Ordinary Time 19 - Desolation

 

Ordinary Time 19

August 9, 2026

Faith In Desolation

 

            In the last century, a woman once wrote to her spiritual advisor, “In my soul I feel just that terrible pain of loss—of God not wanting me—of God not being God—of God not really existing.” Who was this woman? An unbeliever? A skeptic? No – it was Mother Teresa, perhaps the holiest woman of the twentieth century. When these words to her spiritual director were published after her death, many people came forward and said, “See! She was a hypocrite! She didn’t even believe in God!” But on the contrary, it showed the depths of her holiness, because she continued to love God with the darkest, coldest, most raw faith.

            There are times in our spiritual lives where we feel close to God. Maybe it is the birth of a child, admiring a beautiful work of art, the peace we feel in Adoration, the beauty of nature. Spiritual writers call this consolation – the feeling of God’s presence. I hope all of you have experienced consolation in your spiritual lives – they are favors from the goodness of God.

            But most of us do not live our lives in constant consolation – rather, spiritual writers such as St. Ignatius of Loyola speak about desolation as well – a feeling of being distant from God, empty, bored, lacking motivation to pray. Have you ever felt that as well? I certainly have. And it’s not a bad thing at all – but we have to understand how to keep our faith in desolation.

            Elijah certainly faced this in our first reading. We have to understand the context of this small passage. Elijah was the only prophet faithful to the Lord in all of Israel when most of the nation had begun to worship the false god of Ba’al. The evil King threatened to kill Elijah for being faithful, so Elijah fled to Mount Sinai – the very place of the Covenant which Israel had been so unfaithful to. But Elijah was in dire straits – right before this scene, Elijah actually prays for death, when he says, “Lord, I’m alone, I’m being hunted down, and no one is converting at my preaching. Please take my life.” And God tells him to go up Mount Sinai (also known as Mount Horeb, as in today’s reading) and wait for the Lord to show up. And He shows up…in a tiny whispering sound, and basically tells Elijah to get back to work!

             It may have been disappointing for Elijah, who wanted some consolation, something to make himself feel better. Maybe God could have showed up in the fire, the earthquake, to show the prophet He was with him. But God didn’t do that. He showed up in silence, didn’t console him, and told him to be faithful to his task.

            And that’s often how God works – we turn to Him for comfort, and feel only emptiness. We want relief from our difficult task of caring for our kids or our parents, but it seems like the burdens keep piling up. We find it a struggle to pray, as if we’re just going through the motions.

            Is He absent in times of desolation? Not at all. He allows it so that we grow in holiness, in perseverance, in humility. God wants us to seek Him, and not just seek good feelings and comfort. Faith is not feelings – even if you don’t feel close to God, by choosing to remain faithful to Him purifies and strengthens our faith. It becomes something we choose. Likewise, when we don’t feel like we want to pray, to do it anyway makes our love costly…and real. A true friend of Christ is friends with Him when He gives consolation, but is no less faithful when He chooses to hide Himself.

            No saint is ever made without desolation. Listen to the words of St. Faustina: “A darkness began to invade my soul, growing thicker and thicker... I found no consolation in prayer ... Often during the entire Mass, I did nothing but struggle with [distractions].” A lack of faith? Nope – an opportunity to purify and strengthen her love for Christ, for now she is loving Him without receiving anything in return.

            In times of desolation we must do as Peter did – keep his eyes fixed on Jesus Christ. There was a very priest from Naples who was a contemporary with Padre Pio named Servant of God Fr. Dolindo Ruotolo who wrote a famous novena (nine days of prayer) called the Surrender Novena. Daily, he would repeat the prayer, “O Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything!” It sums up the perfect attitude in times of desolation: complete trust and surrender. And Fr. Dolindo had to live out that trust – he wrote several books that his superiors criticized unjustly, and for decades they forbade him from writing and preaching. He was misunderstood, crippled by arthritis and a stroke. It would have been natural for him to ask God for a sense of His presence and love. But he continually surrendered everything to God, even a natural desire for God’s consolation. This complete surrender made his good friend St. Padre Pio say, “The whole of paradise is in his soul.”

            So when we are tempted to say, in the midst of the storm, “God, are You with us or not?” – this is the time to persevere. That may mean walking in blind trust. Our faith is not the same as feelings. God hides His consolation so that we seek Him with greater fervor, whether we feel close to Him or not. So keep your eyes fixed on Christ, choose to stay faithful to your prayer life and striving for virtue even when our motivation is lost. Because the darker your spiritual life seems here, the brighter will be the vision of God for eternity.

Ordinary Time 18 - More Than Conquerors

 

Ordinary Time 18

August 2, 2026

More Than Conquerors

 

            No matter how bad your life gets, just remember – you’re not Blessed Margaret of Castello. Born blind, lame, hunchback, and with dwarfism, her high-society parents were ashamed to show her in public, so they kept her locked in a room in their castle, attended by a kindly maid. When she was twenty years old, they took her to a shrine in a distant city to pray for a cure, but when the cure didn’t happen, the parents abandoned the girl there – but thankfully the townspeople took her in and began to care for her. For her part, she spent her days in prayer and good works – visiting prisoners, taking care of the dying, teaching children their catechism.

            She died at the young age of 33, and the whole town came to her funeral. They begged the priest to have her buried inside the church itself, because they believed her to be a saint. But the priest refused, until a sick girl came up and touched Margaret’s coffin during the funeral and was instantly cured. So she was buried in the church, and she has the gift of incorruptibility – her body has not decayed, even though she died over seven hundred years ago.

            So, as bad as life may be, just remember – you’re not Blessed Margaret of Castello, who was disabled, ended up poor and abandoned by her own family, died young.

            But was it such a tragedy? Wasn’t God glorified by making this poor disabled child into a saint? Did He not do miracles through her, and lead many other souls to God simply by her humility and prayerfulness? Is she not rejoicing with Him forever in Heaven? What man views as a tragedy, God sees as a heroic triumph.

            St. Paul offers us one of the most powerful words in Scripture, that I wish to see engraved upon all of your hearts: Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Trial or distress, hunger or danger? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly – not because we’re strong, but because of Him Who loved us.

            I suppose it matters what we expect “conquering” to look like. There has been a theme in American Christianity often called “the Prosperity Gospel” which means that God wants us to have the good things of earth – health, wealth, success – and that we just have to have enough faith to claim those good things.

            I don’t recall Jesus ever making anyone rich, or promising anyone that all our dreams will come true. So that can’t be what Paul means when he says that we conquer overwhelmingly. Rather, Jesus often blesses His friends with crosses, sicknesses, deprivation. But from an eternal perspective, we can laugh at the misfortunes that befall us, and use it all for our profit.

            I love how St. John Chrysostom puts it: “What are we to fear? Death? 'Life to me means Christ, and death is gain.' Exile? 'The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord.' Confiscation of goods? We brought nothing into this world, and we shall surely take nothing from it. I have only contempt for the world's threats, I find its blessings laughable. I have no fear of poverty, no desire for wealth. I am not afraid of death nor do I long to live, except for your good.” And he knew what it was to be weak – he was exiled twice by the Empress for calling out corruption in the court, suffered poor health, and lost many friends over it.

            But can’t Christ redeem it all? Of course – and this is what makes us conquerors. For example, is our health poor? What a gift – to participate in the Cross, to offer it all up and use it as a precious gift to save souls. Christ conquers even our poor health by turning it into a spiritual benefit.

            Do we have financial troubles? Good! God is using this to detach our soul from these passing earthly realities, so we trust in Him alone. Have we had trauma in our life? God has brought us through so we have a powerful witness and testimony, and so we could develop compassion for others.

            We are not just “survivors” of our circumstances, but rather victors over this life because we have already inherited a better kingdom. Our journey is just to go home to claim that Kingdom. And Paul says that nothing can take away that Kingdom – nothing, of course, except sin, which is our decision not to claim the kingdom we’ve been promised. But no other circumstance – can take away such a gift.

            One day two fellow Christians greeted each other on the street. One said, “How are you doing?” The other one responded, “Not bad, under the circumstances.” To which the other one rebuked, “And what is a Christian doing under the circumstances?”

            Engrave that Bible verse on your heart: Nothing will separate us from the love of Christ, because in all things we conquer overwhelmingly because of Him Who loved us.

Ordinary Time 17 - Risky Business

 

Ordinary Time 17

July 26, 2027

Risky Business

 

            Back in 2010, computer programmer Laszlo Hanyecz used a new currency to pay for two pizzas – 10,000 Bitcoin, a new cryptocurrency that was slowly catching on. Although those pizzas were delicious, if he had kept those Bitcoin instead of spending them on pizza, they’d be worth $1.1 Billion today!

            The key to good investing is to know when to spend and when to save, and what types of things we should invest in. Anyone remember the Beanie Baby craze of the late 1990s, when people bought those trendy little stuffed animals in the hopes that they would make millions in resale? They’re all sitting at the backs of closets right now, gathering dust, worth only pennies.

            There is a similar risk in Jesus’ investment strategy outlined in today’s Gospel. What if the man sold everything he had to buy the pearl, but it turned out to be a fake? What if the man sold everything to buy the field, but it turns out that the treasure buried within was counterfeit? Investors will tell you never to put all your eggs in one basket, but that diversification is the key to financial success. And unfortunately a lot of Christians take that advice to heart, when it comes to their pursuit of the Kingdom of God.

            In these parables, the Kingdom of God means two things – really, two sides of the same coin. It means that we allow Christ to be king of every aspect of our life – our thoughts, our words, or internet browsing, our private thoughts, our goals and dreams, our relationships, the jokes we laugh at, the media we consume. We allow Christ to be King of every aspect of our life. But while we imperfectly acknowledge Christ as King here, the idea of the Kingdom also points to Heaven, where Christ will be perfectly the King over our lives and our eternity.

            But many Christians want to play it safe. Yes, they want to acknowledge Christ as King and pursue Heaven, but they also think, “Well, Heaven isn’t a sure thing. I’ve never seen it; I’ve never been there. So I will try to pursue happiness here, and make Christ only a part of my life, and not the center.”

            I do admit that it is hard to live for a Heaven that we cannot see. It is risky – what if it’s not true? What if, after death, there is nothing? Yet I believe that there are two reasons why we can believe in Heaven – which should make us want to live for Heaven.

            First, because our hearts desire it. CS Lewis once said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” Have you ever experienced what I call “Christmas Afternoon Syndrome”? When we were younger, for twenty-five days we were all excited to get that new thing – the iPad, the bike, the Beanie Baby. And then Christmas morning comes, and we get it – yes! But then Christmas afternoon comes, and we feel – “Ugh, I thought that would have made me happier.”

            No matter how much happiness we experience on this earth, it’s temporary, while our hearts yearn for permanent. I remember reading an interview with the baseball great Cal Ripken Jr., who is a Hall-of-Famer and has a World Series ring. The reporter was asking him, “How does it feel to be retired?” He replied, “I hate it. Every year since I was five years old, I had a next season to look forward to. Now there are no more next seasons. I don’t know what to do with my life.” If our happiness is only based on the things of this world, we will feel this “what now?” moment when the pleasure wears off, the friends go home, and we’re left with ourselves.

            But we also believe in Heaven because Jesus revealed it to us. It says in Scripture that “no eye can see, no ear can hear, nor has the mind of man ever understood” what God has prepared for those who love Him. I’ve never been to Heaven, but I know the Man Who came down from Heaven, and when He says “follow Me”, I know that He is leading me back to where He came from – to that place where we belong.

            The asking price to invest in everlasting life is nothing short of everything. If we hope to live in the Kingdom where God is all-in-all, we train ourselves by living for Him here and now. We can’t hedge our bets and say, “Well, I’ve given God an hour a week. That’s enough.” A few dollars weren’t enough to purchase the pearl or the treasure in the field – it took every bit of a man’s fortune, but the payoff was so much greater. An hour a week isn’t enough to learn how to live in the Kingdom – only our entire lives will do.

            So here is my challenge. What aspect of your life have you not surrendered to Christ’s Kingship? Do we recreate for His glory? Do we use our phones in a manner that pleases Him? Are our friendships, our work, our marriage lived for Him? Today, let’s make the commitment to give that aspect of our life to His Kingship, that we may find ourselves living for Him now so we can live with Him for eternity.

            Back in the early 500s in Persia, a Christian nobleman named James Intercisius served as a military officer for the non-Christian Zoroastrian king of Persia. The king was quite tolerant with the Christians and allowed them to build churches and bury their dead, which was forbidden in Zoroastrianism. But soon the Christians became bold against the king and started tearing down the pagan temples, sometimes even celebrating Masses on the formerly-pagan altars. This turned the King against the Christians, and he began a severe persecution of them.

            His military leader James, to save his skin, sided with the king and abandoned his faith, often carrying out the King’s commands to capture and torture Christians. But when the King died and another was named, James’ family begged him to return to the faith of his fathers and believe in Christ. This intervention woke James up – how could he prefer his position and his riches to the everlasting joys of Christ in Heaven? He returned to his faith – just in time to be arrested by the new king for his Christian faith. He ended up being tortured, while his family watched – but that was too much for his family to bear, and they begged him now to abandon his faith to save his life. This time, James held firm, preferring to die for Christ than to live with all the riches of the kingdom. He is now St. James Intercisius, who lived for a Kingdom he could not see.

            Investors may say that we shouldn’t take risks with our money, but Christ says that Heaven is worth the risk. Do we really believe that living forever with Christ is greater than all the passing pleasures this world can offer us?

Ordinary Time 16 - Weeding the Soul

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 16

July 19, 2026

Weeding the Soul

 

            If you have a garden, weeding is a necessary but unpleasant task. If you have a soul, weeding out our vices is another necessary but difficult task. And there are a good number of similarities between weeding your garden and weeding your soul.

            First, what are the weeds? It can be understood on several levels: first, Jesus is making the point that the Church will be full of both saints and sinners until the end of time. In this understanding, it’s Jesus Who does the weeding. As St. Augustine said, “The church is not a hotel for saints, but a hospital for sinners” – which is good, because we are all sinners, so we are welcome here – not to remain sinners, but to be healed to become saints!

            But there is another interpretation – these weeds are also our vices. All of us have both virtues and vices in our soul. Virtues are those good character traits that make us like Christ, and vices are those habitual sins which make us quite unlike him. In this case, we cooperate with Christ in rooting out these vices!

            Our Catholic tradition gives us seven main vices, often called the Seven Deadly Sins. They are: Pride, Wrath (which is unjustified and uncontrollable anger), Greed, Envy, Sloth (which is laziness, particularly laziness in the spiritual life), Gluttony, and Lust. All of our other sinful habits fall under these categories. These are the weeds which choke out the good fruit of virtue in our soul. So how do we root them out? The same way we weed a garden.

            First, we focus on the big ones first, but without neglecting the little ones which can grow into big ones. We have a weed called mugwort which grows in every nice patch of flowers around here, but also gets to be six feet tall! It’s my crusade to rid this campus of this noxious weed. Likewise with the soul, examine your heart to see which is the most prevalent of your vices. Some people have a temper; others are tempted to lust; others struggle with pride. Last month, a young teen came to me in great distress and exclaimed, “Father, today was the worst day of my life!” I asked him why and he said, “Because I got braces!” Yeah, you and every other teenager in history – it was a struggle with the sin of vanity! Let us focus on the biggest one that we see in our life – as Thomas a Kempis said in the famous book, Imitation of Christ, “If you eliminate one vice every year, in short order you will be perfect!”

            But it’s far easier to root out a weed when it is small, when the roots are shallow. So it is with us – we must make sure not to overlook our small sins, lest they take root and become much harder to overcome. It is truly dangerous in the spiritual life to say, “Oh, it’s not a big deal that I gossiped once…that I indulged an impure thought…that I took something small from the store.” Every weed was once a seed…and every addiction, bad habit, or vice was once a seemingly-small and insignificant deed. Cut it off as soon as you see it cropping up in your life!

            Weeds can be frustrating, though. We have a weed called bittersweet on our campus and it’s utterly tenacious. I will cut the vine right down the ground – and it will put up four new shoots for every one that I cut. I have to be diligent and cut it continuously before it dies. Likewise, we must be persistent in overcoming vices. It’s not enough to come to Confession just once; we must come frequently. It’s not enough to overcome temptation once; we must fight it until we die. A young seminarian once asked a Bishop, “When will I be free of temptations of the flesh?” The wise bishop responded, “About five minutes after you’re dead!” All the saints know that they were still capable of sin – one time a person said to St. John Vianney, “You’re so good at hearing Confessions!” And the holy priest replied, “If I am a good Confessor, it is because I am first a great sinner.”

            One thing I’ve noticed when I’ve weeded is that the hole in the dirt left by the weed is actually perfect for more weeds to grow, unless we fill it with something good. As the old saying goes, “Nature abhors a vacuum” – and so does the soul. St. Paul tells us that “we reap what we sow” – if we fill our life with good things, prayer, sacramentals, uplifting thoughts, good deeds, we will have a much easier time to become saints. I love how St. Padre Pio would always, I mean always, carry around a Rosary with him, even sleeping with it. He would call it “his weapon” – the best thing to fight against the Evil One and his own vices. One day a man came to him and boasted, “Padre Pio, I prayed four Rosaries today!” The holy priest responded, “That’s wonderful! I have prayed 32!” His life was so filled with a love for Our Lady and Our Lord that there was no space for vices to take root.

            Finally, weeding is easier when we enlist help! My dad used to pay us a dollar if we filled up a bucket with weeds – it went quickly when all five kids were helping! Likewise, we can quickly eliminate the bad habits and sins in the garden of our soul if we enlist the help of the saints, Our Lady, and Jesus Himself. This isn’t something we just grit our teeth and try hard, but rather, we simply allow Jesus to do the work Himself. It’s not by accident that Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene after the Resurrection as a gardener – it is He Who can take out the weeds of our vices and replace them with the fruits of holiness!

            I challenge you, today, to consider what vices you need to work on – and to commit yourself to using the tools Christ has given us to root them out of your life. No matter who you are, we all have vices we need to root out – even the saints. I think, for example, of St. Fortunatus. He worked for the kings and queens of what is now modern-day France back in the 500s, but his job was somewhat unique – he was the official court flatterer. He wrote poems and songs to praise the nobles, using his tongue to butter up and flatter the king. But after a while, he realized that, although it paid the bills, it’s not what his gifts of music and song was meant to be for – it was only his pride and greed that made him such a fawning sycophant. He left the court and became a bishop, and started writing poems and hymns about the Lord – many of which are still sung in the Church today. In order to become a saint, he had to overcome his vice of pride and greed – and, in giving that up, found the treasure of Heaven!

            All of us have the weeds of vices in our soul. But with the Lord’s help, and diligent effort, we can make genuine progress in the garden of holiness, that we may bear the fruit of virtue for the Lord!

Ordinary Time 15 - The Fruits of Virtue

 

Ordinary Time 15

July 12, 2026

The Cardinal and Theological Fruits

 

            Jesus gives this beautiful parable about the sower who is sowing grains of wheat. But obviously in such a parable, everything is a symbol of something else, as Jesus Himself explains it: the sower are the Apostles, the seed is the Word of God, the four locations of sowing seed are the four different types of souls who receive the Word of God…but there is one element of the parable that Jesus does not explain – what is the fruit that a good person bears thirty or sixty or a hundredfold?

            The fruit is virtue. Virtues are the good moral habits that make us like Christ (or, as the Catechism puts it, “The habitual disposition to do good”). It’s not just an individual action – anybody can be generous once. Rather, a virtue is so ingrained in us that it becomes part of our character, and it becomes even easy to do good, even when it takes sacrifice. This takes both prayer and practice. God can infuse virtue in is when we pray for it, but usually He gives us opportunities to practice virtue when we are challenged in patience, courage, purity, etc.

            But what kind of virtues ought we strive for? Tradition gives us seven main virtues – three that deal with God (the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity) and four that deal with our relationships in this world (the cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude). Let’s look briefly at each one.

            First, at our Baptism, each one of us has received faith, hope, and charity. Faith allows us to believe that God exists, to trust Him, and to believe everything He has revealed in Scripture and Tradition. Hope gives us firm assurance that He will be faithful to His promises, especially the promise of everlasting life. Charity means that we love God above all things and that we love others for the sake of God.

            But the cardinal virtues are a little more confusing, so let’s break these down. First, temperance. This virtue teaches us to love God’s gifts rightly – to enjoy them in their proper place. I am reminded of the story of St. Charles Borromeo, the sixteenth-century Italian bishop, who had a great fondness for shooting pool. One day he was playing, when a friend asked him, “What would you do if you knew you were going to die in an hour? Would you run to the chapel, or find a priest for Confession?” He replied, “I would continue playing pool. I began this game with the intention of glorifying God, so why should I stop, even if I enjoy it?”

            There was a heresy in the early middle ages called Albigensianism which believed that all pleasure was evil – that to be a saint, we have to deny ourselves every kind of pleasure. Nope – not at all. Jesus’ first miracle was to make wine at a feast – clearly, God created good things, and we ought to enjoy them! But there is also a mirror-image error called Hedonism which believes that pleasure is the highest good. Also an error. The midpoint is the virtue of temperance – we enjoy God’s gifts rightly, in the way He intended, in balance. So we ought to feast on Thanksgiving and fast during Lent. We ought to enjoy alcohol in moderation – after all, St. Thomas Aquinas once said, “Drink to the point of hilarity, but no further” – in other words, enjoy a drink which can loosen us up and make us laugh, but not so much that we lose our reason. We ought to enjoy rest and recreation, but must not shirk our duties out of laziness. We ought to enjoy sexual pleasure, but only within marriage and open to life. We can all acknowledge that when we misuse God’s gifts, we are harmed – overeating leads to a stomachache, overindulgence in alcohol leads to a hangover, or sexual relations outside of marriage leads to unplanned pregnancy, broken hearts, and addictions. Hence, temperance is necessary for us to experience freedom!

            The next virtue is justice, which means that we give everyone what we owe them. We owe our parents respect and care (and if you’re under 18, you owe them obedience), we owe our country our loyalty, we owe God worship, we owe our neighbor the basic necessities of life. A lot of things we think we’re doing because we’re kind, but it’s actually just plain justice.

            For example, in years past I’ve spoken about the need to dress well for Mass, as we recognize we’re not going to the beach but the very presence of Almighty God. Inevitably someone says, “Oh but Father, we’re just lucky that they’re coming to Mass,” as if we’re doing a favor to God. My friend, our attendance at Mass is actually an act of justice – it is what we owe our Creator as His creatures. God is not “lucky” that we’re here – rather, we owe Him worship, and in His benevolence He is kind to give us so many graces and blessings in the Eucharist and in the Scripture readings. Or we can be that way to our fellow people, too. How many of us have held the door open for others and then had a kind of smug, “Yeah, I’m a good person” feeling? Eh, we’re only doing what we ought to do, since we owe it to our neighbors to treat them with respect. Jesus has a pithy quote in one of the Gospels for this attitude, when He says, “These servants ought to say, ‘We are unprofitable servants, we have only done what was required of us.’”

            Of course, we also ought to exceed justice by practicing mercy. Mercy is giving people what they are not due. Back in 2021, a Rhode Island woman named Lisa Hull awoke to phone ringing to give her the news that no mother wanted to hear: her son had been killed in a tragic automobile accident. Devastated, she was tempted to anger at the other driver, but as a woman of deep faith, brought it to prayer. The Lord opened her heart to realize that the other driver must’ve been suffering from extreme guilt and shame – and she alone had the power to release him from that by publicly forgiving him. But could she do that? She went back and forth, but finally decided to call him and tell him that she forgave him – it was truly an accident, he wasn’t drunk or anything – and this call brought so much mercy into his life. He attended the funeral and burial, and he found peace because of the mercy shown from the mother. So, while justice is critical, we are called to go above it through practicing mercy.

            The third cardinal virtue is fortitude – the courage to do what’s right despite difficulty. Aquinas distinguishes between two types of good things we desire: what he calls concupiscible goods and irascible goods. Big words, I know – but simple concepts. Concupiscible goods are things which are good and easy. So, at the end of a long day, we desire sleep – that is good for us, and it’s easy to do – just lay down on a comfortable bed. But some good things take effort – working out, for example, or having a prayer life, or standing up for a kid who’s bullied in school. These “irascible goods” are those which take fortitude – the strength to pursue the good despite difficulty. These are good things, but they are difficult.

            One of the most devout Catholic athletes is Hall of Fame catcher Mike Piazza. But his road to stardom was one that required great fortitude. He was drafted in the 62^nd round, and only because his father was friends with the Dodgers’ coach. No one expected him to make the majors. But he knew that God had given him the talent – so he needed the fortitude to persevere, work hard – and not just for his own ego, but to glorify God and to give him a platform to speak about Christ to the public. In fact, when he was elected to the Hall of Fame in 2016, he said in his speech, “My Catholic faith [is] the greatest gift, which has had a profound impact on my career and has given me patience, compassion and hope. Pope Benedict the XVI said, ‘One who has hope, lives differently.’” It wasn’t so he could be rich and famous, but so that Christ’s Name could be praised in this professional athlete, that Piazza had to tap into that virtue of fortitude in order to overcome the odds and make the majors. And look at his witness to Christ now!

            Finally, the last of the cardinal virtues is prudence, which Aquinas calls the “charioteer of the virtues” because it drives the rest of them. Prudence is knowing what virtue to exercise in each given situation. For example, let’s say you want to make a small sacrifice for God by giving up dessert for a week. But a friend invites you to his birthday and offers you some cake. Is it more virtuous to take the cake, or keep the fast? Prudence helps you decide. I need to rely on prudence all the time – for example, I often have kids at my school tell me, “Father, can you talk to Johnny, he’s picked up vaping and we’re concerned about him.” I have to discern whether or not to talk to him, when to do it, and what words to say. That’s the virtue of prudence – discovering when and how to live out the other virtues.

            This beautiful parable of the sower and the seed is incomplete without considering what this fruit is that a healthy Christian can expect – the fruit is a life overflowing with virtues. Aristotle said that “virtue is excellence in being human.” One might say that it is the excellence of the Christian life, as well – replete with the human virtues of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude, as well as the divine virtues of faith, hope, and charity.

Ordinary Time 12 - Don't Fear the Haters

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 12

June 21, 2026

Don’t Worry About the Haters

 

            I don’t care how old you are or what season of life you’re in, peer pressure can be a real struggle. Maybe it’s just bad memories from our middle school days, but we’re all hardwired to follow the herd, go along, fit in. We are social creatures, and no one wants to be ostracized.

            But what do we do when the peer pressure is harmful? When it goes against truth? When it goes against love?

            St. Thomas More was the chancellor of England under King Henry VIII during the 1500s – the second-in-command in the entire empire, and the King’s good friend. The King wanted to get divorced and remarried, but knew this was impossible in the Catholic Faith. So in anger, the King declared himself to be the head of the Church of England, starting the Anglican Church (in America they’re known as Episcopalians, like St. Peter’s Church on the Green). He forced every nobleman and clergyman in his realm to swear an oath acknowledging the King, not the Pope, as the leader of the Church, and most had no problem signing. But Sir Thomas More refused, knowing he could never abandon the Church that Christ founded.

            In the fantastic play “Man for All Seasons” about More’s life, we see the Duke of Norfolk trying to argue with Thomas More about this issue. The Duke says, “Oh confound all this. I'm not a scholar, I don't know whether the marriage was lawful or not, but Thomas, look at these names! Why can't you do as I did and [sign this oath], for fellowship!”

            And Thomas responds, "And when we die, and you are sent to heaven for doing your conscience, and I am sent to hell for not doing mine, will you come with me, for fellowship?"

            Throughout history, we’ve had lots of saints who stood up to the status quo. I think of St. Oscar Romero, the heroic bishop of El Salvador, who preached boldly against the government’s oppression of the poor and human rights abuses – and ended up assassinated for his boldness. I think of St. Maria of Paris, who hid Jews in her tiny apartment during the Nazi regime and lost her life for such charity. We’ve had literally millions of heroic saints stand up against the zeitgeist (the “spirit of the age”) to live boldly for Christ, no matter what the personal cost or how many people are against them.

            And we’d like to think we’d do the same, right? But do we really? I’d just like to mention one opportunity we have today to stand up for truth and authentic love against the mistaken notions of the world.

            June is, of course, “Pride Month”. We see it everywhere, including on the rainbow flag flying over Monroe’s Town Hall. While we ought to be respectful and kind to all people, including our brothers and sisters who struggle with same-sex attraction, the Pride movement is about more than just respect – it’s about approval of a lifestyle that is gravely immoral. Our Lord has taught, in both the Old and the New Testaments, and through His Church, that the only proper use of sexuality is between a man and a woman in a sacramental marriage and open to life. Thus, those who identify as LGBT are encouraged to live lives of chastity, prayer, and friendship. In fact, there is a wonderful Catholic outreach to those of same-sex attraction called Courage – the international director happens to be the pastor of St. Theresa’s Church in Trumbull, Fr. Brian Gannon. This outreach gives support to those who want to live pure and holy lives while struggling with the cross of same-sex attraction.

            But this whole idea of chastity is opposed to the Pride movement, which is an ideology of accepting an objectively disordered view of marriage and sexual relations. This is why no good Catholic can fly the Pride flag or otherwise support the Pride movement. I know in many companies and at schools, people are encouraged and even pressured to support the Pride movement – otherwise they become labeled as a bigot or a hater.

            But it is not bigotry to accept what God has revealed about the nature of marriage. It is not hatred to desire that someone avoid grave mortal sin. In fact, nothing could be more loving than to help our brothers and sisters become saints, even if they carry the very challenging cross of same-sex attraction.

            So – are we bold enough to stand up for truth and love on this issue? Are we willing to lose friends, have family members shun us, or suffer consequences at our job? In today’s Scripture readings, Christ is bluntly clear that to follow Him means that we will be hated. He was rejected; so will we be. And this issue of celebrating Pride may be one of the clearest ways in which Christ’s words are ringing true in today’s society.

            But do not be afraid. You and God equal a majority. People often say, “Oh, I want to be on the right side of history.” But truthfully, as a Christian, we should prefer to be on the right side of eternity – because this LGBT ideology, like the thousands of false ideologies before it, will end up on the trash heap of history. The Word of the Lord alone will endure forever.

            So don’t be afraid to stand alone if you stand with Christ on His Word.

Ordinary Time 11 - Chosen: Vocation and Mission

 

Homily for Ordinary Time 11

June 14, 2026

Chosen: Vocation and Mission

 

            When we were all growing up, one of the most tense moments of school was picking teams on the playground. I don’t care what sport it was – kickball, basketball, whatever – I was usually picked last – maybe you have a similar story!

            We all want to be chosen, included, welcomed onto the team for our valuable contributions. Young people have a syndrome they call FOMO – “Fear of missing out” – when they’re not invited to be a part of something exciting. And this certainly would have been the case with these Twelve Apostles.

            The process of following a rabbi was quite different in first-century Judaism. Every young boy would receive schooling until he was thirteen, but then only the best and brightest would go on to train with a rabbi. The rabbi wouldn’t seek out the boy; it was the other way around. An intellectually sharp and devout boy would ask a rabbi, “May I follow you?” The rabbi, then, would examine the boy to see if he is worthy of investing the time to train him. If he liked what he saw, the rabbi would respond, “Come, follow me.”

            Jesus does things backwards – He seeks out His disciples. He chooses those who are clearly not the best and the brightest – these guys were in their twenties or older, clearly washed-up day laborers. Why does He seek them? Not because they are worthy – but because He has a specific mission for them, and He wants to make clear that it is His power in them, not their own efforts that are doing these miracles and preaching this saving message.

            These Apostles were chosen – and so are you. You, too, have an irreplaceable role to play in this grand epic of what God is doing in history to bring about His Kingdom and save souls. And you can know what this mission is in two ways: your vocation, and your charisms.

            First, your vocation. We know that we are supposed to love God and love our neighbor, but that’s kinda vague – who are the ones we are called to love? The poor in Africa? The homeless in Bridgeport? Maybe – but our vocation gives us a clear direction to love. If you are called to marriage, then your primary responsibility is to love your spouse and children to Heaven. Those called to the priesthood are called to love their parish to become saints. Those called to the single life in the world are called to love their families, their neighbors, and to find a ministry wherein they can love others through authentic self-gift.

            Those of you who are young – how do we know our vocation? There are three steps to discernment. First, look at your holy desires – what desires do you have that you could foresee leading to holiness? A desire to become rich and famous is not a holy desire – a desire to serve the poor is a holy desire. God often puts our vocation on our hearts through our holy desires. Last summer at Camp Veritas, one of our young parishioners had a powerful encounter where he actually saw the face of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist – a true miracle, just for him. It changed his life and afterward we were talking and he sighed, “Well, I guess I have to be a priest now.” I said, “Do you want to be a priest?” “No, not really.” “Then it’s probably not your vocation – and that’s fine! The Church needs holy married men, as well!”

            Second, look at the doors God is opening. I was working with a young man in his 20s who was passionate about the Faith. I asked him if he had considered the priesthood, and he said no, he was going to marry Sarah. I said, “That’s wonderful! I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” He replied, “Oh, I don’t. Sarah broke up with me a month ago and told me she would never date me again. But I know it’s God’s will that we marry.” Uh, sorry buddy. It’s not God’s will. Pay attention to the doors He opens, and we can see His will.

            Finally, do we have peace when we think about our future vocation? Peace is usually a sign that we are on the path God has set out for us.

            Now, discernment about our vocation is only for those who have not yet made a commitment. Once we have made vows for marriage, priesthood, or religious life, that part of discernment is done – we now have a direction for our love. But our discernment isn’t finished yet – we still must discern our charisms – the unique gifts of the Holy Spirit given so we can live out His mission here on earth.

            St. Paul sets out a list of charisms in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12. Some seem mundane, such as the charism of leadership or administration or generosity. Some seem more extraordinary: charism of healing, prophesy, miracles. A charism is not just an ordinary talent – it is a passion and gift that serious disciples have for the building up of the Kingdom. It’s not just something we train for, but something that goes to the depths of who we are. It’s not for us and our enjoyment, but for God to work through us for others.

            A friend of mine is a tremendous singer who uses her gifts for the glory of God. One day, a Franciscan brother prayed over her (it was Br. Damien, who you may have seen if you came to our Heart-to-Heart Adoration this year). He has the charism of prophesy, whereby God speaks through him, and he said to her, “Your voice will be used to bring many people to Confession.” Kind of an interesting charism, right? Well, the next time she was leading songs during Adoration, she was amazed – the Confession lines stretched all the way around the church! And it happens to her every time she sings during Adoration. A true charism indeed!

            I know a woman with the charism of hospitality. She used to host gatherings for priests and Protestant ministers at her homes, and over dinner and coffee, we forged friendships and organized ecumenical events that brought many Christians together with a shared passion for the Lord. It may seem mundane, but she was never happier than when she saw people connecting with fellow Christians over pasta and tiramisu.

            Some have the charism of teaching, or writing, or working with the poor. Some have the charism of intercessory prayer – they love to pray for others, and feel a real passion for doing so. Some have the charism of evangelization – they get in conversations with their Uber driver and strangers in airports about Jesus. Some have the charism of working with youth – one of the most effective youth ministers in our diocese is a grandmother in New Canaan who runs an absolutely vibrant youth ministry at St. Aloysius.

            If you are a serious disciple, you have a charism. You have to discern what it is and where to use it, but a disciple must use it for Christ to live and work in them. I would encourage you to read more about charisms from Catholic websites or a fantastic book called “Fruitful Discipleship”. Discern what your charism is, try it out, and see how God will work through you.

            Both your vocation – which is your mission territory – and your charisms – which are your tools to work that territory and bear fruit – are gifts from God. The reason why God chose these ordinary Apostles is so that the glory will go to Him and not to them. Throughout history, He has chosen saints from the most common folk and allowed them to do tremendous works.

            For example, St. John Vianney was not the smartest priest ever. He was so behind in his schoolwork that when he was in his twenties, he was sent back to class with twelve-year-olds to learn basic Latin. Even when he became a priest, his fellow priests thought he was too uneducated to be a pastor, so they circulated a petition to have him removed. When Vianney heard about this petition, he asked to see it – and he signed his own name to it! But because he was so humble, God could use him.

            He had founded an orphanage for poor girls, but one day finances were tough and they ran out of flour. The woman in charge ran to Fr. Vianney, who told her, “You cannot make many loaves of bread? Then just make one.” The woman ran home and poured out the meager flour from the bag, and when she had mixed it with water and yeast, it began to rise…and rise…and rise so much that it became a lump of dough so large that they had to make it into several smaller loaves, which fed the entire house. When she came back to thank the priest, he said humbly, “I do not work miracles! I am only a poor ignorant man who once tended sheep. I just turned to the saints and they helped you.” He tried to deflect the praise even when he did the miracle!

            My friends, God called these leftover-men to become the cornerstone of His Church. God has likewise chosen you for a mission: one that unfolds through your vocation, and through the specific charisms God has given you. Our weakness is not an obstacle to His working in and through us, if we are willing instruments in His hands!