True Hospitality

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 20, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Gn 18:1-10a / Ps 15 / Col 1:24-28 / Lk 10:38-42
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today’s readings invite us to reflect on hospitality, not just to one another, but to God Himself.  They challenge us to ask, “How do I welcome God into my life?  Do I allow myself to sit at His feet like Mary, or do I allow myself to become anxious and distracted like Martha?”  Through Abraham, Paul, and also with Martha and Mary, we learn that true hospitality involves both action and contemplation, service and presence.

Abraham, in our first reading, sees three men approaching in the heat of the day.  These visitors are no ordinary guests.  They are a manifestation of the Lord Himself.

Abraham runs to welcome them, prepares a lavish meal, and tends to them with humility and joy.  This is one of the most beautiful images of sacred hospitality in the Old Testament.  And what is the result of this hospitality?  A promise from God that Sarah will bear a son within the year.  Abraham shows us that when we make space for God, miracles can happen.

The Church fathers saw this scene as a foreshadowing of the Trinity and the Eucharist.  God visits us, feeds us, and blesses us when we welcome Him with open hearts.

Saint Paul, in our second reading, speaks of his suffering as a participation in Christ’s Passion for the sake of the Church.  He emphasizes the mystery that has been revealed: “Christ in you, the hope for glory.”  His mission is to present everyone perfect in Christ, to proclaim Him, and to help others grow in maturity of faith.

Here Paul models spiritual hospitality, opening his heart to God’s mission and welcoming others into the life of Christ through his teaching and sacrifice.  This ties beautifully with the gospel.  The deeper purpose of any Christian service is not just doing good but helping others encounter Christ.

In our gospel reading, Jesus enters the home of Martha and Mary.  Martha welcomes Him but becomes anxious and overwhelmed with the work of serving.  Meanwhile, Mary sits at the feet of Jesus, listening.  When Martha complains, Jesus gently corrects her.  “Martha, Martha, you’re anxious and worried about many things.  There is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.”

It is a beautiful passage about Mary and Martha and their hospitality, but it is also a very misunderstood passage.  It can be quite confusing.  It may be helpful to keep in mind that Jesus is very good friends with both Mary and Martha.  This passage does not condemn Martha’s service.  After all, she’s the one who welcomed Jesus.  But Jesus draws attention to the disposition of the heart.  Mary has chosen to be fully present to Christ.  She recognizes that being with Him is more important than doing for Him.

As Saint Francis of Assisi once said, “We must not be wise and prudent according to the flesh, but instead we must be simple, humble, and pure.”  Mary’s humble presence is a model of simplicity and purity.

All three readings emphasize welcoming the Divine Presence: true acts of hospitality as with Abraham and Martha, spiritual service and suffering as with Paul, and attentive listening and contemplation as with Mary.  Together, they challenge us to examine how to balance action and contemplation, work and worship, service and stillness.

The Church reminds us today that prayer and action are both necessary.  Prayer is both a gift of praise and a determined response on our part.  It always presupposes effort.  Martha’s work and Mary’s stillness both have value.  The Church does not elevate one at the expense of the other, but calls us to a unity of life, where action flows from prayer, and prayer is expressed in action.

Sometimes we ask ourselves, “Should we be like Martha, or should we imitate Mary?”  As our readings tell us today, we are not called to choose between being Martha or Mary, but to integrate both aspects into our lives.  We can be both.  Be like Martha in service—generous, active, and caring; and be like Mary in spirit— contemplative, present, and attentive to the Lord.

A Christian life is one of prayerful action and active prayer.  When our service is rooted in prayer, it becomes fruitful and peaceful, rather than anxious or burdensome.  In our modern world, we are often more like Martha—rushed, distracted, and anxious.  Even our service in the Church can become burdensome if not grounded in Christ.  As followers of Christ, we are called to take time daily to sit at Jesus’ feet, through scripture, silent prayer, or Eucharistic Adoration.

We are also called to be truly present to others.  In a digital-hearted world, presence is the most radical form of hospitality.  As Paul reminds us in the second reading, our mission is to proclaim Christ, to help others to mature in faith, and to live in such a way that Christ is seen in us.  We are called to be hosts to Christ, welcoming Him into our hearts, homes, and communities.  We are also called to be Christ to others, offering His Presence through our listening, compassion, and love.

There is much to do, but only one thing is necessary:  to be united with Christ.  Let us serve like Martha, but only after we have sat like Mary.  Action without contemplation could be fruitless and quite misguided, a waste of effort.  And contemplation without action could be just self-indulgence.  Both are needed in their own order, with first priority given to sitting at Christ’s feet, listening to Him, being open to Him, and learning from Him.

Let us welcome God into our lives like Abraham, so that we, too, may receive His blessing.  Let us suffer with Paul for the Church, teach Christ with our lives, and build communities rooted not just in activity, but in love and contemplation.  Let us remember the gentle wisdom of Jesus: “Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.”

May we do the same, so that, in all things, Christ may be made known, loved, and served.

To Whom Can I Be a Neighbor Today?

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 13, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Dt 30:10-14 / Ps 69 / Col 1:15-20 / Lk 10:25-37
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today’s readings invite us into a deeper understanding of what it means to live the faith we profess, not only through words or pious intentions, but through concrete acts of love and mercy. The scriptures challenge us to look inward and outward, to see the law not as distant and unattainable, but as something already written on our hearts, calling us to reach out to others, especially those most in need.

Moses, in our first reading, tells the people of Israel that God’s commandments are not too mysterious or remote. The law is not in heaven nor is it beyond the sea. No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths and in your hearts. You have only to carry it out. This is a profound affirmation: God’s will is accessible. We do not need to search far and wide to discover how we are to live. The law of love has already been revealed to us. It is within us, inviting us to respond. This anticipates the new covenant in Christ, who fulfills the law and calls us to love God and neighbor with our whole being.

In our second reading, St. Paul proclaims the cosmic and divine majesty of Christ. He is the image of the invisible God. All things were created through Him and for Him; and through Him, God was pleased to reconcile all things to Himself.

Why does Paul emphasize Christ’s supremacy here? Because only in Christ can we truly understand the meaning of love, mercy, and reconciliation. Jesus is not just a teacher of morality. He is the source and goal of all creation. He reconciles what is broken, unites what is scattered, and restores peace. This reading sets the foundation for the gospel message: The One who calls us to love our neighbor is not a distant deity, but the Lord of the universe, who Himself became our neighbor in Christ.

Our gospel reading tells us the famous parable. A scholar of the law asks Jesus a profound question: What must I do to inherit eternal life? Jesus answers with the twofold commandment: Love God and love your neighbor.  But the scholar, seeking to justify himself, asks: Who is my neighbor? Jesus responds with the story that turns expectations upside down.

It is not the priest or the Levite who shows mercy, but the Samaritan, a social and religious outsider. This story forces us to confront uncomfortable truths. Love of neighbor is not limited to those like us or those we deem worthy.  St. Augustine wrote, “What does love look like? It has the hands to help others, the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. That is what love looks like.” The Samaritan didn’t ask whether the man deserved help. He simply responded to suffering with compassion. Jesus’ final instruction is clear: “Go and do likewise.”

All three readings point toward one essential truth. Love is not distant, abstract, or theoretical.  It is near. It is visible in the person of Christ. And it is demanded of us in daily life. Our first reading says the law is near to our hearts. St. Paul reminds us that Christ is the fullness of God’s love. And the gospel shows us what love looks like when it is lived. It crosses boundaries, takes risk, and restores life.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that the works of mercy are charitable actions by which we come to the aid of our neighbor in his spiritual and bodily necessities. (CCC 2447) The Good Samaritan embodies the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. The Church teaches that love of neighbor is inseparable from love of God. In fact, it is the measure of our love for God. As Pope Benedict XVI once said, “A Eucharist which does not pass over into the concrete practice of love is intrinsically fragmented.”

Nowadays, where polarization, prejudice, and indifference often dominate headlines, the parable of the Good Samaritan is as urgent as ever. Who are the wounded along our roads today? We see homeless people ignored by society; the refugees fleeing war and persecution; the neighbor struggling with addiction or mental illness; the unborn child, the elderly, the lonely, and the abandoned. Even those who we might consider enemies or outsiders.

We are not called to ask, “Who is my neighbor?” as a way to limit our responsibility. Instead, we must ask, “To whom can I be a neighbor today?” Our mission as Christians is to make visible the mercy of God through our actions. We are called to be attentive to those who suffer physically, emotionally, or spiritually.  To be courageous in crossing boundaries of race, religion, politics, or prejudice to serve others.  To be generous with our time, compassion, and resources. And to be imitators of Christ, Who is the ultimate Good Samaritan. He stooped down to heal our wounds and gave His life to restore us.

Brothers and sisters, the commandment is not far away. Christ is not distant. The path to eternal life is not hidden. The law is in your heart. Christ in in your midst. And your neighbor is at your doorstep. Let us then go and do likewise, loving with hands that serve, with eyes that see suffering, and with hearts that beat with the mercy of Christ.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Sent on Mission

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 6, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Is 66:10-14c / Ps 66 / Gal 6:14-18 / Lk 10:1-12; 17-20
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon

You may have heard it said that “The Church does not so much have a mission, as the Church ‘is’ mission.” Jesus said it this way, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” (John 20:21) The Father sent Jesus on mission to save us. Likewise, Jesus sends us on mission to save others. In Luke’s gospel today, He sent seventy-two disciples on mission, and He told them how to go about it. Our challenge, adults and youth, is to open our hearts and minds to the mission.

Luke wrote that “the Lord appointed seventy-two” disciples to go on mission. (Lk 10:1) Just as the twelve apostles represent the regathering of the twelve tribes of Israel, the seventy-two disciples anticipate the mission to the Gentiles, for that was the number of nations descended from Noah, which spread across the earth (Gn 10). It also alludes to the seventy elders Moses appointed to be prophets in Numbers 11.

Pope Francis took this call to proclaim the Gospel to all nations and made it personal. He said we need to reach out to those “on the peripheries.”  Cardinal Joseph Tobin of the Diocese of Newark expanded upon Pope Francis’s challenge. He wrote, “Getting outside ourselves and going to the periphery can mean any effort to reach out to others with compassion and understanding. It does not mean that we abandon our beliefs, principles, or way of life. But it does mean that we open ourselves to those who are different from us and, in so doing, share with them the good news that all are loved by God and redeemed in Christ.”

Jesus showed us the way when He went to the people on the peripheries, and it perplexed the Pharisees. The evangelist Matthew wrote that upon seeing Jesus with the people on the periphery, they asked His disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” [Jesus] heard this and said, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ I did not come to call the righteous but sinners.” (Mt 9:10–13)

Each of us, children and adults, are being called to ask the Holy Spirit to show us people who may be outside our usual circle of friends and acquaintances, and that we may not feel comfortable around, but that need to know God loves them and that He shows that love most powerfully in the worship/liturgy and sacraments of the Catholic Church, the only church He founded.

Next, Jesus sent the seventy-two out in pairs. We are stronger together. Marriage is a great example. The love of husband and wife draws from the fount of the inexhaustible love of Jesus and overflows in acts of charity, beginning at home and then the community. If you are single, pair up with a believing friend, especially a parishioner. A friend in Christ can boost your courage to share your faith. Whether with a spouse or with a friend, evangelizing in pairs is important, for Jesus warned us that we will be like “lambs among wolves.” (Lk 10:3).

Those who may behave like wolves are not the only part of mission work that makes us uncomfortable. Uncertainty does, too, and an essential element of mission that helps us overcome it is trusting in God’s providence, His care for us. (1 Pt 5:7) Jesus told the seventy-two, “Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals…” (Lk 10:4).  When we say yes to the Lord, He provides us everything we need. I experienced this firsthand when I flew to New Orleans on mission to bring my brother, Kevin, back into the Church.

He was in home hospice, dying from cancer. Uncertainty and fear filled me. I had no training in caring for a dying person. And Kevin was separated from the Church because he could not reconcile his same-sex attraction with the Church’s moral teachings. And, by the way, this occurred before I was a deacon, so don’t think I had lots of theological and pastoral training and the sacrament of Holy Orders to help me. What I did have, though, I brought to bear. I asked people in our parish to pray that Kevin would come back to the faith before he died, and off I went, praying the rosary often.

After settling in, I walked to Kevin’s parish for 7 AM daily Mass and afterwards told the priest, Fr. Bob, my brother needed Holy Anointing, but that I was not sure he would allow it. Fr. Bob told me he would come if Kevin agreed to it. The big moment came. I sat by Kevin’s hospice bed in his living room and said I had something very important to ask him. I told him his priest wanted to come and give him the sacrament of anointing of the sick and asked him if he would allow it. I braced myself for an angry refusal. Kevin’s response was a simple and peaceful, “Ok.”  Later that day, I overheard him on the phone with a friend excitedly and happily telling them that Fr. Bob came and anointed him.

This story illustrates an incredibly important truth! The Holy Spirit goes before us on mission. We do not convert anyone. Our part is necessary, but the Holy Spirit works in their hearts before we arrive. We show them compassion and love that speaks to their mind. The Holy Spirit, who is love, speaks to their soul. This is why Kevin, who had no wife and no children and was dying, found happiness with Jesus, who came to him powerfully in the sacraments of Holy Orders (Fr. Bob) and Holy Anointing.

Further along in the gospel, Jesus also emphasizes peace, commanding the seventy-two to say, “Peace to this house!” (Lk 10:5) Note that Luke put an exclamation point after Jesus’ command. The point is to be at peace and to remain at peace while speaking with and listening to the person you felt the Holy Spirit nudge you to go to. Of course, you may not meet that person in a house. It could happen on a plane trip or in a restaurant or at work or school or at a game or concert. In all cases, a smile and sincere heart and reflective listening will bring Christ’s peace to the person.

What if that person rejects your words or cuts you off and or rolls their eyes and walks away? Jesus covers that too. He said that if you are speaking to a peaceful person, your peace will rest on them, but if not, it will return to you. (Lk 10:6) That is a win-win, Jesus-style! If your message is rejected, thank Jesus for the peace that returned to you. Also, to build up your courage, remember the first Pope’s words, “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you.” (1 Pt 4:14)

This next advice from Jesus was practiced by the Holy Name of Mary Catholic Work Camp teens and adults, when they went on mission to the people on the peripheries in the Bristol and Abingdon area.  Jesus said, “Stay in the same house and eat and drink what is offered to you…Do not move about from one house to another.” (Lk 10:7) For the most part, the teens worked on one person’s home the entire week, helping them with basic needs like wheel chair ramps and all kinds of home repairs. They prayed with them and “ate whatever was set before [them].” (Lk 10:8). In doing so, they built up that person’s God-given dignity and made friends with them. Do not underestimate this. Many of these people are not only poor, but also lonely or cut off from their family. The teens, seminarians, and bishop visiting them means the world to them.

The teens also grew closer to those they were on mission with. When we say yes to going on mission, God’s grace always accomplishes more than we expect. And the work camp teens and adults returned like the seventy-two; they were rejoicing. You can see their testimonies on the Holy Name of Mary Facebook page.

Jesus also said, “Cure the sick…and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God is at hand for you.’” (Lk 10:9) Do not gloss over this. Healings have always been a part of our faith and mission. And when we are speaking with someone that we think the Holy Spirit wants us to bring to Jesus, we need to listen expectantly and with a loving and compassionate heart. And if they share some difficulty, suffering, or fear, we meet Jesus in that pain with them, not to be overcome by it, but that Jesus may overcome it through us.

Father Henri Nouwen, in his book, The Wounded Healer, wrote the following about the power of these moments of intimate prayer. “Let us not diminish the power of waiting [to listen to a person who is suffering] by saying that a lifesaving relationship cannot develop in an hour. One eye movement or one handshake can replace years of friendship when [a person] is in agony. Love not only lasts forever, it needs only a second to come about.”

Father Nouwen also used a powerful metaphor to encourage us to enter into another person’s suffering so that we can pray with them there and bring them to Jesus. He wrote, “Who can save a child from a burning house without taking the risk of being hurt by the flames?” He wrote that we have to be willing to lose some of our “precious peace of mind…for who can take away suffering without entering into it?”

Jesus gave us that example on the Cross. Indeed, it is the power of the Cross, that entered into us at our baptism, that enables us to go on mission to enter into the suffering of those on the peripheries in order to bring them to Christ. Jesus’ suffering on the Cross gives our suffering and the suffering of the one we are praying with a purpose, salvation, and a power resurrection.

We are the seventy-two to whom Jesus promised, “I have given you the power to tread…upon the full force of the enemy, and nothing will harm you.” (Lk 10:19) Our enemy is not the people on the peripheries. Humanity only has only one enemy, Satan, and he has no power over us who are baptized and who through the Holy Spirit dwelling in us, do what Jesus commanded us to do: “Love one another as I have loved you.” (Jn 13:34) Jesus is sending us, and we were born for this. Amen.

Who Do You Say That He Is?

Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles
June 29, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Acts 12:1-11 / Ps 34 / 2 Tm 4:6-8, 17-18 / Mt 16:13-19
by Rev. Sam Hill, Guest Celebrant

I am so thankful to be here again to celebrate Mass with you all.  A couple of Wednesdays ago, on the 18^th, I said that Holy Name of Mary embraced me and that I was kind of surprised when I decided to go to seminary and discovered that all these people really cared about the priesthood.  You made me feel humble and I have so much gratitude to you all, especially as you took me in as a new convert and then as a man going off to the seminary.

What I was thinking about in reading this gospel today is that seminary is a time of deep interior conversion, or at least it should be.  It’s a place where we find that we encounter the Lord day after day.  We have Mass every day.  We have confession available every day of the week if you need it, and we are encouraged to go at least once a week, as seminarians preparing to be priests.

In a way, Peter and Paul, I think, had a seminarian experience.  They were with the Lord day after day, experiencing Him face to face, hearing His words, learning from Him, learning who they were themselves, and learning who Jesus was.  Therefore, at the core of this process of conversion, which we are all called to as Christians, is that question that we hear today: “Who do you say that I am?”  After encountering Jesus day after day, we find that we know him better and better, and we’re able to answer that question.

Who do you say that He is?  Who is He to you?  As we continue to grow in our Christian faith, Jesus never stops asking this question of us.   That’s important because this question is a marker that tells us if we have grown.  Have we grown closer to Jesus?  Somebody asked if it is even possible to know God, though.  Is it possible to know who Jesus is?  In fact, Saint Augustine would say that the person who says that he understands God reveals to everyone else that he understands nothing.  He doesn’t understand God at all.

Does this mean that we can’t know God?  No, we can.  We can know who God is, but our knowledge is maybe different than what we expect.  Our knowledge of God is our relationship; it’s something that’s ongoing and dynamic.  It’s continual and it continues to grow over time.

So, the answer to that question, “Who do you say that I am?” is not just one fixed thing.  You can’t just say, “This is who Jesus is,” and that’s it and that’s that.  But this question, this relationship, is dynamic; it grows.  And it’s dynamic, not in the sense that it completely changes.  Jesus is not changing it every day.  God is the same from all time.  But it changes in the sense that it’s always getting deeper.  You’re always able to grow more deeply and more profoundly in your faith.

There’s no end to the knowledge of God, but the relationship can grow stale.  In fact, it can lose life.  We lose interest in Him when we stop seeking to know Him.  The psalms describe Jesus as the fountain of life.  He’s not just a pool of life.  The baptismal font is not just a pool that’s stagnant or stale.  It’s described as gushing water.  We are always being filled continually with Him.  In fact, that’s what heaven will be like.  It won’t be this place where we just know who Jesus is.  It will be where Jesus is revealed in His fullness day after day.  There’s no end to God’s goodness, and heaven is the place where we will be filled day after day, moment after moment, with the fullness of God’s goodness.

A good friendship is one where you never stop learning more about the other person.  I challenge each of you, and this is a difficult thing, to ask your friend if you think about it, “Who do you say that I am?” Have you ever been asked that by someone else?  Who am I to you?  How do you see me?  How has your perspective changed about me over time?

I think it’s a very difficult question.  A lot of our friendships can feel stale at some point.  You have grown accustomed to each other, and you do the same things that you always do, but a true friendship is one that is always growing, always getting deeper, always getting closer.  This could be a really cool way to take stock of a relationship that has grown stale in your lives.

“Who do you say I am?”  This is a question that Jesus is asking us about Himself.  He’s asking, who do you see Me as?  This is a good Sunday for us to evaluate that question. Am I growing in love with God?  Or have I let that relationship grow stale?  Has that relationship grown flat?

Both Peter and Paul have great stories of growing in friendship with Jesus.  Their stories are great, not because they are just great apostles.  (We call them the princes of the apostles; they’re in the Collect prayer we heard this morning.)  They’re the ones that founded the Church.  Paul went out and preached to the Gentiles, and Peter became this solid figure who died in Rome.  Their stories are great, not because of how they ended, but because of what happened in the meantime.  They’re great because of the imperfections that they eventually overcame with Jesus’ help.

Peter was first a fisherman whom Jesus called and who came to know Jesus, but even in him we see this growth over time.  He knows Jesus as this man who has called him to be His follower at first, and then in the gospel today, we hear that Peter makes this profound profession of Jesus, “You are the Lord.”

After this passage we will encounter a Peter who denies Jesus, a Peter who abandons Jesus on the cross.  The fact that Peter is one of the apostles, allowed this story to be in the gospel.  God allowed this story to be shared.  He knows this story is for His glory and for our good.  This story lets us know that even though we have come to know Jesus, we don’t have to be perfect.  We can always grow more and more.  Jesus allows that too.  He knows that we’re imperfect, so despite that initial imperfection of Peter, despite his denial, despite his doubt, we come to the end of his life where he’s able to not turn away from his cross, but actually embrace it.

Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome has become a place of pilgrimage, even from the time that he died.  There’s a story about how, when Christianity became legal in Rome, the emperor Constantine built this beautiful church called St John Lateran, and that was going to be the heart of the church in Rome.  In fact, it’s still the cathedral of Rome.  It’s the place where the Pope presides.

However, Constantine noticed, and was disappointed, that many Christians would not go to that beautiful church.  They kept going out of the city walls across the Tiber River to a grand mausoleum called Vatican on the Vatican Hill.  He said, “Why are they going there?”  It was because they had a devotion to Peter even in the early days.  They had a devotion that carries on in the tradition even today.  That place where Peter died, where he made that testament, where his denial became his acceptance, where his denial became his great act of love and sacrifice.  It’s an important place for us as Christians and Catholics.

Paul similarly had a great conversion, because he was a Pharisee and he was persecuting the Christians.  Today, if there were somebody who was murdering Christians and all of a sudden he said, “I want to become an apostle,” would we even allow that?  Would we let that happen?  It’s kind of crazy to think that the very man who was killing many, many Christians became the one to evangelize the entire world, and became a testament to the Gentiles.  One of my favorite verses in the gospels says, “There is no greater love than this—to lay down one’s life for a friend.”  That’s what the Christian life is about.

Who do we say Jesus is?  He’s a friend, and that means that we grow in a relationship with Him day after day, that we grow deeper and deeper in love with Him each day.  So where will this friendship with Jesus take us?  I think we don’t really know.  Peter was a fisherman.  Paul was a Pharisee.  Paul was killing Christians, yet these two men became great apostles.  Each was unique, each was an individual in his mission, but they show us that friendship with Jesus is worth living for and worth dying for.

The Answer to Our Hunger

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
June 22, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Gn 14:18-20 / Ps 110 / 1 Cor 11:23-26 / Lk 9:11b-17
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today, on the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, Corpus Christi, the Church invites us to pause and contemplate the wondrous gift of the Eucharist, the source and summit of the Christian life.  In a world where many are starving, not just for food, but for love, truth, peace, and hope, the Eucharist remains God’s answer, a feast that feeds both body and soul.  Let us reflect on the readings that unveil the deep meaning of this feast.

In our first reading, we encounter Melchizedek, the mysterious priest-king of Salem, who offers bread and wine and blesses Abram.  This is more than an ancient gesture of hospitality; it prefigures the eternal High Priest, who will offer Himself under the signs of bread and wine.  Melchizedek’s act is the first priestly act in scripture involving bread and wine, and the Church sees in it a clear foreshadowing of the Eucharist.  This ancient encounter reminds us that the Eucharist is not a new invention.  It is rooted in salvation history and is the fulfillment of God’s plan from the beginning.

St. Paul, in the second reading, hands down what he himself received: the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper.  “This is my Body, this is my Blood, do this in memory of Me.”  The Eucharist is not a symbol or a reminder; it is a real participation in the mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection.  Every time we gather to celebrate the Mass, we proclaim the Lord’s death and resurrection until He comes again.  This reminds us that the Eucharist is not just a devotion. It is an encounter with the living Christ, a memorial that makes present the sacrifice of Calvary, transcending time and space.

In our gospel reading today, Jesus is preaching to the crowd and healing them.  When they are hungry, He multiplies five loaves and two fish to feed over five thousand.  He takes, blesses, breaks, and gives; the same actions you will see at the Last Supper.  This miracle is not just a gesture of compassion, but a sign pointing to the Eucharist where He feeds the world with his own Body and Blood.

St. Josemaria Escriva once wrote, “When you approach the Tabernacle, remember that He has been waiting for you for twenty centuries.”  This quote powerfully reminds us that Jesus, the Bread of Life, is not a distant figure from the past, but truly present, patiently awaiting us in every Tabernacle, ready to nourish and renew us.

All three readings today speak of a priestly offering of bread and wine, of divine blessing and abundance.  From Melchizedek’s offering to Paul’s account of the Last Supper, to Jesus feeding the multitudes, the message is clear:  God provides.  He gives not only what sustains our bodies, but what feeds our soul, His very self.  The Eucharist is the fulfillment of God’s eternal desire to be with His people in the most intimate and life-giving way.

The Solemnity of Corpus Christi was established to draw our attention more deeply to the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist: Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.  It is a feast of love and remembrance, not just of what Christ has done, but what He continues to do.  In our present times, a lot of people often overlook the sacred.  Where noise and destruction abound, this feast reminds us to adore, to give thanks, and to recognize the divine in the ordinary, in the humble Host.  The Feast of Corpus Christi exists to awaken in us a deeper reverence, love, and gratitude for this supreme gift.  It is a feast of remembrance and renewal.  It is also a public testimony.  That is why in many places, Eucharistic processions take place on this day, proclaiming to the world that Christ is present in our midst, not metaphorically, but truly.

We are reminded today that the Eucharist is God’s answer to our hunger for Him.  It invites us to center our lives on the Mass.  The Eucharist must not be just a Sunday obligation, but the heart of our Christian life.  We must also spend time in Eucharistic Adoration.  Like Mary of Bethany, we are called to sit at the feet of Jesus, to rest in His presence and to let Him transform our hearts.

The Eucharist is not just something we receive; it is a call to become Christ for others.  We are to be broken and shared, in service, in mercy, in love.  Let us also renew our reverence.  In a culture that is casual about sacred things, we are called to approach the Eucharist with awe.  Let us prepare our hearts to go to Confession regularly and to receive Him worthily.  Let us remember to be a witness to the Real Presence.  Our belief in the Eucharist must shape how we act, speak, and love, not just in church, but in the world.

In today’s world we are surrounded by hunger, not only physical hunger, but hunger for meaning, connection, truth, and beauty.  The Eucharist is our answer to this hunger.  It reminds us that we are never alone, never abandoned.  Christ is truly present and walks with us.  In the midst of individualism, the Eucharist reminds us of community.  In a world of division, it calls us to unity.  In a culture of superficiality, it draws us into the sacred.  In a time of busy-ness, it offers us rest in His presence.

Let us then return to the Eucharist with new eyes and open hearts.  Let us not take this miracle for granted.  Let us spend time in Eucharistic Adoration.  Let us participate in Sunday Mass with reverence and joy.  And let us become in our lives what we celebrate at the altar—Christ’s hands and feet in the world.  Today’s Solemnity is more than a celebration. It is an invitation to believe more deeply, to love more fervently, and to live more generously.  Jesus feeds us so that we can feed others.  He gives Himself so that we can give ourselves in return.  May our lives be a reflection of the Eucharist—taken, blessed, broken, and given for the life of the world.

God’s Being is Relationship

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
June 15, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Prv 8:22-31 / Ps 8 / Rom 5:1-5 / Jn 16:12-15
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, the central mystery of our Faith, and the heart of who God is:  one God in three divine persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Though the Trinity is a mystery, beyond full human comprehension, it is not a puzzle to be solved, but a truth to be lived and loved.  The Trinity is not a distant theological concept.  It is the life of God, shared with us, and the pattern for how we are to live in this world.

In our first reading, from Proverbs, we encounter Divine Wisdom, present before the beginning of the earth.  The Church has long recognized in this passage a reflection of the second person in the Trinity:  the eternal Son, the Word of God.  “Then was I beside Him as His craftsman,” we hear, “and I was His delight day by day.”  Wisdom is not just knowledge.  It is relational delight, creative joy, and eternal communion.  God’s very being is the relationship.

In Romans, Chapter 5, St. Paul invites us into that relationship: “We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”  This peace is not the absence of conflict but the process of God’s life in us, poured out through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.  The Trinity is not only revealed to us; it is shared with us.  In Baptism, we are drawn into the life of the Father, Son, and Spirit.  We become living temples of the Trinity.

In the gospel of John, Jesus prepares His disciples for the coming of the Spirit—the Spirit of truth—who will glorify Christ and declare what belongs to the Father.  This mutual giving and receiving, this perfect communion between the persons is the very light of God.

Notice that the Spirit doesn’t speak apart from the Son.  The Son reveals the Father, and the Father sends the Spirit.  This is the unity of truth and love we are called to mirror in the Church and in the world.  God is not solitary.  God is a communion of persons.  This has profound implications.  We are made not for isolation but for relationships—with God, with each other, and with the truth.

And yet we live in a time marked by division, relativism, and attacks on the most vulnerable among us, especially the unborn.  Today, the unity of the Trinity challenges us to bear witness to the truth with love, especially in the public square.  We, as believers of the risen Christ, must engage our consciences and communities in defending life and dignity in our Commonwealth of Virginia.

There is currently a great attempt underway—a two-year process—to add an extreme abortion amendment to Virginia’s constitution.  This amendment would not only permit abortion at nearly all stages but could possibly eliminate basic protections for unborn children.  The Virginia Catholic Conference has prepared vote reports for every parish showing how our elected representatives voted on this and other key issues.  We are called as Catholics, not just to worship the Trinity on Sunday, but to live the truth of the Trinity in our public witness.  That includes being informed, engaged, and faithful to the gospel of life.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church, §234, says,

The mystery of the most holy Trinity is the central mystery of Christian faith and life.  It is the source of all other mysteries and the light that enlightens them.

This mystery teaches us that God is love, and that all Christian life is a sharing in the life of the Trinity.  If we have received this gift, we must also share it, with courage, with compassion, and with clarity.

The Church teaches in the encyclical letters, Evangelium Vitae by Pope John Paul II and Caritas in Veritate by Pope Benedict XVI, that love must be truthful, and truth must be loving.  In a world that tells us to keep our faith private and accept moral confusion as tolerance, the Trinity calls us to a higher standard:  to unity in truth, charity in action, and clarity in conscience.

How can we respond to this higher calling?  Consider the following:

1. Pray and draw near to the Trinity. Make time daily for prayer, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Let God draw you deeper into His divine life.
2. Read and reflect on the vote report when it becomes available. Share it respectfully with your family, friends, and neighbors.  Voting is a moral act.
3. Speak the truth with charity. Defend the unborn and the vulnerable with both conviction and compassion.
4. Live unity in diversity. Just as the Trinity is unity in three persons, we must learn to work together as a Church.  There are different vocations, different gifts, but one mission.
5. Let your love be sacrificial.  Love as the Trinity loves, not in self-interest, but in self-gift.  That means being generous with our time, treasure, and truth.

The mystery we celebrate today is not distant.  It is intimate.  The Trinity is our origin, our destiny, and our guide.  As Pope Benedict XVI once said, “The Christian God is not a solitary being, close in upon Himself.  He is life, love, gift, and communion.”

Let us be living icons of the Trinity in today’s world.  People of truth, communion, defenders of life, and agents of peace.  Let us walk boldly and humbly, not to impose, but to propose the Gospel in the spirit of love and truth.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

The Breath of Our Christian Life

Pentecost Sunday
June 8, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Acts 2:1-11 / Ps 104 / 1 Cor 12:3b-7, 12-13 / Jn 20:19-23
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today we celebrate Pentecost Sunday, the glorious culmination of the Easter season and the birth of the Church.  It is a feast of power, promise, and purpose, a day when the Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles and forever changed the course of salvation history.  It is not only an historical event to be remembered, but a living reality to be embraced.  Pentecost reveals to us the life-giving presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church and in each one of us.

In the first reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, we witness the dramatic coming of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples.  As they were gathered together in one place, a sound like a mighty wind filled the house and tongues of fire came to rest on each one of them.  They were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different languages, astonishing the people of many nations who had gathered in Jerusalem.  This moment fulfilled Jesus’ promise to send the Advocate and it signified that the Gospel was meant for all people, Jews and Gentiles, near and far.  The Spirit who descended is the same Spirit who continues to inspire and empower the Church to proclaim the Good News without fear.

The second reading, from St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians, emphasizes the unity and diversity within the Church.  Paul reminds us that, though we have different spiritual gifts, it is the same Spirit who gives them.  Just as a body is one, though it has many parts, so too is the Body of Christ.  We were all baptized into one Spirit, forming one body.  This image of unity and diversity is crucial in a world that so often divides and isolates.  The Spirit is not a source of confusion, but of communion.  Our varied gifts are not for our own benefit, but for the good of all.

In our gospel reading, John takes us back to the evening of Easter Sunday.  The disciples, afraid and uncertain, are behind locked doors.  Jesus appears in their midst and says, “Peace be with you.”  Then He breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  This gesture of breathing recalls the moment of creation when God breathed life into Adam.  Now, Jesus breathes new spiritual life into His apostles, commissioning them to continue His mission.  He entrusts to them the ministry of reconciliation: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them.”  The Spirit is given, not for comfort alone, but for mission—mission rooted in mercy and peace.

These readings are intimately connected by the movement and action of the Holy Spirit.  In Acts, the Spirit empowers.  In Corinthians, the Spirit unites.  In the gospel of John, the Spirit recreates.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that Pentecost is the full revelation of the Holy Trinity.  (CCC 731-732) It is the moment when the Church is made visible, Catholic, and missionary.  It marks the beginning of the Church’s outward journey to bring Christ to the world.  The Church is Catholic because Christ is present in her.  Where there is Christ Jesus, there is the Catholic Church.  In her subsists the fullness of Christ’s body, united with its head.  This implies that she receives from Him the fullness of the means of salvation, correct and complete confession of faith, full sacramental life, and an ordained ministry in apostolic succession.  The Church to us, in this fundamental sense, is Catholic on the day of Pentecost and will always be so until the day of Parousia.

In the New Testament, Parousia means the Second Coming of Christ.  The way in which our Lord spoke of this Second Coming is connected to His other sayings referring to the establishment of the Kingdom of God here below and the destruction of Jerusalem which took place in 70 A.D.

In summary, the celebration of Pentecost represents 1) the day in which the Church received the outpouring of the Holy Spirit;  2) the founding of the one holy, Catholic, and apostolic church that has the fullness of the means of  salvation;  3) the beginning of the age when Jesus communicates His work of salvation through the liturgy of the Church;  4) the beginning of the dispensation of the Church’s sacraments;  5) the ordained ministry and apostolic succession;  6) the arrival of the invisible kingdom on earth in Jerusalem, a kingdom already inherited though not yet consummated.

St. Augustine beautifully reflected on this mystery when he said, “You breathe in the Spirit when you are silent, you speak with the Spirit when you preach, and you live by the Spirit when you love.”  His words remind us that the Holy Spirit is not simply a momentary experience, but the very breath of our Christian life.  In silence, we listen.  In speech, we proclaim.  And in love, we truly live.

How should we respond to this great gift of the Spirit?  First, we must open our hearts through prayer.  The apostles were gathered in prayer when the Spirit came, and so must we be.  The Holy Spirit does not force His way into our lives.  He waits to be invited.  Second, we must recognize and use our spiritual gifts.  Every baptized Christian has been given gifts by the Spirit, gifts meant to serve, build up, and bring life to others.  Third, we must strive for unity.  In a time when division, polarization, and isolation abound, we must be agents of reconciliation and communion.  The Spirit bridges differences and builds harmony.  Fourth, we must be on a mission.  Pentecost is not the end of the story.  It is the beginning.  The Spirit sends us forth to bring the peace and joy of Christ to the world around us.

In today’s world, marked by war, injustice, fear, and loneliness, we need the Spirit’s gifts more than ever.  We need wisdom to discern what is good and true.  We need courage to stand for justice.  We need understanding to listen deeply to others.  We need patience and gentleness to be peacemakers.  The Spirit is not far from us.  He is here within us, beside us, and working through us.  We must only say, “Come, Holy Spirit.”

Pentecost is not only a celebration of what God did once.  It is a proclamation of what God is still doing.  The Spirit continues to breathe into our lives, to rekindle the fire of faith and to send us out into the world.  Let us open our hearts to receive Him.  Let us speak His word with boldness, live His peace with joy, and love one another with a love that reflects the very heart of God.

Come, Holy Spirit.  Fill the hearts of Your faithful.  Kindle in them the fire of Your love and You shall renew the face of the earth.    

Share Your Joy

Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord
June 1, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Acts 1:1-11 / Ps 47 / Eph 1:17-23 / Lk 24:46-53
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon

Though it is the seventh Sunday of Easter, in our diocese, we are celebrating the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord today.  It is the prequel to Pentecost, which is celebrated next Sunday, and that concludes the Easter season.

There are a couple of other things to note about next weekend.  First, Holy Name of Mary seminarian, Deacon Sam Hill, will be ordained on Saturday and will celebrate his first Mass as a priest next Sunday at St. Andrews Basilica in Roanoke, and he invited me to serve on the altar with him.  Second, Pentecost marks the end of year three of the Eucharistic Revival, the year of mission.  The year of mission ties powerfully to the Ascension of our Lord, so that is the focus of this homily.

Before I preach on mission though, I want to share some teachings on the Ascension from some greats in the American Catholic Church.  Scott Hahn, speaking about the Ascension on YouTube, says that, when Jesus ascended, He took our humanity into the divinity, thereby completing our redemption. Jesus’ Ascension unites us to the Trinity.

Bishop Fulton Sheen, also speaking about the Ascension on YouTube, explained that Jesus ascended to the right hand of God because He shares in God’s glory and is mediator between God and man.  As mediator, Jesus is constantly showing His Father His wounds, saying, “Father, I love them.”  Jesus can say this because He entered into all our brokenness and experienced all our temptations, and He sympathizes with us.  We know this because, from the cross, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” (Lk 23:34)

Now let’s discuss the relationship between the Ascension and mission.  In his reflections on the rosary’s Glorious Mysteries on the Hallow app, Bishop Robert Barron speaks of the Ascension (the second Glorious Mystery of the rosary), listing four things related to mission:

1) Notice that Jesus ascends after commissioning the disciples to take the gospel to the whole world. (Acts 1:8; Lk 24:47-48)

2) Jesus ascends but does not leave us.  By ascending, He is now with all of us all the time, for He is no longer bound by space and time.

3) Those who focus on heaven do the most good here on earth.  Those who pray most intently are most effective in the practical realm.

4) Jesus’ Ascension is an invitation to us to go on mission.  He exited the stage of God’s “theo-drama” so that we could enter the stage and continue Jesus’ mission under the direction of the Holy Spirit, who enters the theo-drama on Pentecost.

Reflecting on the third Glorious Mystery, Bishop Barron said the descent of the Holy Spirit enabled us to “go on mission.”  He elaborated, saying that living in the Spirit removes fear and even brings joy in persecution.  And Barron noted that the Holy Spirit appeared as tongues of fire.  He likened this to those living in the Spirit having fiery speech that is public.  We see this courageous missionary spirit in the early Church.

It has not been that way as much lately.  I am not sure when Catholics, especially in Europe and North America, stopped thinking in missionary terms, but we did.  In a survey of various Christian traditions, Catholics ranked well below other traditions in missionary focus or evangelization.  In the United States, I would say we are in the early stages of reversing that.  We are beginning to understand two things.  One, to quote Bishop Barron, “Catholicism is smart…beautiful…colorful and textured. It engages the mind, body, and soul.”  Second, is that if we care for others, we should want them to encounter the healing power of Christ in the Sacraments and in the Mass.  We should want them to experience the divine life and joy we are experiencing and that Jesus’ Ascension made possible.

Speaking of joy, the joyful moment described in Psalm 47 today, “God mounts His throne to shouts of joy,” is a prophecy fulfilled (like the other three hundred prophecies Jesus fulfilled) in today’s gospel.  St. Luke wrote, “As He blessed them, He parted from them and was taken up to heaven.  They did him homage (worshipped Him) and then returned to Jerusalem with great joy.”  That joy led them to “continually praising God in the temple.” (Lk 50-53)

Now let’s bring these reflections closer to our personal lives. About twenty years ago, I was a catechist teaching fifth-graders.  One of them asked me, “Why should we want people to become Catholic, even other Christians?”  I gave an answer, but it was not very good.  It bothered me that I could not give a confident and clear answer.  His question is so important, for in the answer is both our mission and our inspiration to evangelize.

To me, joy and love work hand in hand in being a missionary disciple who brings people to Jesus through the Catholic Church and brings fallen-away Catholics back to Jesus. The joy we have experienced we should want others to experience, especially if we love them.  Jesus asked us to love others as He does.  That means we should love everyone and want all to know the joy we know.  Bishop Barron says, “The surest sign that God is alive in you is joy.”  This is what Jesus meant when He said, “I came that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (Jn 10:10)

Through the Catholic Church, Jesus touches the mind, heart, and the body.  This should give us confidence as evangelists and missionary disciples!  Catholic Christians can literally bring people to Jesus. Our faith awakens all five human senses.

Chris Stefanick, on the topic of evangelization on Formed, got me thinking about the following:

Other churches can say, “Jesus forgives your sins,” but the person they are speaking to might wonder, “How will I know Jesus heard my prayer and how will I know for sure that He has forgiven me?”  We Catholics can say, “Jesus forgives your sins through His priest, who will be sitting there with you.  You will hear that priest, an emissary of Jesus, say, “I absolve you from all your sins.”  You will feel unburdened and receive grace to strengthen you against temptation and to be more compassionate toward others who sin.  And you can share your personal testimony, “I know this, because I have experienced Jesus’ power in Confession.”

Other churches can say, “You will be fed God’s word at our church.”  We can say, “You will be fed by God’s word and Jesus Himself in the Catholic Church.  Jesus said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven.  Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” (Jn 6: 51). He does this through His priests, through the power of the Holy Spirit.  During worship, you literally receive the bread Jesus spoke of and that the earliest Christians, such as St. Justin Martyr in 155 AD, wrote about!  And you can share your personal testimony, “I know that bread is really His flesh, because I have experienced healing and peace after eating it.”

Do you see how compelling our Catholic faith is?  It engages all the senses and the mind and literally feeds our soul.  My answer to that fifth-grader’s question now is something like, “I want others to become Catholic, including other Christians, because I want them to encounter Jesus’ love and healing not just spiritually, but physically, for that is the ‘living life to the full’ Jesus said He desires for us.  I want them to know my joy.  I want them to have not just a personal relationship with Jesus, but a physically intimate one.”

How do we bring others into the Church? We emulate Jesus by going to those who are seeking something more and just cannot find it.  Jesus reached out to the seekers of food, good health, and freedom, feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and freeing the sinner.  They listened to Him, because He gave them a vision of a better life and showed them the way there and gave them the grace they needed to follow the way.  People who are suffering are often ready for change and so respond to our invitation more readily.

Who in your life is seeking and ready for change?  Show them the way to encounter the true God in the physical vehicles of grace we call Sacraments.  The Sacraments are concrete things you can smell, touch, taste, and hear that put us in touch with the divine.  Prayer, praise, and song are all amazing, but Jesus gave us even more.  He did not leave us alone with hungers that cannot be filled.  He feeds, heals, and forgives us through His holy priests.  Not holy in and of themselves but made holy through the Holy Spirit in yet another Sacrament that is tangible, Holy Orders.

What an amazing gift we have received and that we can share with others.  I am not preaching solely an intellectual argument here.  I am preaching the person of Jesus who came to me physically in the Sacraments and saved me.  My life was a mess when His grace broke upon me through another tangible Sacrament, marriage.

Now let’s pray for the grace to go on mission:  Lord Jesus, keep us mindful that “we draw close to heaven and enter heaven to the extent we draw close to You and enter into communion with You.” (Magisterium AI, on the Hallow App) At the right hand of the Father, You continually offer Yourself for us, and You sent the Holy Spirit to your Church so that your heavenly offering may be made present in the Eucharist on this altar at every Mass.  May the Holy Spirit give us the courage, joy, and love we need to bring others to encounter You in the Sacraments of your Church. Amen.

Not As the World Gives You Peace

Sixth Sunday of Easter
May 25, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Acts 15:1-2, 22-29 / Ps 67 / Rv 21:10-14, 22-23 / Jn 14:23-29
by Msgr. Michael McCarron, Guest Celebrant

When I was in my 20s and had just been ordained a deacon and was working in my diaconal assignment, the pastor with whom I was working was quite a character, to say the least.  He was a brilliant man, but sometimes with some rough edges.  I don’t think he would mind my saying so.  In any case, when the gesture of peace would come around, I was with him on the altar, of course, and he was a powerful man.  He wasn’t large of stature, but he had some real oomph, I would say, and he would come to give me the gesture of peace in what today would be similar to a chest bump.  He would grab me and look at me and say, “May the peace of Christ always disturb you.”  The first time it happened, I said, “Well, and with your spirit.”  I didn’t know quite what to say, but I did think to myself, “Boy, I hope this doesn’t catch on.”  But it caught on to me.  The reality is that it comes right out of today’s gospel.

“Not as the world gives you peace.”  Not that complacent, calm, serenity business, not that kind of peace.  This is His farewell discourse.  This is what He’s saying right before He gives Himself up to death for our sake.  These are the chapters in which there is so much richness. He’s proclaiming all of this to his friends, His kind of last will and testament at the Last Supper.  The whole new world is about to dawn, and they don’t have a clue as to what is about to transpire.  I don’t just mean the trouble but what the trouble will usher in—the shattering of an old world is about to happen.  To call “peace” peace and place it in the context of what’s coming.  Everything He says is true, but wow!

Not as the world gives you this peace; it’s a peace that will disturb you.  When you, peaceful in My love, see hatred, it’ll make you crazy.  You won’t like it.  You’ll feel viscerally the presence of evil when you’re in its presence and, you know, that’s psychologically true.  When we’re in the midst of something very wrong, we feel it in our gut.  Jesus feels this way when He raises Lazarus from the dead—He knew this was wrong.  It’s the peace that allows us to see that things really aren’t the way they’re supposed to be.  It’s reaching back into that primal instinct from our first days before the Fall, where the remnants of that time that we only glimpse once in a while still linger in our ancient memories.  It’s that peace that tells us this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.  And we have spent how long, how many thousands of generations trying to bury it because it does disturb us?   We throw our hands up.  There’s nothing I can do about it.  It’s not my job.  My little bit won’t help.

Thank God for the Saints, regularly appearing in the midst of that denial to remind us that the disturbing peace of Christ does, in fact, do wonderful things.  Oh, that’s not just a story.  We all know that.  Anybody here happily married?  If you are happily married, even with all the struggles in that happy marriage, you felt this peace.  Why else would two normally sensible people look at each other at the ripe old age of 18, 19, 20-something, and say, “I’m going to be with this person forever?”  Right.  Yes.  Why would a man lie on the floor of a cathedral and say, “I will foreswear sexuality and my own will for the obedience to a Bishop I don’t even know, and I will live with God’s people as my family until I’m as old as McCarron and longer?”  Why?  Because the peace of Christ disturbs us enough to have a glimpse of what the world is like when we listen to it. And so, when we don’t listen to it, what do we get?  We get dry, and wizened, and dark.

The readings today are filled with fabulous one-liners.  I mean if you are going to embroider something, go to these readings.  Put them on a cushion.  Like the second reading from the Book of Revelation, one of my favorite books in the scriptures.  Of course, it’s everybody’s favorite for all the right and wrong reasons.  In this wonderful, wonderful statement where John says, as he looked at the new Jerusalem coming down out of Heaven, that no sun or moon was needed for light in the city of God, because the glory of God shone on it and the Lamb was its lamp.  You hear what he is saying?  He’s saying that, when you have Jesus, you don’t need the lesser lights, the lesser lights that we rely on.  We all rely on a lot of things to protect ourselves from what people think or say, to build ourselves up.  John is basically saying, if you’re relying on Jesus, you don’t need to rely on anything except His choice of you.  Don’t rely on your worthiness, because you ain’t got it!

I was a vocations director for about 18 or 19 years in our diocese, and I remember asking one person what was preventing him from becoming a priest.  He said, “Well, I don’t think I’m worthy for priesthood.”  I looked at him and said, “Really?  What sacraments ARE you worthy for?”  And the answer is none, but we are chosen for all of them.  The Lamb is its lamp.  When we are in love with Jesus Christ, when we spend time with Him, and yes, sometimes that is time for prayer, and sometimes it’s time before the Blessed Sacrament, but it’s also time before the blessed sacrament that is your husband, the blessed sacrament that is your wife, the blessed sacrament that’s your girlfriend, the blessed sacrament that is your boyfriend, your brother, your pesky little sister.  It’s spending time before them.  Do you think your guardian angels are looking at you and they linger because of your good looks?  Sorry, they see in you the spectacular gift of the Lamb shedding light in the image of God.  You are that gift, and the persons you live with are, too.  How cool is that?

And if that weren’t enough, of course, we have in today’s first reading the sending of this letter.  These poor people are getting bombarded by folks telling the Gentiles, well, it’s OK, you are welcome to be a Christian, but you’ve got to become a Jew first.  And they meant it!  They said that God made this covenant, and God’s covenant is made full in the Messiah, Jesus of Nazareth, who is a Jew and a rabbi, and so you must follow what He followed, and He followed the law.  So, the apostles didn’t know what to do, because the Gentiles weren’t having any of that.  I mean, you can imagine, I want to be a Christian, but you have to be circumcised first.  Never mind!  And you know, they weren’t being silly.  I mean, obviously, there was pain involved, but that wasn’t the problem.  The problem was that the pain involved could be lethal.  This wasn’t the days of antibiotics and antiseptics.  The knife you were doing a circumcision with today was the one you used to cut your fish with tomorrow and the day before.  People died of circumcision; they said, there must be something wrong with this.

And so, they say in their letter that “it is apparent to the Holy Spirit and to us.”  Don’t you love that line?  Can you imagine using that line when your teenage son comes home after curfew, and he knows he’s wrong?  You know he’s wrong.  He gets to the door and you go, “It appears to the Holy Spirit and to your mother and I that you are grounded for a week.”  I mean, what is he going to say?  The Holy Spirit said it had to happen.  The reality is that Jesus is giving us that Holy Spirit that allows us to see through Him the very way the Spirit is working.  That’s the peace that disturbs—when we see the way the Spirit is seeing, when we don’t just see through the vision of Christ in the Holy Spirit, we see WITH the Holy Spirit, and suddenly we see that people are people—not a race, not a religion.  The people who have hurt us are people who have hurt us.  The reality is that I’m bigger than any hurt I can receive.  There was no light in the city, no light in my life, no light in my dryness, no light in the hurt, no light in the sins I’ve committed, no light in all these things I need to be forgiven for, BUT it had no need of those lights because the Lamb was the light.

That’s the peace that disturbs us; it disturbs us enough to believe that when I look in the mirror, I really am God’s chosen one, but I’ve done this, and I’ve done that.  Do you think He doesn’t know that?  Oops!  If I had only known he was such a jerk, I would never have asked him to be mine.  God’s not surprised.  You cannot disappoint God, because disappointment means surprise and God’s not surprised by anything.  He knows whom He calls, and when He calls us to the table, when He gives us his very Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, it is to transform us.  It’s to make us different.

In a few moments, I’m going to read a prayer that says that basically everything we are is being placed into the bread and wine that’s being offered to the Father, who will receive it and transform it by the Holy Spirit into the Body and Blood of the Son.  That means that all of us, all of our ups and down, our sins, our foibles, all of that is being picked up, put into the bread and wine, and offered to the Father who accepts it.  The light is the Lamb, and as long as we have our eyes on Him, well then suddenly that girlfriend that we burn for is a daughter of the King, that guy that  we can’t live without is to be respected as the Holy Sacrament, that we should treat our sexuality with the same kind of reverence we give to the Eucharist, that we should look at those who have hurt us and pray for them.

I get in a lot of trouble because I watch the news and my heart is heavy, and I see these horrible people who have done horrible things, and I hear all of these things about people wishing they were dead, and they belong in Hell, and blah, blah, blah.  I pray for the perpetrator.  Do I think he’s good?  No.  I think he is a good person who has done horrible things, but he’s the one in danger.  He’s the one chosen who has thrown away his chosen-ness.  I’m disturbed by the hatred that he feels for himself.

I heard a story about a young priest who went into a little town in Italy, and he was sent there because it was an awful little town and he wasn’t a particularly good priest.  He didn’t know much and didn’t have a lot of education.  His superiors didn’t have a lot of hope for him.  So, as a young priest he went there, and he got up the morning after he arrived and opened the doors and he went outside. He walked down the center part of the main street in town, and he said, “Repent.  Believe the good news.  It’s awesome.”  Then he went back home.  He went about his priestly business, but every single day, the entire time he was there, he’d get up and he’d walk out and he’d shout at the top of his lungs, “Repent.  Believe the good news.  It’s awesome.”  One day, after about ten or eleven years of doing this, a little kid came up to him and said, “Father, with all due respect, you haven’t done anything.  The place is still a mess; everybody is still who they are.  You haven’t done a thing to change them.”   The priest stopped and looked at the little kid, and he said, “Change them?  I’m trying to keep them from changing me.”

The peace of Christ that disturbs us keeps us from being like our society.  The peace of Christ that disturbs us makes us see things that no one else will see, keeps us from being blinded to the goodness of those who hate and those who are hated, makes us see in the immigrant, and the poor—people who aren’t a problem to be solved, but a family member to be helped.  It’s not outside our grasp, and if it seems like it’s too big of an issue, well, okay, start at home.  Feed the hungry child who desperately just needs Dad’s attention.  Feed the teenager who’s beset by a thousand options, all of them alien to the Gospel, by proving in yourself as a parent, that it’s awesomely joyful to be a Christian and a Catholic.

Today, you and I will receive the Body and the Blood and the Soul and the Divinity of Christ.  The same One upon whom St. John, who wrote the second reading, lay his head at the Last Supper, will be in our hands or on our lips.  The same One.  If we sit down without a smile on our face, if we sit down without that peace that’s disturbing us, and maybe prompting us to write that letter to the elderly aunt we haven’t talked to in so long, or to tell our teenage kids how much we love them, or to tell a husband or wife you’re still the best looking thing I’ve ever seen, then maybe we should rethink how we are receiving Him and try again.

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless You, because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the world.  If that’s not peace disturbing you, I don’t know what is.

I Make All Things New

Fifth Sunday of Easter
May 18, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Acts 14:21-27 / Ps 145 / Rv 21:1-5a / Jn 13:31-33a, 34-35
by Msgr. Michael McCarron, Guest Celebrant

Our gospel reading today is incredibly rich.  It’s also ancient, proclaimed in the Church’s lectionary since about the fifth century.  So once again, we’re in a part of the lectionary that allows us to stand on the shoulders of giants, as they say, our forebears in the Faith.  The reason that it’s here is that it is a pivot point.  This gospel serves as a hinge from the Easter season into the anticipation of Pentecost and the season that follows immediately after, with the great feasts and solemnities.

You’ll notice that in the first part of the season of Easter, we talked a lot about the Resurrection appearances.  We talked a lot about where our Lord was, what He was doing, what He was saying to His disciples who witnessed Him.  But now we’ve jumped back to another place.  It’s not Eastertide; it’s the Last Supper.  This is part of what is called the Farewell Discourse.  And it’s a part of the Farewell Discourse that follows pretty much the plan that John sees our Lord setting out:  His service to His people and then all of the great proclamations of His love for us that we can only do by the Holy Spirit, which is what we’re awaiting.  And so, the lectionary is pointing us towards Pentecost, which is only a couple of weeks away.

I would suspect that this gospel sounds a little bit difficult to understand.  I mean understand if, for no other reason, is all the “glorified”:  God is glorified in Him and God will glorify Himself and if He glorifies Himself, He will glorify Him rightly.  After a while, you say what’s the point?  But it’s a really big point, and it’s the point upon which the pivot happens because it says, “Now is the Son of Man glorified.”

Now this is the Last Supper and “Now is the Son of Man glorified.”  What’s happening now?  He’s about to be crucified.  That’s God glorifying Him?  That’s a very powerful statement.  You remember He’s at the Last Supper, and Judas has just gone out to betray Him, and Jesus says to the rest that now it’s happened and that the Son of Man is glorified by the Father.  And He’s doing it right now, right here in this room at this table and we would have a right to say, “It sure doesn’t look like a lot of glory.”  Especially to them.  We have the wonderful gift of reflection of two thousand years and know that a Resurrection is going to happen after this, but the people here did not know that.  It’s telling us something.  It’s telling us something about what it means to believe in the power of Easter, but also the wonder of Pentecost.

One of the great sins of our society — in fact, it’s the great heresy that grips our society — is cynicism.  Cynicism, which anybody over the age of about eighteen, or even younger than that, will be afflicted by, is a belief that things just don’t change.  Nothing’s going to change. The world’s always going to be this way.  I don’t change; this is just the way I am.  A lot of people, as we get older, just kind of shake our heads and say that these are habits I’m never going to break, on and on and on and on.  It really is out there, and it’s a very particularly serious heresy for Catholic Christians, because it robs us of hope.

Hope is the understanding that in fact what you see is not what you get.  That in fact what we taste is a better sign of what we’re going to get.  That moment when she says, “I do,” and our whole world just lights up with fireworks?  That’s a taste.  It’s not always going to be that way.  The fireworks will turn into a bonfire sometimes.  But the reality is that you knew then more truly than you’ve ever known.  I say to couples on their wedding day, you are seeing more clearly the truth right now, today, than you ever will.  Remember what you see, because sometimes it’s easy to forget you see.

When Jesus says He’s going to be glorified, He’s saying it in the midst of the understanding of a living hope that the evil which is about to capture Him and torture Him and bury Him is not the end.  He dispels and destroys any basis for cynicism.  If God can take the cross (the most horrible, obscene evil that human beings can ever do to each other, much less the Son of Eternal Father) and turn it into the greatest good that ever has been (the absolute power of life over death) so that the greatest  it’s-never-going-to-change death (which all of us feel when we lose somebody) is broken, what could He not do with us?  What sin in our past that nobody knows about that we think makes us unlovable can He not forgive?

The fact of the matter is, He knows us best, and He loves us the most.  The power of His love is to birth hope.  Hope that no matter where we are, whatever situation we’re in, however lackluster or lukewarm we’ve been in our faith, He births a hope so that the glory of God is revealed in the midst of our difficulty.  Why?  Because there in the midst of our difficulty, even at our desperation point, if we have hope, we’re seeing beyond it.  We’re seeing bigger than it, we’re seeing something more powerful.  If I look at that person that I’ve always had a low opinion of and begin to hope, I’m open to the possibility that there in that person, there may be something I can give to help them.  Or I could be helped by them by forgiving them for the ill they may have done me.  If I look at my children and begin to lose hope for their future, because the world seems so topsy turvy, perhaps I could remember what I understood when I held them first in my arms here or at the hospital, and realize I’d be willing to do anything I could to give them a future filled with hope.

Faith, hope, and love.  The greatest of these is love.  You know why that is, don’t you?  In heaven, we don’t need faith anymore.  What we had faith in we’ll see right before us.  Even in heaven, hope will at last be fulfilled: that thing which points us to a world that’s different, to a belief that’s different.  But we’ll still need love even in heaven.  Practicing that love now, as Jesus says, “God’s going to glorify Me in this,” but how will we see that glory?  By the fact that you love each other.   Because you’ve experienced My love, you’ve come to love each other as I love you.  How do I love you?  I love you the way the Eternal Father loves the Eternal Son.  In just a couple of verses He is going to tell us, not only do I ask you to love that way, I command it.  To love the way God loves.  You can’t be cynical if you have that kind of love.  You just can’t.  It’s not permitted, but it’s also not possible.

In the second reading, from the Book of Revelation, John says, “I saw a new heaven and a new earth,” and that everything that I thought was going to be here forever, it was gone.  There’s a whole new way of being a human being.  As that passage continues, the Lord says, “I am the Alpha and Omega.”  He says that I am the beginning and the end.  At the end of today’s reading, the Lord says, “Behold, I make all things new.”  Even you and me.

So, if there are patterns of hurt in your relationships that you don’t think you’re ever going to change, now is the time for God’s glory to shine.  If you haven’t had a great deal of respect or a good relationship with your parents, you can change today before you leave these doors.  With the hope and the power of the Eucharist itself, the love of Jesus Christ can make a husband and a wife see each other in all new ways, if we just let it.  We cannot be cynical because the only thing that is forever is God, and God is love, and His love is for us, and that means we’re forever in love with Him.

May Jesus Christ be praised forever.