Leaving the Median

Fourth Sunday of Easter
May 11, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Acts 13:14, 43-52 / Ps 100 / Rv 7:9, 14b-17 / Jn 10:27-30
by Msgr. Michael McCarron, Guest Celebrant

It’s such a joy to be here with you again today and over these next couple of weeks.  It’s exactly the elixir that this retired priest needed:  to have a parish community again for a while.  So, thank you for that gift.

I said to someone at the last Mass, and I would repeat it, especially since it’s happened twice in a row:  8 o’clock is really early.  Especially if you’re coming all the way from Lynchburg, which is not far, of course, but it means that, for me, I have to get up around 4:45 or thereabouts and get the dog settled and myself settled, so that I don’t come out bleary-eyed and mumbling things at Mass.

It’s always a joy for me to have the distance between my home in Lynchburg to this parish here in Bedford because of that drive.  I come out on 460 and, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried it at that hour on a Sunday, when there’s almost no traffic, but that drive is absolutely delightful.  It’s not usually delightful, especially if I’m behind you saying, “Hurry up!”  But that’s my fault.  This morning, however, when I came up it was just so awesome.  There was a little haze across the fields, the deer were kind of bedding down.  You could see them heading into the woodlands, instead of the middle of the road, like they usually do.  It was just wonderful and very peaceful and a wonderful way to arrive, of course, to celebrate the Prince of Peace.  It was really a gift.

And so, as I was driving along that 32.5 minutes, according to my GPS, that it takes to get here, I was immediately lulled into those wonderful spiritual thoughts, and I began to think about the median strip.  I mean, really, about the median strip!  I’ve always been fascinated by them.  When you think about it, they’re the victims of violence, aren’t they?  Somebody has come through what was once a pasture or a road, and just created this 4-lane highway, and left there in the middle, seemingly forgotten, this strip of land.

I admit that, if you’re a traffic engineer, and you’re here in the congregation, you shake your head and say “They’re there for a purpose.”  Yes, I know they’re there for a purpose.  They do serve a purpose:  they separate the lanes and keep the lights down; they do all sorts of things!  But there’s a study that says, since the late 1950s and early 1960s, when they began the interstate system and when road construction began to take in things like median strips for safety, a group of animals has begun to adapt to living in median strips.  They don’t live anywhere else, because they can’t get off of the median strip.  And if they do, they don’t get to the other side, generally speaking.  So, there’s a whole life ecosystem going on.

As I’m driving down the road, I’m kind of watching how the wildflowers are coming up, how different things are happening in that median strip.  And I thought to myself, I’d really hate to be a median strip, because they don’t go anywhere.  They always stop at a bridge, or at an intersection, or something.  They don’t go further.  And if you’re one of those lucky animals who has decided this is home, well, you’re wrong because you don’t go anywhere, either.

Today our Lord talks, as he does on this Sunday every year, about the Good Shepherd.  The readings we hear today have been proclaimed in the Church since the fourth century. This is part of the ancient lectionary, as pretty much all of Easter is.  This particular one is called Shepherd Sunday, because all of the readings are about being a shepherd, doing shepherd-like things.

In Jesus’ day, it’s beautiful.  We have this wonderful image of our Lord with a lamb across His shoulders.  It’s very touching.  But, of course, in Jesus’ day, if I called you a sheep, you would be really upset.  It still is not complimentary.  I mean, go to a friend of yours and say “You’re such a sheep,” and see if you get a happy response.  You won’t.

In Jesus’ day, and in ours, sheep are very sweet.  I mean, who doesn’t love a lamb?  You just want to cuddle with them.  But they’re dumb as a box of rocks.  I grew up on a farm that had sheep, among other things, and you just couldn’t help but love them.  They all have different personalities.  But they don’t know anything.  They can get spooked by a branch falling in a field a mile away.  They run, once they’re spooked, until they drop.  They don’t stop; they drop.  If they’re left to their own devices, they exhaust themselves.  They’re a catering service for wolves, basically.  They don’t protect themselves; they can’t.  They run and they are challenged and, if they fall in a creek, they turn over and they can’t turn themselves back.  They get soaked in the wool and they drown.

They need a shepherd, and that is Jesus’ whole point.  Goats are like the cats of the sheep world.  They can do anything on their own.  They have brilliant minds, they take care of themselves, they gather together and they push back any danger.  They don’t really need a lot of help.  Sheep in the wild need an awful lot of help.  In fact, without the shepherd – and Jesus is making this very clear in the gospel of St. John – they won’t go anywhere.  They stop.

But His sheep know him, and when He calls them, they come forward.  This is important for people who are living in the median.  And I hate to tell you, but we’re living in the median.  That is to say, we live in a time when faith has been reduced to a kind of pausing.  Faith has been reduced to trying not to stand out too much.  Faith has become a kind of Catholic agnosticism.  You know God exists.  Everybody in this room believes that.  We’re not sure He does anything.  He doesn’t really intervene.  He doesn’t really get on our side or have our back.  When we are in trouble, we go to a lot of different places before we get to Him.  He’s kind of our desperation point, isn’t He?

You see, Jesus is the Shepherd that we who live in the median – not quite sure, wanting to be sure, but OK about staying in one place – need.  He’s the one who gets us off the median.  We need a shepherd to see us across those four lanes.  We need a shepherd to tell us that there really is life on the other side of that concrete:  the concrete of our prejudices or our own grudges, the concrete of our opinions about ourselves when we look in the mirror and just don’t like what we see if we’re honest, the concrete of the difficulties we have with our kids, or we who are kids have with our parents.  We need a shepherd to show us how to get off of that median safely.

Jesus says that they know My voice.  They’ve heard what I’ve said to them.  And I’ve put them into My hand.  That is to say I will never let them go.  I will never get them to come out into the road unless I can lead them safely to the other side.  I will hold on to them.  Our prejudices can be coming down the road at seventy-five miles an hour, and we could be in the middle of the road, but He’s not going to let us get hit by them if we stick with the Gospel.

When we’re at work, and everybody’s talking about the new Holy Father, and that he’s an American, as though the Holy Father can be minimalized into a nationality, we are able to stand up and profess our faith, and what it means to be one Church of enormous diversity, with an enormous broad Catholic reach.  It means that Jesus, who has called us, has summoned us off the median because we’ve heard the voice of one person who makes more sense than all of the stuff we see on social media, the stuff that our computer can lure us to.  It tells us that our sexuality is some kind of a playground, instead of a sacred gift, as sacred as the Eucharist is – a sacrament to be given to another with faithfulness, permanence, and love.  We may feel like we’re in a pretty unsafe place.  But living on the median, we can begin to think that sometimes the bad behaviors we compromise with, that we accept, in order not to seem different, just pass by. Those bad behaviors can suddenly begin to be a toxin that takes hold of us and changes us.

Today we celebrate Mother’s Day.  We’re glad to celebrate our mothers.  Hopefully we remember a Mom who taught us that there was a difference between love and hate, forgiveness and grudges.  Hopefully, we remember a mother who, by her own example, showed us what she cares about.

Do you know what the first memory that comes to mind of my mother, at my ripe old age of almost seventy-four?  It is of my mother putting rubbing alcohol on me when I was about twelve years old, because I had the flu and my fever had gone up into the dangerous zone.  I don’t remember much else of that fever or of that time.  I just remember her being at my bedside late at night, and bringing my fever down.  Thanks, Moms.  Happy day.  I had a good shepherd.  It looked an awful lot like my mother.

That’s, of course, the point.  “The Father and I are one,” Jesus says.  That means when they hear My voice, and they follow Me, they know that I can get them, allow them, help them, infuse them to be Me to others:  Moms to their children, husbands to their spouses, children to their parents, elderly to the young, and bless the young, to us, who are older in years.

It’s funny to be on the median, isn’t it?  It looks very peaceful, but sometimes it’s a little too peaceful.  The median isn’t the woods.  The woods give life to so many creatures.  The medians give it only to a few that will accept the narrow boundaries as normal.  We don’t.  We’re Catholics.  We have no boundaries.  Our boundaries are as big as eternity, as long and as deep as grace.  And we have a Shepherd who will never let us be extricated from His grasp.  And He’s grabbed us, tight, with a hug that leads to everlasting life.  Does it go somewhere?  It goes on forever, as it should.

May Jesus be praised forever.

Food for the Journey

Holy Thursday – Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper
April 17, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Ex 12:1-8, 11-14 / Ps 116 / 1 Cor 11:23-26 / Jn 13:1-15
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

In your own families I’m sure you have a calendar of your own, just for your family.  It’s not a big calendar of New Year’s Day or Memorial Day, or the Fourth of July, like the great national calendar.  It’s the calendar of your family: the calendar of the birthdays, the wedding days, or maybe the time you first met and where you first met.  It’s the calendar of those big dates and maybe some sad dates, too:  a car accident, or a death in the family, and those things that mark the calendars down through the years.

I love to think of this Holy Week as our calendar.  It’s not a particularly special day for the country or the world, but it’s our calendar.  It is here that we count our time, and obviously, a lot of the people you know don’t recognize this timing.  Why, in the middle of all this on a Thursday, all of a sudden, you’re counting time, you’re marking time, differently?  Maybe that’s where we got that expression, “She marches to a different drummer.”

We have a rhythm.  Our whole creation has a rhythm to it the way we understand it.  It’s not just building material that we can rearrange the way we like.  It comes with a pattern; it comes with a shape to it.  Even in science, for example, there is a pattern.  The Vatican astronomer spoke up in Lexington this year.  He said, “Science is meant to lead to worship.”   We see the patterns of God, and we want to begin to know who is the One behind these patterns?  Who is the One behind these forms?  And so, we measure things a little bit differently.

With this Holy Thursday feast today, especially this year, I was struck because it coincides exactly with the Jewish Passover feast.  It coincides this year, but not every year, because of the course of history.  We’ve asked, “How are we going to measure?”  Maybe by the first day of spring, because that’s the way the sun works.  Or is it the lunar cycles, the cycles of the moon?  There are different ways to measure, and that’s why you have an Orthodox Easter and a Catholic Easter.  The Eastern and Western Churches calculated differently, but what they had in common, together with the Jewish people, is that all this creation of God and all this history is all connected.  It’s somehow all connected.

When we say, “in those years since the time of Christ,” we say “AD.”  If you know your Latin, that means anno Domini, in the year of the Lord.  That way, we’re counting time with Christ at the center point of history, with the incarnation of Christ at the very center point of the cosmos and of all human history.  He’s at the center.  That’s how we count.

Sometimes when people don’t understand what’s going on at the Mass, I’ll say, “Well, you know, it’s okay.”  The Mass is not something that started in America, nor is it something that came over from Europe.  It comes from the Middle East.  What we do always comes from the Middle East.  Those are the origins of our faith, the patterns.

This year, the whole Passover Week is exactly the same as Holy Week.  It began as did our Holy Week, as is the Jewish custom.  A lot of our roots are taken from our great Jewish ancestors.  There are a lot of the roots of this faith.  And so, the pattern for this Holy Week begins when?  Sunset, Saturday night, last Saturday night.  Because in the Jewish reckoning, the day always begins at sunset the night before.  That’s when you start counting it.  So, what we call the Vigil Mass is really a Sunday Mass, but it’s done in vigil, the night before.  That’s when Passover begins.

Holy Week finishes on Easter Sunday at sunset.  That means that the week is right smack on top of the feast of Passover.  It suggests to us, especially in the celebration of Holy Thursday, the many gifts that accompany these celebrations.  Think of the great gifts of today:  the first First Holy Communion.  Some have said the first Mass – I suppose you could, but it was definitely the first First Holy Communion for all the Apostles.  This was the beginning of the Eucharist that is to accompany us, the manna from heaven, built on the Jewish patterns.  And now, we have not the manna that came down during the night, nor the quail that they were able to kill to eat, but the Body and Blood of Christ.

So tonight, we commemorate the gift of the Eucharist, the institution of the Eucharist.  We commemorate the institution of the New Testament priesthood, not the Aaronic priesthood of offering sacrifices, but the New Testament priesthood.  When did that happen?  Well, you’re going to hear it at Mass tonight, when He says, “Do this in memory of Me.”  It’s that simple.  It wasn’t like a Super Bowl half-time show.  In all simplicity, the greatest gift to the Apostles around was: “Do this (what we do tonight) in memory of Me.”

So, think about what went before you.  I think, especially when I’m among Catholics, that every single one of you came from immigrant stock.  There wasn’t one of us who didn’t, if you check back in your family.  Maybe you remember the stories.  I’m old enough.  I guess I got the fresh stories of the trip over:  steerage in the boat, the anti-Catholic prejudice.  I got all the stories.  Maybe you got some of them.  But that’s part of your depth, because those people came with a faith.  When you think of all those in our own families who came over, they didn’t know what they were getting into.

Like a lot of life, if you really knew what you were getting into, you’d beg off.  We’d say, “I don’t think so.  I’m afraid.”  But we got into it and flourished.  We follow the Jewish pattern.  So, what happened that first Passover?  First of all, we hear the command.  Egypt is the slave-owner.  The people of Israel are in Egypt.  They were in Egypt and were enslaved, and they were just pushed harder and harder.  They’re pushed to their breaking point.  It’s Moses whom God chooses to lead them out.  And he gives them their order for Passover.

First of all, Passover is meant to be commemorated in the family or in the local community.  By Jesus’ time, when they were celebrating Passover, there was a rule:  you couldn’t leave Jerusalem.  The whole family had to come to Jerusalem.  The whole family had to get together.  This is a family feast.  The whole family had to get together because that’s where you get your strength.  And there you heard the orders:  to sacrifice the lamb, to eat the meal, a convivial meal.  The rule was that you couldn’t leave Jerusalem, because they said, on this one night, everybody’s got to be there, because it’s so important to keep that tradition.  Otherwise, we risk just falling apart, if we don’t remember.

Of course, then, the eating of the Passover lamb is a foreshadowing of Christ who will become the lamb of the Passover. The understanding is that what was begun in the Passover is continued in the pattern. First of all, the Church is still a pilgrim people.  Israel had a promised land to look forward to.  We have a different promised land, for which we depend on the manna from heaven, and we still know that we are nomadic.  We’re nomadic people in the sense still that there is no lasting city, that we can’t count on making this earth perfect. Pope Benedict said, “If we try to think this world is supposed to be perfected, we’ll make Hell out of it.”   Our lives are carried out in moments of great beauty and in moments of great darkness and sadness, where each generation, and the Church in each generation, has its own challenges on the way, always on the way, looking forward to the final resolution.

And so, we get to take nourishment from, not the manna that came down from heaven, but the Body and Blood of Christ.  On the journey, we always need to be grateful, as God taught Israel to be, for the beautiful things given it.  We must also keep faith through the sad times as well, keeping faith through tough times because Israel’s been through them, and the Church has been through them.  There’s no generation that hasn’t, and that’s a way, I think, to interpret our own lives.

In our lives, there come times of great fullness, when you can’t imagine it being any other way and equal times of emptiness, when you can’t imagine it being any other way.  Yet somehow, in every generation, we turn ourselves over finally to God.  We surrender to this manna from heaven.  So, every generation is able to give its own witness that God did provide.

Conquering Temptation

Fifth Sunday of Lent
March 9, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Deut 26:4-10 / Ps 91 / Rom 10:8-13 / Lk 4:1-13
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

As we begin the sacred season of Lent, the Church invites us to reflect on Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness, where He faced temptation.  Lent is a time of spiritual renewal, a journey through the desert of our lives, where we are called to turn away from sin and prepare our hearts for Easter.  Today’s readings guide us in understanding the significance of faith, obedience, and trust in God as we confront our own struggles.  

In the first reading, Moses instructs the Israelites to bring their first fruits as an offering to the Lord, remembering how God delivered them from slavery in Egypt.  This emphasizes gratitude and trust in God’s providence.  The Israelites acknowledge that their freedom and blessings are not of their own making but are gifts from God.  This act of remembering and thanksgiving strengthens their relationship with Him.  Similarly, we are called to recognize God’s work in our lives, responding with faith and devotion.  

Paul, in his letter to the Romans, reminds us that salvation is near:  “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart.”  He teaches that confessing Jesus as Lord and believing in His resurrection lead to salvation.  This passage highlights that salvation is available to all who call upon the Lord with faith.  Paul emphasizes that righteousness does not come through human effort alone but through belief in Christ.  Our Lenten journey should be one of deepening this faith and surrendering to God’s grace.

There is a story of an exasperated motorist who parked his car in a no-parking zone.  He attached the following message to the windshield:  “I have circled this block twenty times.  I have an appointment to keep.  ‘Forgive us our trespasses.’”  When the owner of this car returned, he found this reply attached to his own note:  “I have circled this block for twenty years.  If I don’t give you a ticket I will lose my job.  ‘Lead us not into temptation.’”

Today’s gospel passage from St. Luke tells us that Jesus, led by the Holy Spirit into the desert, is tempted by the devil.  Our first parents were tempted but they failed.  The Israelites were tested in the desert, and they also failed.  Jesus is tempted, and He wins.  The temptation of Jesus is always read on the first Sunday of Lent.  One of the reasons this passage is read every first Sunday of Lent is because Jesus’ forty days in the desert is paralleled with the forty days of Lent.  The gospel recounts Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  After fasting for forty days, He is confronted by the devil, who tempts Him with physical comfort, which is turning stones to bread; worldly power, which is authority over kingdoms; and testing God, which is jumping from the temple.  Jesus resists each temptation by relying on the word of God, demonstrating His unwavering obedience to the Father.  His victory over temptation is not just for Himself, but for all humanity.  

Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness serves as a profound revelation of His role as the Messiah, countering worldly expectations of power. Through entering our weaknesses and being tested yet sinless, He vanquished temptation for humanity.  The Church commemorates this mystery annually during Lent, inviting believers to confront their own wilderness experiences with trust in God’s presence and help.  

All three readings highlight faithfulness to God.  In Deuteronomy, the Israelites remember God’s past faithfulness and respond with gratitude.  In Romans, Paul affirms that salvation comes through faith in Christ.  The gospel reveals Jesus as the model of perfect obedience, resisting temptation and remaining faithful to God’s will.  These readings remind us that, like Jesus, we must trust in God’s word and resist the temptations that lead us away from Him.  

The Church teaches that temptation itself is not sin, but a test of our faith and reliance on God.  Christ’s victory over temptation shows us that we are not alone in our struggles.  Through prayer, fasting, and reliance on scripture, we can overcome the temptations that challenge our faith.  Christ’s victory over temptation is achieved through His loving obedience to the Father.  Understanding and following the Father’s will is very essential for our lives.  Neglecting it leads to spiritual loss, while fulfilling it leads to sanctity.  

Emphasizing obedience as the core of our faith, we are called to align our actions with divine guidance.  We face many temptations on a daily basis:  materialism, power, selfishness, and destruction of our spiritual lives.  The season of Lent calls us to turn from these temptations and turn to God.  We can do this through:  first, prayer, deepening our relationship with God and seeking His guidance during moments of temptation; second, by fasting, detaching from worldly distractions to focus on what truly matters; third, through almsgiving, serving others as an expression of our faith and gratitude.

To fully enter into the spirit of Lent, let us reflect:  Do we prioritize our relationship with God?  Are we using the season to grow in faith or are we distracted by the world?  How can we be more generous with our time and resources?  By embracing these Lenten practices, we follow Christ’s example and draw closer to God.  When we face our own wilderness experiences, we must remember that Jesus has already won the victory for us.  With faith and obedience, we too can overcome temptation and grow in holiness.  

As we journey through Lent, let us fix our eyes on Jesus, who conquered temptation for our sake.  Let us embrace this season as an opportunity to renew our faith, trust in God, and commit ourselves to His will.  May our Lenten journey lead us to Easter with our hearts transformed and strengthened in Christ.  

Trust in the Lord

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 16, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Jer 17:5-8 / Ps 1 / 1 Cor 15:12, 16-20 / Lk 6:17, 20-26
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

As we reflect on today’s readings, we see a striking contrast between those who trust in themselves and those who place their trust in God.  The scriptures challenge us to examine where we have placed our hope and security.  In a world that often measures success by wealth, power and influence, Jesus’ words in today’s gospel are radical and countercultural, but they also lead us to true and lasting joy.

The prophet Jeremiah gives us a clear image of two kinds of people.  First, those who trust in human strength are compared to a barren bush in the desert: dry, lifeless, and unable to bear fruit.  On the other hand, those who trust in the Lord are like a tree planted near water, with deep roots that withstand heat and drought.  The prophet makes a sharp contrast between those who trust in human strength and those who trust in God.  Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings.  Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord.

Jeremiah’s message is clear:  human strength alone is unreliable.  It is not a warning against human relationships or seeking counsel from others, but rather a call to recognize that our ultimate goals – security and happiness – rest in God alone.  Everything in this world, including wealth, power, and even human approval, passes away.  God alone remains our firm foundation.  When we rely on our own wisdom, wealth, or power, we eventually find ourselves spiritually dry and empty.  But when we root ourselves in God, we can endure trials and bear good fruit even in difficult seasons.

St. Paul, in our second reading from first Corinthians, reminds us of the ultimate reason for our trust in God:  the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  If Christ has not been raised, our faith is vain.  Because He has risen, we, too, have the promise of eternal life.  This truth transforms our understanding of what it means to be truly blessed.  The world may see poverty, suffering, and rejection as curses, but in Christ these trials become paths to holiness, purification, and ultimate joy.  This reading connects beautifully with Jeremiah’s message.  The one who trusts in human ways alone is like a person who believes this life is all there is.  The one who trusts in Christ, however, understands that our lives are not limited to this world.  We are called to something eternal.

Today, and for the next two weeks, our gospel is the teaching of Jesus, which in St. Matthew’s gospel we know as the Sermon on the Mount.  Luke and Matthew present essentially the same material, but there are some notable differences.  While St. Matthew tells us that Jesus went up the mountain to teach, St. Luke depicts Jesus descending the mountain after prayer to teach on level ground.  For this reason, St. Luke’s version of Jesus’ teaching is often called the Sermon on the Plain.  Both evangelists begin with the Beatitudes, in which Jesus proclaims that those who follow His way are blessed, or happy.  St. Matthew records eight Beatitudes, while St. Luke gives us four, followed by four corresponding woes.  Despite these variations, the message remains the same:  True blessedness is not found in worldly success or fleeting pleasures, but in faithfulness to God.

Today’s liturgy provides us with a key to understanding these Beatitudes by giving us the passage from the prophet Jeremiah.  Jesus blesses the poor, the hungry, those who weep, and those who are hated for His sake.  In contrast, he warns those who are rich, full, and comfortable, telling them that their rewards are temporary.  At first glance, this may seem unfair.  Why would Jesus bless those who suffer and warn those who are successful?  The answer is found in where we place our trust.  Those who are poor in spirit recognize their need for God, while those who are self-sufficient may fall into the delusion that they do not need Him.

Fulton Sheen once said, “The world’s greatest tragedy is not suffering, but is suffering wasted.”  The Beatitudes and woes in Luke’s gospel call us to see life through the eyes of faith.  Jesus challenges the values of the world, where wealth, abundance, and human approval are seen as signs of success.  Instead, He teaches that true joy is found in trusting God, even in the midst of suffering.  Those who are poor, hungry, weeping, and rejected in this life are not abandoned but blessed because they are more open to God’s grace and the promise of His kingdom.  Conversely, those who place all their trust in material wealth, comfort, and human praise risk losing sight of what truly matters.

Answering God’s call requires trust and perseverance even though the path is difficult.  It reminds us that true happiness is found in God alone.  The Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1716, says the Beatitudes respond to the natural desire for happiness.  This desire is of divine origin.  God has placed it in the human heart in order to draw man to the One who alone can fulfill it.

The Beatitudes, we are promised, confront us with decisive moral choices.  They invite us to purify our hearts of bad instincts and to seek the love of God above all else.  In a world that constantly seeks happiness in temporary things, we are called to root ourselves in the eternal promises of God.  This means trusting God in our struggles, serving the poor, standing firm in our faith, even when it is unpopular, and finding joy in God rather than in the approval of others.  It means seeing suffering, not as a meaningless burden, but as an opportunity to grow in holiness and draw closer to Christ.

Jesus calls us to a different standard, valuing humility, compassion, and faithfulness over riches and power.  We should seek to serve, rather than dominate; give, rather than accumulate; love, rather than compete.  When we experience trials, we must remember that our true hope is in Christ’s victory over death.  The difficulties of this world are temporary.  Our true reward is eternal life with Him.

The world tells us to trust in riches, power, and comfort, but Jesus tells us to trust in Him.  Today, let us reflect where we place our trust.  Are we like the barren bush that relies on itself, or are we like the tree planted by the water, nourished by faith in God?  May we have the courage to place our trust in God alone, living out the Beatitudes, not just as words, but as a way of life.  Let us remember the wisdom of Jeremiah, the hope of the Resurrection proclaimed by St. Paul, and the challenge of Christ in the gospel.  For those who trust in the Lord, there’s no fear; only the promise of eternal life and true joy in Him.

God Qualifies the Called

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 9, 2025 — Year C
Readings: Is 6:1-2a, 3-8 / Ps 138 / 1 Cor 15:1-11 / Lk 5:1-11
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Have you ever felt unworthy of a task?  Too weak, too sinful to be used by God?  Today’s readings tell us that God does not call the qualified, He qualifies the called.  He chooses ordinary, flawed individuals and transforms them into instruments of His divine mission.  Isaiah, Paul, and Peter each experience an encounter with God that reveals their inadequacy.  Yet, they respond with faith and willingness.  Today’s readings tell us about answering God’s call in spite of our unworthiness.

In our first reading, Isaiah has a powerful vision of God’s glory, where the angels cry out, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts!”  (Is 6:3) In the presence of God’s holiness, Isaiah immediately feels unworthy.  “Woe is me; I am doomed. For I am a man of unclean lips….” (Is 6:5) God, however, purifies him with a burning coal, symbolizing transformation.  Once purified, Isaiah hears God’s call: “Whom shall I send?”  He responds, “Here I am…send me!”  (Is 6:8) Isaiah’s response teaches us that acknowledging our weakness is the first step to being open to God’s grace.  Despite our imperfections, God purifies us and calls us to serve.

St. Paul, in the second reading, reflects on the core of the gospel: Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection.  He humbly acknowledges his past as a persecutor of Christians, calling himself “the least of the apostles.”  (1 Cor 15:9)  Yet he declares, “But by the grace of God I am what I am,” recognizing that his transformation is solely due to God’s mercy.  Paul’s story mirrors Isaiah’s.  He, too, felt unworthy, but God’s grace made him a powerful instrument of evangelization.  His experience reminds us that our past does not define us.  God’s grace does.

In today’s gospel, we witness a profound moment of encounter between Jesus and St. Peter.  After a long and fruitless night of fishing, Peter and his companions are exhausted.  Their efforts have yielded nothing.  Yet when Jesus tells Peter to put out into deep water and lower the nets, Peter obeys, despite his doubts.  The result is astonishing:  a miraculous catch of fish so great that their nets begin to tear.  Overwhelmed, Peter falls to his knees saying, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  Instead of rejecting him, Jesus reassures Peter and calls him to a greater mission.  “From now on you will be catching men.”  (Lk 5:10)   The disciples leave everything and follow Jesus.  Like Isaiah and Paul, Peter is keenly aware of his unworthiness, but Jesus does not see him as he is.  He sees what he can become.

Peter’s response challenges us.  Do we trust Jesus enough to leave behind our fears and follow Him?  Peter had every reason to doubt.  He was an experienced fisherman and the conditions had not changed.  Yet, despite this human reasoning, he obeyed Jesus’ command.  This act of faith reminds us that when we trust in the Lord, even when His ways seem beyond our understanding, He can accomplish great things in our lives.

How often do we, like Peter, feel exhausted, discouraged, or convinced that our efforts are in vain?  Jesus calls us to deeper faith, to trust Him even when our experience tells us otherwise.

Peter’s reaction to the miraculous catch is striking.  Instead of pride, he is filled with humility and recognizes his unworthiness before the Lord.  This moment mirrors many encounters in scripture:  Isaiah’s vision of God’s glory (Is 6:1-8) and Paul’s conversion (1 Cor 15:1-11).  When we truly encounter Christ, we recognize our own sinfulness, but Jesus does not leave us there.  He calls us forward, not in fear, but in mission.

All three of today’s readings share a common theme:  a personal encounter with God leads to humility, transformation, and mission.  Isaiah, Paul, and Peter all feel unworthy, but God calls them anyway.  Their stories highlight the power of divine grace, showing that when God calls, He also equips.

The Church teaches that every baptized Christian is called to holiness and mission, regardless of personal weakness.  It is grace that enables us to fulfill God’s call.  Grace is first and foremost the gift of the Spirit Who justifies and sanctifies us.  Jesus transforms Peter’s identity.  He’s no longer just a fisherman.  He is now called to bring others to Christ.  This call extends to all of us.  As baptized Christians, we are called to evangelize, to share our faith and lead others to Jesus.  We may feel unworthy, unqualified, or fearful, but Jesus reassures us, “Do not be afraid.”

Peter and his companions leave behind their boat, their nets, and their old way of life.  Following Jesus requires sacrifice, but what we gain is far greater than what we leave behind.  The invitation to discipleship is a call to trust, to let go of attachments, and to surrender our lives to Christ.

St. Mother Teresa, who dedicated her life to serving the poorest of the poor, once said, “God does not require that we be successful, only that we be faithful.”  This echoes today’s gospel.  Peter did not need to be a perfect fisherman.  He just needed to trust Jesus.  Likewise, we may not always see immediate success in our mission, but God asks us to remain faithful.

Many of us hesitate to serve because we feel unworthy.  Like Isaiah, Paul, and Peter, we must remember that God’s grace is greater than our weaknesses, so that we can overcome those feelings of unworthiness.  Let us also trust in God’s plan.  When Peter obeyed Jesus, he witnessed a miracle.  When we trust in God, even when it seems illogical, He works in ways we cannot imagine.

We may not be aware of it, but in our daily lives, God is always calling us to help the needy, share our faith, or forgive someone.  Instead of saying, “I am not ready,” let’s say, “Here I am, Lord.”  Let’s say yes to God’s call.  The world measures success in achievements.  God measures it in faithfulness.  We are called to serve even if we do not see immediate results.

Today’s readings remind us that God’s call is not based on our worthiness, but on His grace.  Like Isaiah, Paul, and Peter, we are called to trust Him, respond with faith and follow where He leads.  May we too, say with Isaiah, “Here I am Lord.  Send me.”  Let’s go forth knowing that God does not call the perfect.  He perfects those He calls.

Live With Gratitude and Confidence

Second Sunday of Advent
December 8, 2024 — Year C
Readings: Bar 5:1-9 / Ps 126 / Phil 1:4-6, 8-11 / Lk 3:1-6
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today we light the second candle on the Advent wreath, known as the “Bethlehem candle.” It symbolizes peace, preparation, and faith. The Bethlehem candle reminds us of Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem, a journey marked by faith and trust in God’s plan. It points to the peace that Jesus’ birth brings to the world, a peace that is not merely the absence of conflict, but the presence of God’s love and salvation.

As we light the candle, we are invited to reflect on how we are preparing our hearts for Christ’s coming. Are we making straight paths in our lives for Him? Are we embracing the peace that His birth promises? Just as Mary and Joseph trusted God’s plan amidst uncertainty, we too are called to walk in faith and prepare ourselves to receive the Prince of Peace.

The Second Sunday of Advent invites us to embrace the hopeful preparation that Advent entails, a season that bridges the promise of the past with the fulfillment of the future.  The readings today converge on the themes of restoration, preparation, and hope in the Lord. They call us to live in the present, as a place of encounter between what God has done and what He’s about to do.

The reading from Baruch paints a picture of Jerusalem being restored to its former glory. The people are urged to cast off their sorrow and wear robes of righteousness, for the Lord is leading them in joy. This restoration is not just physical but spiritual, signaling God’s unyielding faithfulness. This is a song of hope and restoration. Baruch encourages Jerusalem to rejoice, because God is about to deliver His people from exile and lead them back home in glory.

The imagery of God leveling mountains and filling valleys symbolizes His power to remove obstacles in our lives, making a straight path for His salvation. It reminds us that Advent is a time to trust in God’s promise to bring about renewal and joy.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians complements this, with an invitation to gratitude and confidence. Paul, writing from a prison cell, radiates joy as he reflects on the Philippians’ faith journey. He reminds them of their faithfulness and asks that God, who began a good work in us, will bring it to completion. Paul’s letter reflects his gratitude and a deep affection for the Philippians. He is confident that the good work God has begun in them will be completed.

This reading emphasizes the themes of growth in love, knowledge, and righteousness. It calls us to trust in God’s ongoing work in our lives and to prepare ourselves spiritually for the coming of Christ.

In the gospel, John the Baptist’s voice cries out in the wilderness, preparing the way of the Lord. He calls for repentance and readiness to receive the salvation that God is bringing. The gospel introduces John the Baptist as the forerunner of Christ. His call to prepare the way of the Lord echoes Isaiah’s prophecy and challenges us to repentance and renewal. John’s message is a reminder that Advent is a time to clear the obstacles of sin and indifference in our hearts, so that we can fully receive the Lord.

Together, these readings remind us that God’s salvation is both a promise fulfilled and a work in progress. We are called to prepare our hearts and lives for His ongoing work of restoration.

Reflecting on Paul’s imprisonment, we see a profound example of living in the present as a convergence of past gratitude and future hope. Despite being in a Roman jail, Paul’s letter is filled with joy. He’s grateful for the Philippians’ faith and confident in God’s plan for their future.

Christmas is only three weeks away. Hospital workers report that hospital wards are practically empty at Christmas time. No one wants to spend Christmas in the hospital, much less in jail. Christmas is a time of joy, and there’s no fun in a hospital bed or in a prison cell. Yet, Paul’s most cheerful letter to the Philippians was written from a prison cell. Paul was in detention in Rome, awaiting trial. Neither the uncomfortable conditions in the prison cell or the uncertainty of the outcome of the trial was enough to rob Paul of his joyful and cheerful disposition.

What was the secret of Paul’s unflagging optimism? No doubt, it was his faith in Christ. This faith is expressed in important attitudes: an attitude of gratitude in regard to the past and an attitude of confidence in regard to the future. This was the key to Paul’s cheerfulness even in the face of the present predicament.

We often talk about the virtue of living in the present, but what do we mean by the present? Is it this year, this week, this day, or this minute? The fact of the matter is that the present is a fleeting split second such that, before we get to think of it or mention it, is already passed into the past. We cannot freeze the present in order to live in it, because the present is always passing us by.

Maybe it is better to think of the present as the meeting point between the past and the future. Then we shall begin to realize that the way to seize the moment and to discover happiness in the present is to cultivate a positive attitude toward the past and toward the future.

Paul’s optimism resonates with St. Ignatius of Loyola’s insight, when he said, “Act as if everything depended on you. Trust as if everything depended on God.” Paul acted in faith, encouraging, teaching, and praying, while trusting entirely in God’s providence. This is the balance Advent calls us to: preparing actively while trusting fully.

Today’s world is filled with its own wilderness, uncertainty, divisions, and challenges. Like Jerusalem in Baruch’s prophecy, we long for restoration and peace. John’s call to prepare the way of the Lord is as urgent as ever. It invites us to clear the obstacles of sin and indifference, making room for God’s grace.

Like Paul, many find themselves in circumstances that seem to contradict joy. How can we be joyful in such moments? By embracing the attitudes Paul exemplified: gratitude for God’s past faithfulness and confidence in His future promises.

To live in the present means to recognize it as the meeting point of God’s past deeds and future promises. Gratitude connects us to the past, anchoring us in the moment, in the memory of God’s goodness. Confidence connects us to the future, trusting that He who began a good work in us will complete it. Together, these attitudes cultivate a joy that transcends circumstances: the joy of the Lord, which is our strength.

As we journey through Advent, let us heed John’s call to prepare the way. This preparation involves repentance, yes, but also active gratitude and hope. Let us, like Paul, find joy in the midst of our wilderness. Let us, like Jerusalem, cast off sorrow and wear the robe of righteousness. And let us, in the spirit of St. Ignatius, act with faith while trusting in God.

As we prepare for Christmas, may we clear the paths of our hearts, so that God’s glory may shine through us, for the God who began a good work in us is faithful and will see it through to completion.

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Active Preparation

First Sunday of Advent
December 1, 2024 — Year C
Readings: Jer 33:14-16 / Ps 25 / 1 Thes 3:12–4:2 / Lk 21:25-28, 34-36
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today is the first Sunday of Advent.  Advent marks the beginning of a new liturgical calendar, a new beginning for us and for the family of the Church.  It is a time of hope, of preparation, and of anticipation of two comings of Christ – His birth in Bethlehem and His glorious return at the end of time.  These weeks before Christmas are rather a spiritual renewal, where we are called to wake up from spiritual complacency and return our hearts to the Lord.  As Pope Saint John Paul II reminds us, “Do not be afraid.  Open wide the doors to Christ.”

The Advent season is a season of hope and courage as we prepare to encounter Christ anew, in our lives, our world, and in eternity.  We do not pretend that Advent is without joy.  On the contrary, it is a season of joyful hope, because it points us to Jesus Christ, the fulfillment of all our longing.  Advent is a season to reorient our lives to this fulfillment, living with the expectation of His presence both now and in the future.

The readings for this first Sunday of Advent invite us to prepare with vigilance, hope, and faith.  From Jeremiah, we hear God’s promise to send a just and righteous savior to lead His people.  Paul encourages the Thessalonians to increase in love and holiness, as they await the coming of the Lord.  In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus warns of cosmic signs and urges us to stay alert and prayerful, so that we may stand firm before Him.

The prophet Jeremiah speaks of God’s promise of a savior who will spring from the line of David.  This righteous branch will establish justice and integrity in the land, fulfilling God’s covenant with His people. In Jeremiah’s time, the people of Judah faced turmoil and exile.  This promise of restoration gave them hope amidst despair.  For us today, it points to the coming of Christ, both in His incarnation and at the end of time.  Christ is the fulfillment of God’s promise, the King of justice and peace, who brings salvation to all who trust in Him.  Jeremiah reminds us that God’s plans never fail.  Advent invites us to anchor our hope in this promise and to live as citizens of His kingdom, marked by justice and righteousness.

In our second reading today, Paul writes to the Thessalonians, urging them to abound in love for one another and to live lives pleasing to God.  He encourages them to prepare for the coming of the Lord by growing in holiness and love.  This reading highlights an important aspect of Advent.  Advent is not just a preparation about waiting, but about action.  Love is at the heart of this preparation.  Paul challenges us to reflect on our relationships with God and with others, and to increase in love and virtue.

In our current world, where individualism often overshadows community, Paul’s words are a powerful reminder of our call to be witnesses of God’s love.  Advent is a time to examine our hearts and align our lives with God’s will, striving for holiness as we await Christ’s return.

In the gospel, Jesus speaks of cosmic signs and the distress of nations as signs of His return.  While the apocalyptic images may evoke fear, Jesus tells us to stand up and raise our heads, because our redemption is drawing near.  This emphasizes vigilance and hope.  The signs of the times are not meant to paralyze us with fear, but to awaken us to the reality of Christ’s kingdom.  Jesus warns against becoming distracted by the anxieties and pleasures of life, urging us instead to stay awake and prayerful.

We can see these signs in the challenges that our world faces:  environmental crises, social unrest, and personal struggles.  Yet, Jesus calls us to hope and persevere.  Advent reminds us to keep our eyes on Christ, the source of our redemption, and to live each day with faith and trust in His promises.

The overall message of today’s readings is the call to anticipation with active preparation.  God’s promises are trustworthy, and we are called to respond by living lives that reflect His kingdom.  Advent is not passive waiting. It is a dynamic journey of hope and renewal.  Advent challenges us to actively prepare for Christ’s coming, not just through external practices, but through an internal transformation.  It is a time to strengthen our faith, deepen our love, and root our hope in the Savior who is both near and yet to come.

As we reflect on these readings, we see how profoundly they speak to our current circumstances.  The world is marked by uncertainty, division, and anxiety.  Whether it be political tensions, climate crisis, or personal struggles, the gospel’s imagery of roaring seas and distressed nations feels strikingly relevant.  But Jesus does not leave us in despair. His words are a beacon: “When these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads, because your redemption is at hand.” (Luke 21:28)

This message of hope reminds us that we are not alone in the storms of life.  God’s promises endure.  Jeremiah’s prophecy of a savior assures us that God remains faithful, even when circumstances seem bleak.  As Catholics, we are called to bring this hope into the world through our actions, reflecting God’s justice, mercy, and love.  Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians offers practical advice for living out this hope: “May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all.”  (1 Thes 3:12)

In a world often characterized by self-interest, Advent challenges us to live counter-culturally, loving and serving others as Christ loves us.  This is the essence of Advent preparation, not just lighting candles or singing hymns, but becoming living witnesses of the Gospel.  Advent is not just a countdown to Christmas. It is a sacred time to renew our hearts and refocus on what truly matters.  It reminds us that Christ’s coming changes everything.  We are called to live in hope and readiness, embracing His light in a world that desperately needs it.

As we light the first candle in our Advent wreath, let it remind us of the light of Christ breaking into darkness.  Let us leave this season with hearts full of hope, ready to welcome the Savior not only in the manger but in our daily lives and at the end of time.  May we, like the vigilant servants in the gospel, stand ready and faithful, with our hearts fixed on the One who is to come.  Let us ask the Lord to awaken our hearts this Advent and help us to prepare with joyful anticipation for His coming.  May His light shine in our lives and through us into the world.

Live With Readiness

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 17, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Dn 12:1-3 / Ps 16 / Heb 10:11-14, 18 / Mk 13:24-32
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today’s readings are filled with powerful imagery and words about the End.  We hear a familiar message running deep in today’s readings: the reality of the End Times and the call to live in hope while awaiting God’s promise fulfillment.

We are approaching the culmination of the liturgical year, and the Church calls us to reflect on the End of Time and history.  On the 24th of November, which is next Sunday, we will be celebrating the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.  This is a reminder that Christ is to reign over all creation.  Soon after this is Advent, which is a time of expectation of Christ’s coming.

In our readings today, the prophet Daniel talks of “a time unsurpassed in distress,” but at the same time, the hope for deliverance of those “written in the book.”  The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us of the uniqueness and completeness of the sacrifice of Christ for salvation and forgiveness, once for all.  In St. Mark’s gospel, Jesus speaks about the sun and the moon being upset and a new world order, ultimately God’s plan.  Let us consider, as we face today’s challenging readings, three messages they offer us:  hope, readiness, and trust in God’s sovereignty.

In the book of Daniel, we hear about a time of suffering; however, it also promises that “the wise shall shine brightly,” and that those who lead others to righteousness are “like the stars forever.”  The merit of hope carries deep conviction in the words that no matter how much chaos exists, the justice and mercy of God will always prevail. As Pope John Paul II said, “Do not abandon yourselves to despair.  We are the Easter people, and Hallelujah is our song.”  This is an invitation for us to have hope, even in the face of adversity or suffering.  This is essential to our faith.  The promise is that, for those who remain faithful, the darkness of distress will give way to the light of God’s presence.  As Easter people, we are called to carry this hope, not only for ourselves but to light the way for others.

The Letter to the Hebrews brings us back to the reminder that through Christ’s one perfect sacrifice, we are forgiven and set free from sin.  Jesus’ sacrifice has already secured our salvation.  This is something in which we should have immense confidence and peace, as we await the culmination of God’s Kingdom.  Although we may not know the day or the hour, we do know God’s plan is one of love, mercy, and salvation.

The world we live in today is usually distinguished by political, environmental, and social confusion.  Many are uncertain about, or anxious for, their future.  Yet today, we are called upon to put our trust in God’s sovereignty.  As Pope John Paul II said, “Have no fear of moving into the unknown.  Simply step out fearlessly, knowing that I am with you.  Therefore, no harm can befall you.  All is very, very well.  Do this in complete faith and confidence.”

In the gospel reading from Mark, we hear Jesus speak of signs in the heavens, and He assures His disciples that His words will not pass away.  This can seem unsettling, yet Jesus intends to wake us up from complacency, reminding us to be vigilant and ready for His return.

In the next few weeks, we will start Advent.  Advent is a season of preparation, not only for the celebration of Christ’s birth, but also for His Second Coming. The season reminds us to live in readiness with hearts open to God’s grace.

C.S. Lewis, in his book, The World’s Last Night and Other Essays, says, “Precisely because we can’t predict the moment, we must be ready at all moments.” No one actually knows the day or the hour except God. The quote from C. S. Lewis captures the essence of Christ’s call to readiness, urging us to live faithfully every day knowing that Christ’s return will come unexpectedly.  This thought encourages us to view each day as an opportunity to prepare our hearts for the fullness of God’s kingdom.

It is so easy to focus on the temporary: our daily routines, our immediate goals, the here and now.  But these readings challenge us to live our days, every day, asking ourselves if we are spiritually prepared for Christ’s coming.  Are we aligning our lives with His teachings, living every day as if it may be our last?  God invites us to re-center our lives on Him, to live each day with purpose, and to nurture a readiness that is grounded in trust and faith.

Sometimes we ask ourselves:  Will I see the end of this world?  It would be rather interesting if that happens.  Yet, our readings today do not give us the answer to that question.  They do tell us, however, what the end will be like, even though we may not live to see it.  They tell us that many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awaken.  Some shall live forever, and others will be condemned and cast into everlasting horror and eternal disgrace.

We should not fear the End of Times.  The important thing for us to remember is that God is our Father, and that Jesus, His Son, came to save us.  This is a reality that no one should be able to hide from us.  Each human being, while he or she is here on earth, should try to be more perfect every day.  This earthly life is a preparation for the kingdom that God has prepared for us.  We should ask to see God, to see His face, and for Him to show us His glory.  This is the destiny that God wants for you and that He wants for me.  That is why He has given us the Holy Spirit, so that we can actually one day see Him.  I hope that day comes for all of us.

Today’s readings remind us of the certainty of Christ’s victory over darkness, sin, and death.  The End Times Jesus speaks of should not fill us with fear, but rather a sense of anticipation and purpose.  We are called to live in the light of the Resurrection, and to share this hope with a world often overshadowed by despair.  As we move closer to the Solemnity of Christ the King, let us see Jesus as our king, not only in words, but in the way we live our lives.  His kingdom is one of truth, mercy, and justice, and by following His ways, we prepare our hearts for Advent and His eventual return.  Let us hold onto hope, live with readiness, and trust deeply in God’s sovereignty.  In doing so, we will stand ready, as people of the promise, confident in God’s enduring love and mercy.

As we await the great day of the Lord, let us remember Pope John Paul II’s words, “We are not the sum of our weaknesses and failures; we are the sum of our Father’s love for us.”  With that truth, we can face any future, whether in this world or the next.  May we live this hope, confident in Christ’s promise, as we journey together toward the coming of the Advent season, and prepare our hearts for the coming of our Savior.

Giving From the Heart

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 10, 2024 — Year B
Readings: 1 Kgs 17:10-16 / Ps 146 / Heb 9:24-28 / Mk 12:38-44
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Our readings today call every one of us to think about and reflect on genuine generosity, trust, and humility.  The Church shows us that authentic giving is not a matter of abundance and high status, but a heart surrendered to God.  The poor widow in the first reading, the teachings from the letter to the Hebrews, and the praise of Jesus towards the widow’s action in the gospel, encourage us to ask ourselves about the meaning of true and genuine giving from the heart.

In today’s first reading, we have the story of the widow from Zarephath, a woman who humanly speaking, literally has almost nothing in this world.  Then she receives a visit from the prophet Elijah.  She is in the process of gathering her last bit of food to eat with her son, when Elijah approaches her and asks for some food.  This becomes a response of faith and obedience on her part, whereby God proceeds to bless her with an inexhaustible fountain of flour and oil.  She shows trust.  This act of kindness surely will bring even greater blessings, and so it does.

Most of the time we find ourselves in the same situation as the widow of Zarephath.  We often think that we only have enough for ourselves.  This could be true in our human world, as most of our priorities revolve around jobs, seeking wealth, entertainment, or leisure activities.  Elijah shows us a different picture.  The first thing in our lives must be faithfulness to God.  We might say, “No.  I must be busy with other things like feeding my family, educating my children, and allowing time for pleasurable activities.”  Elijah might agree with us but would probably begin the conversation by saying that those activities are fine and should be part of our lives, but first we should make our God “a little cake” and bring it to Him.

Paul’s letter to the Hebrews reminds us of the ultimate sacrifice of Christ, who gave not only from His earthly life, but also from His very being.  Christ’s offering was perfect and complete in that He did not stop at public display of duty but showed selflessness rooted in love.  This text points to the deepest part of generosity wherein heart and soul are fully committed toward service to others.

Finally, in the gospel, Jesus contrasts the conduct of the scribes with that of the poor widow who, without any show, drops two copper coins in the temple treasury.  The rich are giving out of their plenty, but this woman gives all she has for her livelihood.  Jesus sees her act as a profound witness of faith and love, not because of the amount she gives, but because of the heart with which it is given.  The poor widow received the praise of Jesus because she put in her last money, though she was poor.  As Jesus said, she gave all she had to live on.  The message of Jesus is very clear.  Every person is capable of sharing, no matter how poor or needy he or she is.

Some people give because they want something in return.  Jesus tells us today that genuine giving must be sincere.  It must come from the heart.  If we expect something in return, it is no longer considered giving, but rather a transaction.  If we think of helping a person now, while in the future expect that person to return the favor, it is not helping or giving, but rather a debt.  The real value of giving is not measured by the amount given.  If this is the case, then everyone can afford to do this.  But real giving is the generous giving of oneself, a sort of sacrifice on the part of the giver.

The readings today share a common message of sacrificial giving and trust in God.  It is a trust by which our authenticity leads to generosity.  We give, not from our surplus, but from the sincerity of our hearts.  In fact, Saint Ignatius of Loyola once said that love is shown more in deeds than in words.  Deeply inherent in today’s readings, each character shows faith and love in their actions, not merely with words.

Sacrificial giving generally runs counter to the culture of material wealth, social status, and appearance in this world.  The accumulation and guarding of resources are usually rewarded by society, while true acts of love and trust are mostly ignored.  This gospel reminds us, however, that God sees and values those acts of the heart.  The widow’s offering, indeed, had a small monetary value but was great in its spiritual value.

We are called beyond surface level generosity into the understanding of what it means to give in a way honoring God.  In financial resources, time, or love, each one of us has something we can give, even if it feels small or insignificant.  As we look at these examples of trust and selflessness, our own lives have to be considered.  Is our giving sacrificial, or do we simply give when it’s convenient?  Do we give only when it is easy, or are we willing to give when it requires faith?

Such trust and sacrificial giving are exemplified in the life of Saint Teresa of Calcutta, who is known for her service to the poorest of the poor.  Perhaps the following story about her is most fitting in reflecting on today’s gospel message. The story goes that one day, a woman came to her with a small bundle of rice, her only food for the day, and offered it to help the needy.  Mother Teresa was deeply moved, seeing in this woman’s gift the same spirit as the gospel’s widow: to give, not from her abundance, but from her very sustenance.  As Mother Teresa once said, it is not how much we give that is important, but how much love we put into giving.  Like the widow in today’s gospel, so too, this woman’s offering in material terms was trifling, but was great in faith and love.  Mother Teresa knew that it was in such little offerings of self that God’s love is most deeply revealed.  She often exhorted her sisters to give until it hurts, not because pain is the end, but because true giving often requires a willingness to go beyond what is comfortable or convenient.

As we continue to reflect today, we are called to consider our own generosity.  Are we like the wealthy in the gospel who give only what doesn’t disrupt their comfort?  Or is there courage deep within us to give in ways that require trust in God’s provision for us?  Today’s message is not only about money, but about all kinds of giving:  the giving of our time, attention, and kindness.  In this busy world, sometimes the best thing we can give is the gift of our presence.  Like the insignificant two coins of the widow, time spent comforting a friend or helping a stranger may be unimportant, but for God these are priceless.

Let us pray that we may obtain a heart similar to that of the widow, to trust, to give liberally no matter how humble our offerings may seem.  Let this example teach us that acts of love serve to display God to the world.  May the teaching of Saint Ignatius be remembered, to manifest our love by deeds rather than words.

Bearers of God’s Kingdom

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
July 14, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Am 7:12-15 / Ps 85 / Eph 1:3-14 / Mk 6:7-13
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

In today’s readings, we encounter themes of divine calling, mission, and the power of God’s grace working through us.  Each passage invites us to reflect on how we are called and sent forth as disciples in the modern world.

The prophet Amos is confronted by the priest of Bethel, who tells him to stop prophesying in Israel and to go back to Judah.  Amos responds by affirming that he did not choose this path for himself but was called by God.

“I was no prophet, nor a prophet’s son, but I was a herdsman, a dresser of sycamore trees.  And the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me ‘Go.  Prophesy to my people of Israel.’”

This passage reminds us that God calls ordinary people to do extraordinary things.  Saint Therese of Lisieux summarized this beautifully when she said, “The Lord needs from us neither great deeds nor profound thoughts, neither intelligence nor talents.  He cherishes simplicity.”  Amos’s call from a humble background reflects the simplicity and obedience that God cherishes.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes about our spiritual blessings in Christ, emphasizing that God chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless in love.  He speaks of our adoption as God’s children through Jesus Christ, the redemption through His blood, and the inheritance we have obtained.  Paul highlights the mystery of God’s will, revealed in Christ, and the sealing of believers with the Holy Spirit as a guarantee of our inheritance.

In today’s gospel, we read about Jesus sending out the twelve apostles, two by two, giving them authority over unclean spirits, and instructing them to take nothing for their journey except a staff: no bread, no bag, no money in their belts.  They were to wear sandals and not put on two tunics.  He also told them, “Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave that place.  If any place will not welcome you, and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”  The apostles went out and told the people they should repent. They cast out many demons, anointed with oil many who were sick, and cured them.

Jesus’ instructions to the apostles are strikingly simple and direct.  He emphasizes the need for trust in God’s providence and the importance of humility and detachment from material possessions.  The mission of the apostles was to proclaim the Kingdom of God, call for repentance, and bring healing, both physical and spiritual.

The theme of trust and reliance on God is a timeless message that resonates deeply in our contemporary world, where self-reliance and material security are often prioritized.  This gospel passage challenges us to reflect on our own dependencies and consider how we might deepen our trust in God’s providence.  In a world where success is often measured by wealth, power, and self-sufficiency, the gospel invites us to reassess our priorities.  How often do we rely on our resources, rather than on God’s guidance?  The call to take nothing for the journey is a powerful reminder that our true security lies in God alone.

Moreover, the mission of the apostles to bring healing and proclaim repentance is as relevant today as it was in Jesus’ time.  We are surrounded by spiritual and physical suffering, and the need for repentance and transformation is ever present.  By living out our faith through acts of love, service, and healing, we become instruments of God’s grace in the world.

There are four things that Jesus reminds us of today.

First:  Trust in God’s providence.  Just as the apostles were called to trust in God’s provision, we, too, are invited to place our trust in Him, especially in uncertain times. This trust can manifest in various ways, such as relying on God’s guidance in making decisions or believing that He will provide for our needs when we are in distress.

Second:  Simplicity and detachment.  The apostles’ journey with only a staff calls us to reflect on our own attachment to material possessions.  In a society driven by consumerism, this message encourages us to find contentment in simplicity and to prioritize spiritual wealth over material wealth.

Third:  Community and hospitality.  Jesus instructs the apostles to depend on the hospitality of others, highlighting the importance of community.  In a more modern context, we are reminded to be open to giving and receiving help within our communities. This fosters a spirit of solidarity and mutual support, which is vital in a world where many feel isolated and disconnected.

Fourth:  Mission and weakness.  The apostles were sent out to preach repentance, cast out demons, and heal the sick.  We are called to continue this mission by being witnesses of Christ’s love and mercy in our daily lives.  Whether through acts of kindness, advocating for justice, or sharing our faith, we participate in God’s mission to bring hope and healing to the world.

In embracing these lessons, we echo the words of St. Francis of Assisi: “Start by doing what is necessary, then do what is possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible.”  By responding to God’s call with trust, simplicity, and a commitment to community, we become instruments of His grace, capable of transforming the world around us.  As we reflect on these readings, let us be inspired by the faith and trust of Amos, the assurance of our blessings in Ephesians, and the mission of the apostles.  May we, too, become bearers of God’s kingdom in our world today.