape-hatch out of this battlefield called life, the release to a world where sin cannot touch us.

            Human beings are a unity of body and soul, so what happens to the soul is reflected in the body. Perhaps you’ve seen a person’s body-language show that they were unhappy, or maybe you’ve seen a peace and joy reflected in someone’s eyes. Likewise, the result of sin (which is spiritual death) is physical death – even St. Paul says this in Romans: “The wages of sin is death”. Hence, Jesus is grieved that death exists at all, since it is the natural consequence of sin.

            So then, the raising of Lazarus has profound spiritual implications. If Jesus can take away death which is the consequence of sin, we realize that He can take away sin itself – which is far worse than death. Last spring I went on retreat in New Hampshire and visited an Orthodox monastery for Vespers (Evening Prayer). It was a long service, and about a third of it was the monks chanting, “He has defeated death by death! He has defeated death by death!” This is the heart of the Christian message – death and the sin that leads to it will be defeated, once and for all, by Christ, the Savior of Mankind.

            In John’s Gospel, this is Jesus’ final miracle before His passion. In a sense, it is a foreshadowing of the Resurrection. Jesus has the power to conquer death once and for all, which He will do in two short weeks by walking out of His own tomb. And He promises that all who live and die united to Him through grace will be assured of their own Resurrection.

            So while Jesus may weep here on earth – and while we weep with Him, because of sin, death, and faithlessness - there will come a day when all tears are wiped away. There will be no more death or suffering, no more mourning or tears, when He Who has already conquered death returns again to bring us a life that will never end.

Forty Years I Endured That Generation

 

Forty Years I Endured That Generation

Fr. Joseph Gill

            I teach a Confirmation class of about 65 kids – eighth graders from the public school in a middle-class town in Connecticut. These kids are not from particularly devout families, and many of them were not churchgoers until it was mandated by our Confirmation program. But a few weeks ago as the lessons were drawing to a close, I asked if any of the teens would be interested in continuing to study their Faith after Confirmation, since the Sacrament isn’t graduation but the next step in a lifelong walk with Christ. I was unprepared for the response.

            Two-thirds of my class enthusiastically signed up. They said that they were hoping we could keep holding classes throughout their entire high school career! What a powerful outpouring of the Spirit – even before the Sacrament had been received!

            Much has been written about the renaissance of grace being experienced by youth and young adults in the Church. I have seen it in my own parish: our average age is trending down, led by parents with young kids and Gen-Z young adults, especially young men. Pixels and ink have been spilled about the cause of this revival: a search for truth in a relativistic culture; a hunger and an emptiness after being fed the pablum of our modern world; profound loneliness, especially among young men, and a desire to live for a cause bigger than oneself.

            All of these are true, and I’ve seen these existential issues manifest in my work with youth and young adults. But I’d like to add a theological reason for this revival of faith among the young: this outpouring of grace among the next generation is profoundly parallel to what God did – and promised – in the Old Testament.

            Picture this scene: the Israelites, after having been enslaved for approximately 450 years in Egypt, were finally liberated through the most remarkable signs and wonders that the world had ever seen. Ten vicious plagues upon their enemies, culminating in the death of the first-born…a giant ocean splitting in two, allowing them to walk through on dry ground…bread miraculously appearing from Heaven and water gushing from a cleft rock…seeing the tremendous mystery of God appearing in thunder and trumpet blast on Mount Sinai.

            But even with all of these miracles, did the Israelites believe? They were utterly faithless. Crafting a molten idol out of gold, appointing a leader to return to Egypt, grumbling against the Lord in the wilderness. Time and again, God forgave their faithlessness…until it became too much to bear.

            The decisive moment occurred at the edge of the Promised Land. It was only about a three-month journey from Egypt to the banks of the Jordan, and God told the Israelites that they could easily take the land – He would fight on behalf of His people. But the people refused. Their faithlessness had reached fever pitch, and despite the mind-blowing marvels they had seen, they refused to believe that God was with them, and made plans to return to Egypt.

            So in retribution, God swore that the entire populous would wander in the desert until the faithless generation died out. For forty years they wandered, until the faithless adults had perished, and the younger generation of children had grown up. Led by Joshua, they were ready to inherit the land and the promises.

            Can we not see a parallel to our situation in the Church? The time immediately before the Council could be considered a “golden age” of Catholicism. We had a future saint who won an Emmy with one of the most popular TV shows of the decade (Bl. Fulton Sheen’s “Life Is Worth Living”), seminaries were full, popular culture portrayed Catholicism in a favorable light (think of Bing Crosby’s “Bells of St. Mary’s”), and we had even elected a Catholic president – unthinkable merely a few decades prior. It was as if God had granted us exceptional and extraordinary graces to win the world for Christ.

            And this was precisely the intent, presumably, of the Second Vatican Council. Open wide the doors of Catholicism, that all might come in! This was our “Promised Land” moment – if we had kept faith with God and remained faithful to Scripture and Tradition, we would have experienced that new springtime in faith that John Paul II could only dream about.

            But just as a few faithless leaders corrupted all of Israel to turn away from the Lord, a few corrupt clergy turned the Church away from the authentic faith passed down from the Apostles. Not everywhere, mind you – but in many boots-on-the-ground parishes, we saw faithlessness in the vapid liturgies, heterodox preaching and teaching, the sexual abuse scandal simmering beneath the surface, wholesale rejection of moral theology, and a faith that had been gutted of its grandeur, truth, and challenge.

            So what did the Lord do? He withdrew His blessing until this generation could pass away. Those who came of age in the 1960s had forty years of influence in the Church – not all bad, but certainly it was a “desert” experience for many Catholics. Now, as that generation has ceded to a younger and more faithful one, God is once again leading us to the cusp of the Promised Land where a new outpouring of the Spirit may once again lead to full pews and vibrant saints.

            During the forty years in the desert, we had some great lights sustaining us: Pope John Paul II, Mother Angelica. The flourishing of the Franciscan University experiment. Cardinal Arinze, Mother Teresa. The rise of the Catholic homeschooling movement; the “underground” traditional liturgies we used to attend. These beautiful works of God kept the Barque of Peter afloat until God could do a new thing with a new generation. But these lights were few and far between in an otherwise-arid land. Now, He is ready to unleash a new torrent of grace on a new generation, since the ones who led us astray have puttered off into the sunset.

            Pastor Rick Warren once wrote, “Do not ask God to bless what you’re doing, ask God that you may do what He’s blessing.” And we see what He is blessing these days: traditional Masses, young people vibrant with the faith, religious orders who live their vows radically, schools that are faithful to the Magisterium. We must seize this opportunity by focusing our efforts where God is already blessing, and put our Church’s resources where the Holy Spirit is moving!

            This isn’t to say that we can write off the Boomer, Gen X, or Millennial generation. They are souls, too, who need the grace of God. But we shouldn’t allow the Catholic revival to be stymied by them, if their perspectives are still dwelling in the past. A few days ago a brother priest lamented that he couldn’t get people to come to his church – it was empty and mostly grey-haired, in a neighborhood that trended younger. I asked him about his Masses – was the preaching solid? How was the music? He admitted that his music director still played the same songs (unworthy of the name “hymns”) from the ‘70s and ‘80s, the Marty Haughen-St. Louis Jesuits fare, thinking they were “contemporary”. (No, fifty years ago is not contemporary). Ah, my brother priest, I see where your problem lies.

            God promised in the Psalms, “Forty years I endured that generation; I said, ‘They are a people who go astray, and they do not know My ways’ – so I promised in My anger, ‘They shall not enter into My rest.’”. He is now giving an outpouring of grace because the next generation is standing on the edge of the Promised Land. Will the Church respond? Not by using its resources to prop up dying schools which have only the mere semblance of Catholicism, empty parishes where the authentic Gospel has ceased to resonate, leaders who do more harm than good. No, we must see what God is blessing – souls, parishes, leaders, and schools that are faithful to all Christ has taught us - and make this the authentic expression of Catholicism. Then we will be the faithful generation whom He has made fit to inherit His gifts!

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.