Neither Jew nor Gentile… all One in Christ Jesus Ex 17:3-7; Rom 5:1-2,5-8; Jn 4:5-42 (Lent A /3)

 

Neither Jew nor Gentile… all One in Christ Jesus

 

Ex 17:3-7; Rom 5:1-2,5-8; Jn 4:5-42 (Lent A /3)

 

“Do justice for the weak and the orphan, defend the afflicted and the needy”.

 

On this Sunday and the next two Sundays, we break from reading the Gospel of Matthew to read from John’s Gospel. The Gospel of John is the only Gospel not assigned to a particular liturgical year. Instead, readings from John’s Gospel are interspersed throughout our three-year liturgical cycle. The dialogue between Jesus and the Samaritan woman in today’s Gospel reveals the animosity between the Jews and the Samaritans that has prevented even dialogue. The woman herself alludes to the break from tradition: “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” Yet Jesus not only converses with the woman, but he also asks to share her drinking vessel, an action that makes him unclean according to Jewish law.

 

The Second Vatican Council’s pastoral constitution “Gaudium et Spes” on the Church in the Modern World says that the tensions disturbing the world of today are in fact related to a more fundamental tension rooted in the human heart. Within oneself, many elements conflict with one another in various kinds of discrimination. On one side, one has experience of one's own many limitations as a creature. On the other hand, one knows there is no limit to aspirations and that one is called to a higher kind of life. What is more, in weakness and sinfulness, one often does what one does not want to do and fails to do what one would like to do. Consequently, we suffer from a conflict within ourselves, and this in turn gives rise to many great tensions in society.

 

Humans or any creature come from dust and return to dust. What does anyone carry with them after death? So, the “Gaudium et Spes” calls us to reflect upon – What is man? What is the meaning of pain, of evil, of death, which persist despite such great progress? What is the use of those successes, achieved at such a cost? What can man contribute to society, what can he expect from society? What will happen after this life on earth? The high point of the dialogue of the woman at the well is a call to live only in the Messiah. Worship him in truth and spirit, shunning all the barriers and boundaries that history created in the world.

 

The significance of the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman has various levels. The first is personal. As the woman converted herself to belief in Jesus, we are called to convert in the word of Jesus. The second is social. As she became an evangelist to her own people in the town, we are called to evangelize the evangelized. The third level is educational. Jesus uses his encounter with the Samaritan woman to teach his disciples that God’s mercy is without limit. He does not calculate our barriers to receive his mercy. Finally, the conversion of the Samaritan townspeople is a foretaste of the kind of open community that will be created in a world that only believes Jesus is the unifier.

 

“Rescue the weak and the poor; set them free from the hand of the wicked”.

Transformed to Transform the Journey Gen 12:1-4a; 2 Tim 1:8b-10; Mt 17:1-9 (A – Lent 2)

 

Transformed to Transform the Journey

 

Gen 12:1-4a; 2 Tim 1:8b-10; Mt 17:1-9 (A – Lent 2)

“The Lord went before them in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way”

 

On this Second Sunday of Lent, the Church leads us to the mountain of the Transfiguration, narrated in the Synoptic Gospels. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain, and there his face shines with divine glory. The Father’s voice: “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” is heard. This mystery speaks to us today in four important ways.

 

First, the Transfiguration reveals who Jesus truly is. He is not only a teacher or prophet — He is the beloved Son of God. Moses and Elijah appear beside him, showing that Jesus fulfills the Law and the Prophets. And this revelation comes just before his suffering. The message is clear: glory comes through the Cross. Lent reminds us that God reveals his power not in worldly success but in sacrifice, obedience, and love. Second, the Transfiguration calls us to personal transformation. The Lent asks: Are you being transformed? The Father says, “Listen to Him.” To listen to Christ means changing our lives — turning away from sin, forgiving others, practicing charity, living in justice, and reflecting Christ’s light in our daily actions. True faith must be seen in how we live.

 

Third, this event shows us the life of the Church. Jesus takes the disciples together up the mountain. Faith is not lived alone. We encounter Christ together in the Church — in the Word of God, in the Eucharist, in prayer, and in our parish community. But like the disciples, we cannot remain on the mountain. We return to the world strengthened to serve, to love, and to carry Christ’s light into society. Finally, the Transfiguration teaches us our destiny. It reveals what God desires for every human person — transformation and participation in divine glory.

 

Christ shows us our future: that those who follow him faithfully will share in his glory. Lent is therefore a time of formation, strengthening our faith, renewing our hope, and deepening our relationship with God. As we continue this Lenten journey, let us climb the mountain of holiness through prayer, encounter Christ in the Church, live transformed lives, and walk faithfully toward the glory God has prepared for us.

 

“Judah became the Lord’s temple, Israel became his kingdom”.

Fight the Good Fight of Faith Gen 2:7-9, 3:1-7; Rom 5:12-19; Mt 4:1-11 (A - Lent 1)

 

Fight the Good Fight of Faith

Gen 2:7-9, 3:1-7; Rom 5:12-19; Mt 4:1-11 (A - Lent 1)

 

“In Christ we suffered temptation, and in him we overcame the Devil” (Divine Office)

 

 

A reflective way of looking at life is to see it as a struggle between sin and grace, selfishness and holiness. Today’s Scripture readings show two contrasting reactions to temptation. The first parents, Adam and Eve, preferred their own inclinations to the will of God (Gen 2:16-17; 3:1-6). Secondly, on several occasions, God tested Abraham to prove his faith and strengthen his hope in the promises made to him. He obeyed willingly when God asked him to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, the son of promise. When the Israelites were sorely tested in Egypt for more than 400 years of hard labor and persecution, they did not forget him. They kept God’s word and remembered his promise, leading them into the promised homeland.

 

Jesus was no exception to this pattern of testing and preparation for the mission his Father gave him. He resisted temptation, remaining faithful to God’s will. He was led into the wilderness for 40 days without food and little shelter. He had nothing to sustain himself in that barren wilderness except his forty days of prayer and fasting. Jesus was left alone in that harsh environment to wrestle with the temptation to seek pain and hardship, humiliation and rejection, suffering and death on a cross. Temptation, in one form or another, is an unavoidable part of life. If we honestly examine our daily experience, we can find many aspects of temptation: impulses or tendencies counter to the right way of doing things. If we rationalize these temptations, they will become socially acceptable and politically correct, and that would itself become an insidious temptation.

 

The Scripture calls the tempter by many names: the devil and Satan (Rev 12:9), Beelzebul, the prince of demons (Lk 11:15, Mt 12:24), the evil one (Mt 13:38), and the father of lies (Jn 8:44). Where did Jesus find the strength to survive the tempter’s seduction? He fed himself on God’s word and found strength in doing his Father’s will.

 

How can we overcome sin and gain freedom over our unruly desires and the lies of Satan and the world? The Lord Jesus gives us his Spirit to help us in our weakness (Rom 8:26) and to be our guide and consoler in temptation and test (1 Cor 10:13). He gives grace to the humble who acknowledge their dependence on him (Js 4:6) and helps to stand against the lies and attacks of our enemy, Satan, who seeks to destroy us (1 Pt 5:8-10; Eph 6:10-18). He wants us to “fight the good fight of faith” (1 Tim 6:12) with the power and strength that comes from the Holy Spirit. Do we rely on the Lord for our strength and victory in this Lent?

 

 

“…if he were not tempted, he could not teach you how to triumph over temptation” (Divine Office)

 

Inseparable Diamonds in Lent Joel 2:12–18; 2 Cor 5:20–6:2; Mt 6:1–6,16–18 (A)

Inseparable Diamonds in Lent

Joel 2:12–18; 2 Cor 5:20–6:2;  Mt 6:1–6,16–18 (A)

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,”

Ashes do not decorate us. They unmask us. They tell the truth about who we are – fragile, dependent, and in need of mercy. But are we hungry for God, and do you thirst for his holiness? God wants to set our hearts ablaze with the fire of his Holy Spirit that we may share in his holiness and radiate the joy of the Gospel to those around us. St. Augustine of Hippo tells us that there are two kinds of people and two kinds of love: “One is holy, the other is selfish. One is subject to God; the other endeavors to equal Him”. We are what we love. God wants to free our hearts from all that would keep us captive to selfishness and sin. “Rend your hearts and not your garments,’ says the prophet Joel (Joel 2:12). The Holy Spirit is ever ready to transform our hearts and to lead us further in God’s way of truth and holiness.

The forty days of Lent is the annual retreat of the people of God in imitation of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness. Forty is a significant number in the Scriptures. Moses went to the mountain to seek the face of God for forty days in prayer and fasting (Ex 24:18). The people of Israel were in the wilderness for forty years in preparation for their entry into the promised land. Elijah fasted for forty days as he journeyed in the wilderness to the mountain of God (1 Kgs 19:8). We are called to journey with the Lord in a special season of prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and penitence (expressing true sorrow for sin and wrongdoing) as we prepare to celebrate the feast of Easter, the Christian Passover of Jesus’ victory over sin, Satan, and death.

Ash Wednesday is not primarily no only about sin. It is about reconciliation. The Church teaches that Lent is a privileged time of grace, a season given not to shame us, but to save us. The ashes remind us of death, but they are traced in the shape of the Cross—because death does not have the final word. Even our repentance is embraced by mercy. Repentance is a spiritual medicine. St Augustine says that fasting humbles the body so that the soul may rise toward God. In the same way, St John Chrysostom warns that fasting without mercy becomes empty, meaning the fast God desires is one that breaks the chains of injustice.

Ash Wednesday confronts us with a question: “Will Lent change only our schedule or our lives? Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving were inseparable: prayer opens us to God, fasting frees us from selfishness, and almsgiving restores communion with others. Prayer calls us to reorder our priorities. Fasting challenges our attachments and excess. Almsgiving demands concrete love for the poor, the lonely, and the forgotten. These are not private devotions alone; they shape how we live, forgive, and love. As we receive these ashes, let us ask for the grace of a true return—a heart made new, a faith made real, and a love made visible. May this holy season lead us from ashes to life, from repentance to renewal, and from the Cross to Resurrection.

 

“Now is the acceptable time; now is the day of salvation.”

Where Christ Dwells, the Law Becomes Love Sir 15:15–20; 1 Cor 2:6–10; Mt 5:17–37 (A 6)

 

Where Christ Dwells, the Law Becomes Love

 

Sir 15:15–20; 1 Cor 2:6–10; Mt 5:17–37 (A 6)

God saw all he had made, and indeed it was very good. Alleluia.

 

Matthew continues the Sermon on the Mount with a three-part instruction by Jesus on the Way of Life in the kingdom of heaven. Today’s reading presents three parts. The first part deals with the Torah. Part two deals with worship and religious practices and contains the Lord’s Prayer; part three deals with trusting God and deeds of loving service to neighbor. Jesus uses words that strike at the very heart of Christian discipleship: “I have come not to abolish the law, but to fulfill” (Mt 5:17). He affirms that God’s commandments are not cancelled, but fulfilled in him.

 

Jesus commands not to kill, not to commit adultery, and not to swear falsely. He goes beyond the action to the intention. He says that anger insults, and contempt wounds life. Lustful looks betray the covenant of love: careless words and oaths fracture truth. Jesus is not making life harder. He is revealing the truth. Sin begins in the heart before it appears in behavior. Jesus does not forbid anger in every form, but it leads to contempt and destruction of communion. He calls his disciples to a higher standard, not because they are stronger, but because they are called to be holy.  Jesus takes well-known commandments and leads us deeper. He shows that sin does not begin in the hand, but in the heart; not in the act, but in the intention. St John Chrysostom explains that Christ “leads the commandment beyond the letter and brings it to the soul itself.” In the same way, murder begins with anger; adultery begins with a look that reduces the other to an object; falsehood begins with a divided heart.

 

This demanding teaching is a healing. Jesus is not accusing. He is diagnosing the human heart. Reconciliation becomes a moral obligation. Before worship and prayer, the disciple must seek peace. This is a radical ethical demand even today, in a world marked by resentment, division, and unresolved conflict. In matters of purity, Jesus challenges a culture that objectifies the human person. The Church, following this Gospel, teaches that chastity is not repression but reverence for the other’s dignity. Where Christ dwells, the law becomes love, and love becomes freedom. As we come to the altar, let us ask for hearts purified, relationships healed, and lives marked by truth. Then the law will no longer stand over us—but live within us.

 

This Gospel invites us to examine our inner world. Jesus is not condemning us; He is calling us deeper. He desires hearts that are undivided, healed, and free. As we receive the Eucharist, we receive the One who lived this Gospel completely. May he reshape our hearts, purify our intentions, and make our lives a living witness to the Kingdom of God.

 

 

“For what you could not take at one time because of your weakness, you will be able to grasp at another if you only persevere”.

Called to Bring Justice Is 58:7-10; 1 Cor 2:1-5; Mt5:13-16 (A 5)

 

Called to Bring Justice

 

Is 58:7-10; 1 Cor 2:1-5; Mt5:13-16 (A 5)

“The cross of the Lord has become the tree of life for us.”

 

Around the same time that Isaiah was reviving a living faith among the people in Jerusalem (c. 742 B.C.), his contemporary up in northern Israel, the prophet Amos (c. 760–755 B.C.), was expressing his fierce indignation about the plight of the poor and needy, who were being denied justice in the courts (Am 5:7-15) and whose goods were confiscated (5:11). In his turn, Isaiah also makes an impassioned cry for social justice. His sense of fairness and sharing comes from his deep sense that God’s creativity and glory fill the whole earth (Is 6:3). The divine presence fills not only the temple but the whole of creation. Both focused on the exploitation of the poor, moral corruption, and the inevitability of divine judgment.  Yahweh desires all people to make justice flourish on the earth.

 

Following the teaching of the Beatitudes, Jesus uses the familiar metaphors of salt and light in today’s Gospel reading to describe the life of discipleship. We seem to take salt and light for granted in today’s society, but these commodities were more precious in ancient cultures. Salt is used for flavoring, as a preservative, and as a healing agent. The salt cannot be seen but can be perceived and relished. There are many people who “can hardly be perceived”, as they are like “little ants” working hard and doing good all the time. Some of them are “brought into the limelight on top of a mountain” or on a “lamp stand” (Mt 5:14-15), toiling to bring about justice to the deserving.

 

We are all called to be salt and light. It is said that once, while he was playing, someone asked St. Aloysius Gonzaga what he would do if he knew that within a few minutes he would be dying. “I would keep on playing”, he answered. He would go on carrying out his normal life. Our commitment to social justice flows from the exhortation that Jesus gives us in today’s Gospel. Some of the activities that this commitment leads us to are given more concrete expression as the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. When we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, console those who mourn, and so on, we show ourselves to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. When we do these things with the community of faith, the Church, we are indeed acting as “a city set on a mountain” that cannot be hidden!

 

Pope Francis called on Catholics to “go out to the margins.” He preferred a church that is “bruised and dirty because it has been out on the streets” to one that is “clinging to its own security, caught up in a web of procedures.” We can’t hunker down in our structures with passive hope. The Gospel invites us to run the risk of meeting others in need. It wants to promote a culture of encounter, because what our Church needs today is to heal wounds and to warm hearts.

 

“Let the word of Christ dwell with you in all its richness”.

Blessed to Fight Fear with Faith : Jeph 2:3; 3:12-13; 1 Cor 1:26-31; Mt 5:1-12 (A 4)

 

 Blessed to Fight Fear with Faith

 

“Who shall climb the mountain of the Lord? Who shall stand in his holy place?” 

Jeph 2:3; 3:12-13; 1 Cor 1:26-31; Mt 5:1-12 (A 4)

 

The Sermon on the Mount may be regarded as the central point of Christ’s ministry in Galilee. It was delivered during the first year of his public career, sometime between the winter and the spring, according to the scholars. At the very beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, on a mountainside overlooking ordinary people with ordinary struggles, Jesus opens his mouth and speaks words that still shock the world: “Blessed are the poor in spirit…” These are not rules or moral slogans but a portrait of the Kingdom of God. Not only in Jesus’ time, but even today, society glorifies success, dominance, and protecting oneself at all costs and calls it “Blessed”. But Jesus turns that logic upside down.

 

It calls for the journey of Discipleship in the footsteps of Jesus himself. There is an inner movement of each Beatitude. The poor in spirit recognize dependence on God. Those who mourn, mourn over sin, injustice, and brokenness. The meek find strength under God’s control. Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness long for a deep desire for holiness. The merciful love as they have been loved. The pure of heart is an undivided heart. Peacemakers reflect the heart of the Father. The persecuted will be ever faithful even when it costs. This is not a random list. It is the path of Christ himself. The Cross is hidden in all of the Beatitudes.

 

“Blessed” means more than “Happy”. The term Matthew uses Greek word “Makarios” for “Blessed,” does not mean temporary happiness, but rather deep and unshakable joy rooted in God. It survives suffering, endures rejection, and grows even in persecution. That is why Jesus dares to say: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” The Beatitudes today are a call and not a comforting zone. It challenges us to be poor in spirit in a culture of pride. Challenges us to learn to mourn in a culture of indifference. It encourages us to choose meekness in a culture of aggression. It urges us to have hunger for righteousness in a culture of compromise. It empowers us to be merciful in a culture of revenge. It demands that we seek purity in a culture of divided hearts. It forces us to be peacemakers in a culture of division. It strengthens us to stand firm in a culture hostile to faith. The Beatitudes only make sense when seen through the Cross and Resurrection.

 

Every time we choose humility over pride, mercy over judgment, faithfulness over comfort, we make the Kingdom of God visible. The Beatitudes are meant to be lived here and now, in the concrete realities of society. In today’s polarized world—political, racial, ideological—the Church calls us not to inflame divisions but to heal them, becoming instruments of Christ’s peace. In a secular age where faith is mocked or marginalized, these Beatitudes strengthen us to stand firm—not with bitterness, but with hope. If we live the Beatitudes, the world may not always applaud us—but it will recognize Christ in us.

 

“A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps 51:17).

Called to be Fishers of Men Is 8:23-9:3; 1 Cor 1:10-13, 17; Mt 4:12-23 (A 3)

 

Called to be Fishers of Men

 

Is 8:23-9:3; 1 Cor 1:10-13, 17; Mt 4:12-23 (A 3)

 

“…every liturgical celebration, as an activity of Christ the priest and of his body, which is the Church” (Sacrosanctum Concilium)

 

Once, Aeschines came to Socrates and said, “I am a poor man. I have nothing else, but I give myself”. Socrates answered, “Do you not see that you are giving me the most precious thing of all?” Jesus called fishermen with no great background to make the fishers of men. What Jesus needs is ordinary people who will give themselves to him. In the past, the concept of “vocation” addressed priests and religious. However, it has now been restored to every baptized. God has chosen each of us: “I have called you by name; you are mine” (Is 43: 1); “You didn’t choose me; no, I chose you, and I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that would remain” (Jn 15:16).  Through today’s Gospel, we are being called again to be fishers of men.

 

A good fisherman must have (i) patience until the fish takes the bait. If he is restless, never make him a fisherman. (ii) He must have perseverance to try again and again without being discouraged when nothing seems to happen. (iii) The fisherman must have the courage to face any danger in telling people the truth. (iv) The fisherman must have an eye for the right moment to speak and a time to be silent, waiting for the fish to bite. (v) The wise fisherman must keep himself out of sight. If he obtrudes his own presence, even his own shadow, the fish will certainly not bite. Finally, the fisherman for Christ will always seek to present people, not with himself, but with Jesus Christ. He aims to fix men’s eyes not on himself, but only on Christ. Every baptized Christian becomes a fisher of men for Christ.

 

The world is beautiful for those who are in the light of Baptism. The world is horrible for those who are in darkness without the light of Jesus.  We are in the light. We need to bring this light to others. Like Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John, we are called to let people know about Jesus Christ, who is alive and active in the world (Mt 18:20).  We are to let them know that he loves and calls them to come into the Light. Jesus Christ is not only for us.  We have not been called to embrace selfish motives with the Lord but rather to use our own unique talents to bring others to Christ. Pope Francis said, “Put out into deep water and let down your nets for a catch. You, too, are called to become ‘fishers of men’. Don’t hesitate to spend your life witnessing joyfully to the Gospel, especially among your peers.”

 

 

“In the liturgy on earth we are given a foretaste and share in the liturgy of heaven…” (Sacrosanctum Concilium)

 

 

 

Behold! the Lamb of God Is 49:3, 5-6; 1 Cor 1:1-3; Jn 1:29-34 (A/2)

 

Behold! the Lamb of God

 

Is 49:3, 5-6; 1 Cor 1:1-3; Jn 1:29-34 (A/2)

 

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Alleluia (Divine Office)

 

After the joy and intensity of Christmas and the Baptism of the Lord, the Church now leads us into Ordinary Time. Ordinary does not mean unimportant, but ordered time in which faith is meant to grow quietly, steadily, and faithfully. And today, at the very beginning of this season, the Church places before us the proclamation of John the Baptist at the Jordan, not drawing attention to himself, not claiming authority, not offering explanations. He says, “Behold!” John calls Jesus the Lamb of God. It reminded them of the Passover lamb whose blood saved Israel from death (Ex 12). It echoed the words of the prophet Isaiah, who spoke of the suffering servant being led like a lamb to the slaughter (53:7). John is telling that Jesus is the one sent by God to deal with sin at its very root.

 

And notice something important: John says, “I did not know him.” This is not ignorance. It is humility. John teaches us that faith does not come from human certainty alone. Jesus is recognized not by status, not by power, but by the movement of the Spirit. The same Spirit who descended upon Jesus is the Spirit who opens our eyes to recognize him today. Do we recognize the Lamb of God when he comes to us? We often look for God in strength, success, and certainty. But God comes as a Lamb—gentle, humble, vulnerable. Many missed him then, and many miss him now, because he does not meet our expectations. Yet John tells us clearly: this Lamb takes away the sin of the world. Not just individual faults, but the deep brokenness that separates humanity from God. This is why Jesus is more than a teacher or moral example. He is the Redeemer. He existed before John. He is filled with the Spirit. He does not simply cleanse with water but baptizes with the Holy Spirit. He brings new life, not only from the outside, but also from within.

 

John the Baptist does not compete with Jesus, but gives witness that says, “He must increase; I must decrease.” In a world that encourages self-promotion, John teaches self-giving. In a culture of noise and attention-seeking, he teaches us how to point quietly but clearly to Christ. True discipleship is not about making ourselves known—it is about making Christ visible. If Jesus takes away the sin of the world, then those who belong to him must live differently. Otherwise, we cannot receive the Lamb and continue to live in bitterness, injustice, dishonesty, or indifference. To follow the Lamb means choosing mercy over judgment, humility over pride, service over power, and forgiveness over revenge. Every time we come to Mass, we hear the priest repeat John’s words: “Behold the Lamb of God.” But the question remains: do we truly behold him—or have these words become routine? Do we recognize him in the Eucharist? In the wounded? In the quiet moments of daily life? As we begin Ordinary Time, the Lord invites us to ordinary faithfulness—to live that quietly but clearly point to him. May our words, our choices, and our love say to the world what John once said at the Jordan: “This is the Son of God.”

 

Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit, in the bond of peace (Divine Office)

“Christ Was Baptized to Cleanse the Waters” Is 42:1-4, 6-7; Acts 10:34-38; Mt 3:13-17 (A)

 

“Christ Was Baptized to Cleanse the Waters”

Is 42:1-4, 6-7; Acts 10:34-38; Mt 3:13-17 (A)

“The voice of the God of majesty resounds on the waters.”

Today we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord, a mystery that reveals not only who Jesus is, but who we are. At the Jordan River, Jesus steps into the waters where sinners are seeking repentance. Yet he is sinless. Scripture tells us he is “like us in all things but sin” (Heb 4:15). So why does he ask to be baptized? The Church answers through the words of St Gregory of Nazianzus, “Christ was baptized, not because he needed to be cleansed, but to cleanse the waters.” Jesus does not go into the Jordan to be purified; He goes in to purify. By his presence, the waters are changed. The Catechism teaches that by descending into the waters, Christ sanctified all waters, so that they might become the source of new life for us in baptism (CCC 536–537).

This means that every baptism—including ours—draws its power from this moment. When water was poured over us, and we were baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit - Christ himself acted—cleansing, healing, and re-creating us. At the Jordan, the heavens open, the Spirit descends, and the Father’s voice is heard: “This is my beloved Son” (Mt 3:17). Here the mystery of the Holy Trinity is revealed. Heaven, once closed by sin, is opened again. As St Gregory says, Christ opens the gates that Adam had closed. The Jordan flows through the wilderness—a place of barrenness and struggle. Yet it is there that light breaks forth. Isaiah’s promise is fulfilled: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Is 9:2). Baptism is this light. The Catechism calls it illumination, because it enlightens the soul (CCC 1216).

But this feast is not only about Christ’s baptism. It is about our baptism today. St Gregory challenges us: “Christ is baptized; let us go down with him, that we may also rise with him.” St Paul tells us that in baptism we die with Christ, so that we may rise with him and walk in newness of life (Rom 6:4). we are not just people who attend church. We are the baptized. We are not meant to live in fear or darkness. We are children of the light. We are not spectators of the Gospel. We  are witnesses. Reject sin where it has quietly returned. Choose the light where compromise has crept in. Speak and act as sons and daughters of God in your homes, workplaces, and communities. When you bless yourself with holy water, remember: These waters were cleansed by Christ for you.

 

“This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased. To him, then, listen”.

The Ever-New Mystery Is 60:1-6; Eph 3:2-3a.5-6; Mt 2:1-12 (A)

 

The Ever-New Mystery

Is 60:1-6; Eph 3:2-3a.5-6; Mt 2:1-12 (A)

The Word of God, born once in the flesh, is always willing to be born spiritually in those who desire him. In them, he is born as an infant as he fashions himself in them by means of their virtues. He reveals himself to the extent that he knows someone is capable of receiving him. He diminishes the revelation of his glory not out of selfishness but because he recognizes the capacity and resources of those who desire to see him. Yet, in the transcendence of mystery, he always remains invisible to all. For this reason, the apostle Paul, reflecting on the power of the mystery, said: “Jesus Christ, yesterday and today: he remains the same forever” (Heb 13:8).

Christ is God, for he had given all things their being out of nothing. Yet he is born as a man by taking to himself our nature, flesh endowed with an intelligent spirit. By becoming one of us, we might expect the Incarnate Word of God to share the same emotions as ourselves, and indeed he did. He shared our experience of distress. He could shed tears at times of loss and crisis. The Gospels speak of how Jesus enjoyed social occasions and was a guest at so many dinners that his critics called him a glutton and a drunkard. He felt a strong empathy for people who suffered, and when they were hungry, he provided the food that they needed.

Like all of us, he needed companionship with others, so on several occasions he took Peter, James, and John into his special confidence. When exhausted, he could fall asleep, even in the stern of a boat being tossed by the wind and waves. He felt intense fear just before his passion, and openly admitted to his followers how troubled he felt in his soul. In his agony, he prayed, “Father, let his cup pass me by” (Mt 26:39). When the Word became flesh, he joined us on so many levels. He dwelt among us, fully, passionately. He didn’t just come to live a quiet life. He “pitched his tent among us” (Jn 1:14) and shared the full range of our human experience to draw us near to God. He spent most of his time among those who needed him most, and they were welcome in his company.

To know the invisible God, we must be with Jesus, think of him often, and identify with him as children of God. The Magi discovered its meaning. And “to those who did accept him, he gave power to become children of God, to those who believed in his name who were born not of human stock or human desire or human will but of God himself” (Jn 1:12-13).

 

Blessed are your eyes, for they see.  Blessed are your ears, for they hear.

Happy New Year 2026

 

The Mother of God and Man

 

This corruptible body must put on an incorruptible body (A)

 

Today, the Church gratefully reflects on the Virgin’s maternity as a model of her own motherhood to all of us. At the Council of Ephesus (451), the mother of Jesus was solemnly proclaimed as Mother of God or Theotokos, acknowledging the Godhead of her Son, Jesus Christ. Under this noble title, she is still honored by most Christians around the world. Benedict XVI said, “Jesus is the Son of God, and at the same time he is the son of a woman, Mary. He comes from her. He is of God and of Mary. She trusted in Providence and was sustained by God’s goodness. Indeed, she stands out among the Lord’s anawim, the humble hearts who confidently trust that God has everything in hand (Lumen Gentium 55). St Augustine writes, “She conceived Jesus in her heart before conceiving him in her womb.”

 

Today’s feast invites us to place our hopes and plans for the new year under her motherly care. We can entrust to her our personal concerns and those of our era, the conflicts, the glaring injustices, the unequal wealth and opportunity, the wars, all that troubles peace and fairness in our world at this time. Our Lady can be our guide and counsellor in our spiritual journey. She wants to beget faith in us, to be our Mother. That is why, in the gospel of John, she is present at the beginning and the end of Christ’s public life.

 

John is the only one to record Mary’s presence at Calvary: “Near the cross of Jesus stood his Mother” (Jn 19:25). When all the miracles of Jesus seemed a delusion to many, his mother stood there faithful to him to his last breath, still believing in God’s power to save. Her faith did not need astounding miracles, but rested on childlike trust in the mysterious ways of God our Father. As John writes, “Behold your Mother” (Jn 19:25), the mother of Jesus will henceforth be the mother of all his disciples, sharing with us her strong and simple faith. She reflected upon, “He is destined for the fall and for the rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign that is rejected” (Lk 2:34)  

 

She treasured and pondered what the shepherds said to her, “Today a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” Today, New Year’s Day, is a day when many feel drawn to make good resolutions. What better New Year’s resolution could we make today than that of adopting Mary’s stance before the grace of God? Today’s feast invites us to share in Mary’s sense of awe and wonder before God’s merciful love, made known to us in Christ, her son. Let us ask Mary to help us treasure the gospel as she did, so that Christ might come to others through us as he came to us through Mary.

 

“All men will be called her children: the Most High himself has established her”

The Example of Nazareth

 

The Example of Nazareth

“….it is your Christian duty to obey your parents, for this is the right thing to do” (A)

 

The home of Nazareth is the school where we begin to understand the life of Jesus – the school of the Gospel. The first lesson we learn here is to look, to listen, to meditate, and to penetrate the meaning – at once so deep and so mysterious – of this very simple, humble, and beautiful manifestation of the Son of God. Perhaps we learn, even imperceptibly, the lesson of imitation.

 How gladly would I become a child again, and go to school once more in this humble and sublime school of Nazareth: close to Mary, I wish I could make a fresh start at learning the true science of life and the higher wisdom of divine truths.  But I am only a passing pilgrim. I must renounce this desire to pursue in this home my still incomplete education in the understanding of the Gospel.   First, then, a lesson of silence. May esteem for silence, that admirable and indispensable condition of mind, revive in us, besieged as we are by so many uplifted voices, the general noise and uproar, in our seething and over-sensitized modern life. May the silence of Nazareth teach us recollection, inwardness, the disposition to listen to good inspirations, and the teachings of true masters. May it teach us the value of preparation, of study, of meditation, of personal inner life, of the prayer which God alone sees in secret.

Next, there is a lesson on family life. May Nazareth teach us what family life is, its communion of love, its austere and simple beauty, and its sacred and inviolable character. Let us learn from Nazareth that the formation received at home is gentle and irreplaceable. Let us learn the prime importance of the role of the family in social order.

Finally, there is a lesson at work. Nazareth, home of the ‘Carpenter’s Son’, in you I would choose to understand and proclaim the severe and redeeming law of human work; here I would restore the awareness of the nobility of work; and reaffirm that work cannot be an end in itself, but that its freedom and its excellence derive, over and above its economic worth, from the value of those for whose sake it is undertaken. And here at Nazareth, to conclude, I want to greet all the workers of the world, holding up to them their great pattern, their brother who is God. He is the prophet of all their just causes, Christ our Lord.

“Whatever you are doing, put your whole heart into it…”

From an address given at Nazareth by Pope Paul VI

A shoot springs from the stock of Jesse

 

A shoot springs from the stock of Jesse

 

The Word became flesh. And he lived among us, alleluia (A)

 

Dearly beloved, today our Saviour is born. Let us rejoice. Sadness should have no place on the birthday of life. The fear of death has been swallowed up; life brings us joy with the promise of eternal happiness. No one is shut out from this joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing. Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all. Let the saint rejoice as he sees the palm of victory at hand. Let the sinner be glad as he receives the offer of forgiveness. Let the pagan take courage as he is summoned to life.

 

In the fullness of time, chosen in the unfathomable depths of God’s wisdom, the Son of God took for himself our common humanity to reconcile it with its creator. He came to overthrow the devil, the origin of death, in that very nature by which he had overthrown mankind. And so at the birth of our Lord, the angels sing in joy: Glory to God in the highest, and they proclaim peace to men of goodwill as they see the heavenly Jerusalem being built from all the nations of the world. When the angels on high are so exultant at this marvellous work of God’s goodness, what joy should it not bring to the lowly hearts of men?

 

 Beloved, let us give thanks to God the Father, through his Son, in the Holy Spirit, because in his great love for us, he took pity on us, and when we were dead in our sins, he brought us to life with Christ, so that in him we might be a new creation. Let us throw off our old nature and all its ways and, as we have come to birth in Christ, let us renounce the works of the flesh. Christian, remember your dignity, and now that you share in God’s own nature, do not return by sin to your former base condition. Bear in mind who your head is and of whose body you are a member. Do not forget that you have been rescued from the power of darkness and brought into the light of God’s kingdom. Through the sacrament of baptism, you have become a temple of the Holy Spirit. Do not drive away so great a guest by evil conduct and become a slave to the devil, for your liberty was bought by the blood of Christ.

 

Christian, remember your dignity.

From a sermon of Saint Leo the Great, Pope