Avenge me of my Adversary Ex 17:8-13; Tim 3:14-4:2; Lk 18:1-8 (29/C)

Avenge me of my Adversary

 

Ex 17:8-13; Tim 3:14-4:2; Lk 18:1-8 (29/C)

 

“My soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you” (Ps 62).

 

Today’s liturgy invites us to consider perseverance in prayer. In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us about the necessity “to pray always without becoming weary” (Lk 18:1). The poor widows in the times of OT had many adversaries, who barbarously took advantage of their weak and helpless state to invade their rights, and defraud them of what little they have (Jer. 21:3; Is 1:17). The widow presented by Luke was a stranger and alone by herself came to an unjust judge. She had neither friends nor an attorney to advocate her cause. The judge was clearly not a Jewish judge. He was one of the paid magistrates appointed either by Herod or by the Romans. Such judges were notorious. Unless a plaintiff had influence and money to bribe his/her way to a verdict, they had no hope of ever getting their case settled. These judges were known as Dayyaneh Gezeroth (robber judges).

 

Jesus wants us to be like the persistent widow, staying in a relationship with God, confident that God hears and answers prayers. He teaches with his deeds and with his words. To speak from the heart is also to the heart (Ps 44:21). God can read the human heart and knows me better than any words I might use. We do not know what will happen to us in the next minute, hour, week, month, or year. Only God sees time whole, and, therefore, only God knows what is good for us in the long run (Jer 29:11). That is why Jesus said we must never be discouraged in prayer.

 

With the help of Aaron and Hur, Moses persevered in prayer, and Joshua defeated the forces attacking the people of Israel. It was really God who defeated the Amalekites. It was not Joshua. It is really God who will defeat our enemies, not us (Ex 14:14).  Vengeance is his, not ours (Dt 32:35). We need to keep praying in trust and doing our part to put up a good fight. Our Christian Community helps us hold up our hands in prayer. If the love and concern of our God are with us, who can be against us? (Rom 8:31). The widow is the symbol of all our poor and defenseless. It was obvious that she, without recourse of any kind, had no hope of ever extracting justice from such a judge except through the weapon of persistence.

 

This parable is like the parable of the Friend at Midnight (Lk 11: 5-13). It contrasts God with such persons. Jesus says, “If, in the end, an unjust judge can be wearied into giving a widow justice, how much more will God, who is a loving Father, give his children what they need?” Jesus is a model of prayer. He said to Peter: “I have prayed that your own faith may not fail” (Lk 22:32). At the crucifixion, he said, ‘Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34), and when he breathed his last, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Lk 23:46).

 

Faith is a gift that God gives us. We could not believe in God in hope if God did not first draw us to himself with merciful love, as St Augustine prayed. If we want to grow and persevere in faith until the end of our days, then we must nourish our faith with the word of God and ask the Lord to increase it (Lk 17:5). When trials and setbacks disappoint us, where do we place our hope and confidence? Do we pray with expectant faith and confident hope in God’s merciful care and provision for us?

 

 

“I seek to dwell in the Lord’s house all the days of my life…” (Ps 27:4)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lord! Help my Unbelief 2 Kig 5:14-17; 2 Tim 2:8-13; Lk 17:11-19 (28/C)

 

Lord!  Help my Unbelief

 

2 Kig 5:14-17; 2 Tim 2:8-13; Lk 17:11-19 (28/C)

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

 

The central theme of today’s readings is gratitude. God expects gratitude from us for the many blessings we receive from him. So often, once one gets what they want, they never come back. Today’s stories of lepers in the Old Testament and the leper in the Gospel remind us that faith and healing are closely intertwined. It demonstrates an unconditional love of God for all people. In the world of Jesus, leprosy meant more than physical suffering. It meant exclusion — being cut off from worship, from community, and even from hope. The book of Leviticus tells us that lepers must live outside the camp and cry, “Unclean!” (Lev 13:45). Only a priest could declare a leper clean again. The 10 lepers in the Gospel stood at a distance and cried out: “Jesus, Master, pity us!” It is a cry from the margins, a plea that pierces the heart of God. And Jesus, full of compassion, tells them: “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” On their way, they are cleansed. But the story takes a surprising turn — only one of them, realizing he has been healed, returns. He falls at the feet of Jesus, praising God with a loud voice and thanking him. And Luke adds the remarkable detail: “He was a Samaritan.”

 

Why does the evangelist Luke tell us that the one who returned was a Samaritan? Because Samaritan was not expected to understand the ways of God. The Jews and Samaritans despised each other. Yet, in this story, the foreigner becomes the model of true faith. The Samaritan recognizes the grace he has received, and his gratitude becomes worship. Jesus said to them, “Your faith has saved you.” All ten were healed in body, but only one was healed in soul. The others received a gift, but Samaritan entered into a relationship. Gratitude is not just good manners — it is the response of a heart that truly believes, as St. Augustine said, “Nine rejoiced in their bodies, but only one rejoiced in the Lord.” We are called to rejoice only in the Lord (Ph 4:4).

 

The Fathers of the Church note three parallels between the Samaritan leper story and the story of Naaman, the Gentile who was healed of leprosy (2 kg 5:14-17). First, both Naaman and the Samaritan leper were foreigners who sought healing from a Divine Jew, Jesus. Second, both were ordered to perform a small, seemingly irrelevant action. Elisha told Naaman to bathe in the Jordan River seven times. Jesus told the ten lepers to show themselves to the priest, who could certify a healing. In both stories, healing took place only after they left the presence of the Divine Jew to obey. Third, both Naaman and the Samaritan returned, praising God, to the one who had commanded them to go.

 

How often do we, like the nine, receive God’s blessings and move on? We pray for help, and when help comes, we forget the giver. Yet true faith always leads back to thanksgiving. The very word “Eucharistia” means “thanksgiving” — it is our return to Jesus to fall at his feet and say, “Thank you, Lord.” Each Sunday, we are that healed Samaritan, coming to praise God for his mercy. The Gospel also reminds us that God’s grace knows no boundaries. His mercy extends to the outsider, the forgotten, the rejected. Jesus does not avoid the lepers or the Samaritans. He walks right into their world. The Church, following her Lord, is called to do the same — to reach out, to welcome, to heal, to include. As we continue our journey to heavenly Jerusalem with Christ in this Eucharist, may we recognize the countless ways he heals and restores us. May our hearts, like those of the grateful and healed lepers, overflow with gratitude every day. Our faith saves us.

 

“Let everything that breathes give praise to the Lord! Alleluia”.

 

 

 

The Vitality of the Mustard Seed in the Kingdom: Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4; 2 Tim 1:6-8,13-14; Lk17:5-10 (27 /C)

 

The Vitality of the Mustard Seed in the Kingdom

 

Hab 1:2-3; 2:2-4; 2 Tim 1:6-8,13-14; Lk17:5-10 (27 /C)

The Lord is faithful in all his words and loving in all his deeds. Alleluia.

 

Today’s first reading comes from the Prophet Habakkuk.  Habakkuk lived around 650 years before the Lord.  It was a time of violence.  The Babylonians had conquered the Assyrians and were threatening or attacking the rest of the world, including the Kingdom of Judah.  The Jews themselves were continually assaulting each other.  Hatred and violence were seen as part of life, even accepted. Habakkuk’s society was not all that much different than ours, where violence and might are glorified and the weak are kept in their place. His society cried, “How long, O Lord? I cry for help, but you do not listen! I cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not intervene…”

 

Today’s Gospel begins with the apostles’ plea: “Lord, increase our faith!” and Jesus’ striking reply about the mustard seed. This plea speaks not only to our inner life, but also to how we live faith in society—through justice, solidarity, and love. Faith is not measured in size but in vitality. A little faith, like a mustard seed, can transform lives if lived sincerely. Spiritually, we are invited to pray like the apostles every day: “Increase our faith!”—not to perform wonders for ourselves, but to remain faithful in forgiving, loving, and persevering in hope. Faith is both God’s gift and our response. Faith calls us to see every person as created in God’s image. Our service is not just duty, but a recognition of Christ in others (Mt 25:40). Solidarity, just as faith moves mountains, must move us into communion with the suffering of others as a preferential option (CCC 2448) as the Prophet Amos proclaimed (Am 7).

 

Even the “mustard seed” image reminds us that faith is organic, like creation itself—planted, nourished, and growing.  Our faith that obliges us to care for the earth is entrusted to us. Pope Francis, in his “Laudato Si” exhorted us to take our stewardship of God’s creation. The parable of the servant echoes Lumen Gentium (no. 31): every Christian—clergy, religious, and lay—is called to sanctify the world by humble service, not seeking reward but glorifying God. St. Augustine viewed faith as the foundation of charity, as without faith, love cannot flourish. Faith is neither a purely intellectual nor a purely emotional attitude. From its intellectual side, it professes what we judge to be true. It is a matter of responding to feelings. These are a gift of the Spirit that moves us to give ourselves to God. If we let go of the illusion of being only for ourselves, it can bring us inner spiritual growth. Faith touches an awareness deep within us, an awareness of God’s presence guiding and helping us. It is an ongoing process, growing as we grow, changing as we change, maturing, and we mature as it was in the life of Abraham. Our childhood faith cannot sustain us in adulthood. It develops into something that lasts with us till the end of our lives.

 

Our world cries for faith that is alive. Faith does not hide in private prayer; it forgives enemies, serves the poor, protects creation, and defends human dignity. Let us not fear small beginnings—whether it is one act of kindness, one word of forgiveness, or one decision for justice. Like a mustard seed, these small acts grow into great signs of God’s Kingdom. And let us remember that when we serve others, we are not doing God a favor. We are simply living our vocation as disciples who know: “We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.”  All our family, professional, and social life, in the political, economic world, etc., has to be imbued with this spirit. “If you want to be useful, serve”, asserted St. Josemaría Escrivá; he wanted us to understand that “to be useful” we have to live a life of generous service without seeking honors, human glory, or applause. May the Lord increase our humble faith that serves and transforms the world. Then the mustard seed planted in our hearts will bear fruit in families, in society, and in creation itself.

 

May you be praised, Lord, and extolled for ever. Alleluia.

Honoring the Body of Christ in Lazarus Am 6:1,4-71; 1Tim 6:11-16; Lk 16:19-31 (26 /C)

 

Honoring the Body of Christ in Lazarus

Am 6:1,4-71; 1Tim 6:11-16; Lk 16:19-31 (26 /C)

“Whoever gives you a drink of water in my name, will not lose his reward, says the Lord” (DO)

 

The Gospel of Luke is often referred to as the Gospel of the poor. It consistently highlights God’s preferential love for the poor (Lk 4:18; 6:20). Accordingly, the whole gospel reflects upon the poor and the marginalized. The name Lazarus in today’s gospel is taken from the Hebrew name Eliezer, meaning “God is my help” or “God will help”. The scene of the Gospel is presented as Lazarus, the beggar, covered with ulcerated sores, amid the dogs, sitting in the bosom of Abraham, and the rich man in torment. Why was it so? Luke the evangelist does not show the rich man chasing Lazarus out of his gate. Neither did he object to his receiving the bread flung away from his table, nor was he deliberately cruel to him. What was the sin of the rich man, then?

From an anthropological perspective, this parable reminds us that every human being is fragile, finite, and destined for death. Lazarus, lying at the gate, covered in sores, ignored by the world, represents the poor, suffering, frail, hungry, and finally ignored, retains the dignity of a child of God. The rich man represents a humanity that forgets its relational nature, closing itself in self-sufficiency. Vatican II reminds us in Gaudium et Spes that “man… cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of himself” (GS 24). The tragedy of the rich man is not that he had wealth, but that he failed to give at least some attention and concern to his fellow human brother to make him better himself at the gate. The rich man is not condemned for being wealthy, but for being blind and deaf, to make him stand by himself in sufferings. He had the voice of Moses, Amos, the prophets, and the Word of God calling for mercy and justice, but he neglected them. And so, even if one were to rise from the dead, he would not believe. This is a warning for us to be attentive to the word of God. The time for grasping it is now, not tomorrow.

Secondly, this parable echoes the consistent message. God lifts the poor and casts down the proud (Lk 1: Ps 113:7). Vatican II insists on the sufficiency and authority of God’s Word. In Dei Verbum, we are told that Scripture is given “for our salvation” (DV 11). We are warned not to wait for signs, but to let the Word we hear each Sunday transform us now. From the lens of the Church’s social teaching, the parable becomes even more urgent. Vatican II teaches that “the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ” (Gaudium et Spes, 1). The Council also emphasizes that the goods of the earth are destined for all: “God intended the earth with everything contained in it for the use of all human beings and peoples” (Gaudium et Spes, 69). Wealth, therefore, is a stewardship, not a private fortress. To ignore Lazarus is to ignore Christ himself. Respecting Lazarus is to help the poor become independent breadwinners and not dependent beggars for life.

St. John Chrysostom asked: “Do you want to honor the body of Christ? Do not neglect him when he is naked. Do not honor him here in the church with silken garments while neglecting him outside suffering from cold and nakedness.” It calls for love of conscientizing the poor to become contributors rather than recipients. Lumen Gentium reminds us that the Church is a sacrament of unity with God and of the unity of the whole human race (LG 1). She “recognizes that she is truly linked with mankind and its history by the deepest of bonds” (GS 1). If we truly are one Body in Christ, then Lazarus is our body or brother. His suffering is our responsibility. The parable is not given to frighten us but to awaken us. The great chasm that separated the rich man and Lazarus in eternity was dug already during life by indifference, blindness, neglect, and hardness of heart. But the Gospel offers us hope. Today, in this life, that chasm can still be crossed by the love of education, solidarity, and conversion. May the Lord give us the grace to receive them in Christ and thus prepare for the eternal banquet where he himself will welcome us.

“Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these, you did for me” (Mt 25:45)

Green Leaf of Righteous Wealth Am 8:4-7; 1 Tim 2:1-8; Lk 16:1-13 (25/ C)

 Green Leaf of Righteous Wealth 

Am 8:4-7; 1 Tim 2:1-8; Lk 16:1-13 (25/ C)

“Christians should handle the affairs of temporal life with an eye toward eternal life.”

 

The relation of the steward to the rich man in today’s Gospel calls for application to our relationship with God. It is to be seen in the use of our talents of stewardship entrusted by God. The term “steward” is applied here to indicate this relation. Each of us is endowed with a charge of God’s property. That is our own constitution—physical, mental, moral—is a trust. All our endowments—talents, money, relationships, social positions are properties of which we are farmers. If we think that we can do as we like with them, it would be false to our creator and false to ourselves. God has given us the power of dominance in the right way (Ps 8:4) to govern them. Do we realize this, or do we sadly forget the fact of stewardship? Are we not, in many ways, changing the tenant into the master, the steward into the owner?

Christian stewardship is the administration of the Christian life. When we are depressed about the trade of something, of hard, dull times, the prophecy of the Prophet Haggai is reflected, “Give careful thought to your ways. You have planted much, but harvested little. You eat but never have enough. You drink but never have your fill. You put on clothes but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it” (Hag 1:5-6). Augustine of Hippo says, “Even though you possess plenty, you are still poor. You abound in temporal possessions, but you need things eternal” (Sermon 56, 9). Regarding Christian objects, what should be the steward’s prudence in the conduct of benevolent enterprises? Competition is healthy in certain limited areas. Diffuse causes not only ill health: it might become a scandal.

Pope Leo XIV, in a recent interview with a Catholic News site, said that the polarization in society is being driven in part by a “wider gap between the income levels of the working class and the money that the wealthiest receive”. Mammon is meant to be an instrument for the accomplishment of our stewardship. The things of this world are the mammon of unrighteousness, or the false mammon. Christ insists we cannot serve both (Lk 16: 13). God requires us to spend mammon on the needy while the world demands spending on one’s own lusts. It is impossible to reconcile their services. The only faithfulness to the one is to break with the other. Do we need to make ourselves of the mammon of unrighteousness, as the steward with his lord’s goods made his lord’s tenants his friends to inherit the life of comfort?

Luke concludes the parable of Jesus with a lesson that stands as a question: Who is the master in charge of our lives? Our “master” is that which governs our thought-life, shapes our ideals, and controls the desires of the heart and the values we choose to live by. We, as farmers, need to cultivate Christ’s spirit-oriented values and, as stewards, surrender them on his return when we meet him at our resurrection. Our money, time, and possessions are precious resources and gifts from God. Those who trust in their riches will fall, but the righteous will thrive like a green leaf (Pro 11:28). We can guard them jealously for ourselves alone or allow them for the benefit of the needy in his kingdom.

“Those who can be trusted in small things can also be trusted in great things.”

My Redemption in the Cross of Christ: Num 21:4b–9; Ph 2:6–11; Jn 3:13–17 (Sep. 14th/ C)

 

My Redemption in the Cross of Christ

Num 21:4b–9; Ph 2:6–11; Jn 3:13–17 (Sep. 14^th/   C)

“By your Holy Cross, You have redeemed the World.”

 

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross. The recovery of the cross by St. Helena in 326 brought joy to celebrate it throughout the Church. The evangelist John’s account of the Old Testament story (Num 21:4-9) brings fulfillment of God’s saving plan in Jesus’ crucifixion. On their journey through the wilderness, the people of Israel bitterly complained against God. To punish them, God sent a plague of deadly serpents. The people repented and cried for mercy. God instructed Moses to make an image of a serpent and to hold it up on a pole. Those who looked upon the serpent were healed. In later times, the brazen serpent became an idol in the days of Hezekiah, and that was destroyed because people were worshipping it (2 Kgs 18:4). The Jews themselves were confused whether they were forbidden to make images. Thus, the rabbis explained it this way: “It was not the serpent that gave life. It was God who healed them.” The healing power lies not in the brazen serpent. It was only a symbol to indicate God.

The evangelist John uses this story to present Jesus lifted on the cross as the brazen serpent, and people should turn their thoughts and believe in him for eternal life. The Greek verb “hupsoun” means “to lift up” in English. It is used of Jesus in two senses: (1) being lifted upon the Cross (Jn 8:28; Jn 12:32) and being lifted into glory into heaven (Act 2:33; Act 5:31; Phil 2:9). These two are inextricably connected. It is inevitable to have glory without the cross. There is no victory without struggle. There is a phrase that speaks of “believing in Jesus” (Jn 3:16) in the Gospel. It means at least three things. Firstly, God loves and forgives all whom he created. Secondly, he sent his only son, Jesus, to give us everlasting life through his death and resurrection. Thirdly, whatever Jesus says is true, and we should believe it.

We need to understand the phrase “eternal life” (Jn 3:16). If we enter into eternal life, what does it give us? It gives us peace with God. It gives us peace with men.  It enables us to see men as God sees them. It gives us peace with life. God is working all things together for good. We may not understand life any better, but we will no longer resent it. It gives us peace with ourselves. We are more afraid of ourselves than of anything else. We know our own weakness. We know the force of our own temptations, tasks, and the demands of our lives. But now we know that we are facing it all with God. It is not we who live but Christ who lives in us. There is peace founded on Christ.

The deepest peace on earth is certainly a shadow of the ultimate peace which is to come. It gives us hope and a goal to travel. It provides a life of glorious wonder here and yet, at the same time, a life in which the best is yet to be. The Triumph of the Cross is the Triumph of Jesus Christ. The deeper meaning of the Cross is presented in Jesus’ “kenosis,” meaning “emptying” himself. The word “whosoever” in the phrase “whoever believes in him (3:16) employed here brings meaning that in the Divine compassion, there is no limitation, restriction, or condition prescribed by Divine wisdom, which can exclude the meanest or the vilest. God the Father always rejoices in searching out those who have strayed, and he welcomes them home with open arms. Every penitent believer enjoys the incomparable gift of salvation by looking to Jesus on the Cross. The intercessory prayers of Our Lady of Sorrows will surely be our support in our struggle for victory.

“Through you the world is redeemed by the blood of the Lord” (Divine Office).

The Cost of Discipleship Wis 9:13-18b; Phile 9-10, 12-17Lk 14:25-33 (24/ C)

 

The Cost of Discipleship

Wis 9:13-18b; Phile 9-10, 12-17Lk 14:25-33 (24/ C)

Today, the Virgin Mary was born of the race of David (DO)

 

The disciples of Christ are called to be like soldiers who go to war, must consider the hazards of it, and the difficulties that are to be encountered (Lk 14:31, 32). Each follower would have a costly tower to build in the devoted life and a war to wage in the contest for the faith. Even in the field of spreading the Gospel, it calls for calculation and estimation. In our times, we are living through a major socio-cultural change. We cannot spread faith in this new phase of our world without knowing it well and understanding it from within. What access to the Gospel can we offer if we despise or ignore the thinking, feelings, and language of our own times? We cannot respond to today’s challenges without walking with the divine plan of God.

 

Abraham departed from his own country. Moses departed Pharaoh’s court to serve God. Paul departed from his wealth and profession of Law. Apostles departed to different parts of the world to proclaim him. They never calculated the measures of the world except for their motivator. But the trail is inevitable. Satan, in the trial of Job, imagined that Job would give up all that he had rather than lose his life (Job 2:4). He fancied that the patriarch, who would not curse God under the loss of children and property, would break down if God touched his bone or his flesh. But Job was so spiritually minded as to be ready to trust God, even should he be slain (Job 13:15).

Teresa of Avila suffered all her days, never allowing herself to be overcome by her troubles. When she heard that her close associate, John of the Cross, was imprisoned and being punished as a renegade from the Carmelite Order, she wrote, “God has a terrible way of treating his friends, and in truth he does them no wrong, since that was the way he treated his own Son, Jesus Christ.” If Christ, then, the all-holy Son of God, submitted to suffering and death, then we, his servants, cannot expect to be treated any differently from our Master. Fr. Stan Swamy, an Indian Jesuit, struggled and died in prison for working towards bringing social justice to the Northern tribes. And thus, he states quite categorically. “Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple.” In every sphere of life, a Christian is called upon to count the cost. The sacraments like Baptism, Marriage, and Ordination are not to be entered upon lightly or unadvisedly, but thoughtfully, reverently, and in the fear of God.

We should not picture God as being one who takes an unholy delight in seeing his children suffer. At the end of the creation story in Genesis 1:31, we are told, “God saw all he had made and indeed it was good.” We can therefore say that everything is good insofar as it serves God’s purpose. Nowhere do the gospels suggest that Jesus wanted suffering for its own sake. His prayer in Gethsemane was, “Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me” (Mt 26:39). But the example of Jesus, as well as that of his sinless mother, shows us that it is impossible, even for just and virtuous people, to avoid suffering and the effects of sin in the world. When Paul begged God to cure him of his ailments the answer he got was, “My grace is all you need.” (2 Cor 12:9). Later he would write: “I gladly suffer for you, and in my body do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church” (Col 1:24).

“Darkness yields before the coming of the light, and grace exchanges legalism for freedom” (St Andrew of Crete)

Humility is the seed of Justice Sir 3:17-18,20,28-29; Heb 12:18-19,22-24; Lk 14:1,7-14 (22 /C)

 

Humility is the seed of Justice

Sir 3:17-18,20,28-29; Heb 12:18-19,22-24; Lk 14:1,7-14 (22 /C)

“Late have I loved you, Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!” (DO)

 

The Word of God today calls us to humility, not only as a personal virtue but also as the foundation of how we live together as a society and a Church. The book of Sirach tells, “My child, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than a giver of gifts” (Sir 3:17; Prov 23:22). In Jewish wisdom, humility meant walking in truth before God and in justice before others.  Jesus teaches, “When you are invited, go and take the lowest place… Who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (Lk 14:10-11). He goes even deeper: “When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind. Blessed indeed will you be, because they cannot repay you” (Mt 5:46-47). The dignity of the human person lies in realizing that all are created in the image of God.

Here, Jesus teaches not only personal humility but also the preferential option for the poor. A society, a parish, and a Christian life are judged not by how one treats the powerful, but by how one uplifts the vulnerable. St. Augustine says, “The first virtue of the Christian is humility.” Humility is not self-neglect but self-gift. In the same way, St. Gregory the Great writes, “Pride is the seed of injustice, but humility is the seed of true justice, because it opens our hearts to serve others”. These Fathers of the Church anticipated the development of modern Catholic Social Teaching. The Church reminds us that we are one family in God, called to lift one another.

To be humble means standing with migrants, the poor, the sick, the unborn, the elderly, and the forgotten like Boaz to Ruth (Ruth). The Catholic Social Teaching reminds us that every policy, every institution, and every community must be measured by how it protects human dignity and promotes the common good. Humility challenges us to see beyond ourselves, building communities where no one is excluded from the banquet of life. True humility is not feeling bad about oneself or thinking oneself inferior to others. Such humility frees us from preoccupation with ourselves, whereas a low self-opinion tends to focus our attention on ourselves. Humility is truth in self-understanding and truth in action. Viewing ourselves truthfully, with sober judgment, means seeing ourselves the way God sees us (Ps 139:1-4). A humble person makes a realistic assessment of oneself without the illusion of being something one is not.

We see this most beautifully fulfilled in the Eucharist. Every Mass is the banquet of the Kingdom where the high and the lowly, the rich and the poor, the weak and the strong are gathered together—not because we earned a place, but because God’s mercy invites us. Before Communion, we pray: “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof…” This is humility. And at that very moment, the Lord of heaven stoops down to feed us with his very body and blood. This is solidarity in its deepest form: God uniting himself with humanity so that humanity might be lifted into God’s life. He emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, becoming obedient unto death, even death on a cross (Ph 2:7-8). The Lord Jesus gives grace to those who seek him humbly. Our world constantly pushes us to seek recognition, power, and honor. Yet Jesus invites us to take the “lowest place”—not just as a personal spiritual act, but as a social responsibility. Do you want to be a servant as Jesus served? 

“…this very light made me, and I was below it because by it I was made” (St Augustine)

Only One of Two Paths Is 66:18-21; Heb 12:5-7,11-13; Lk 13:22-30 (21 / C)

 

Only One of Two Paths

Is 66:18-21; Heb 12:5-7,11-13; Lk 13:22-30 (21 / C)

The standards of heaven are not the standards of earth (Gaudium et Spes)

 

The evangelist Luke brings forth Jesus’ parable of “enter through the narrow gate” (Mt 7:13-14). This image of the “narrow door” or “the eye of a needle” (Mk 10:25) reflects the final verses of the parable, the image of the heavenly banquet at Is 43:5-6, speaking of God’s bringing Israel’s descendants back from the east and the west, the north, and the south. He provides a feast of rich foods and choice wines for all peoples on his holy mountain (Is 25:6). To partake in it, Jesus calls his disciples to a choice between two paths: the way of life and the way of death (Ps 1); “I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore, choose life” (Dt 30). Jesus reiterates this teaching, portraying the vivid metaphor of the narrow and the wide gate.

In the cities of Jesus’ time, gates varied in size. There were wide gates where crowds, merchants, and animals could easily pass, but there were also smaller gates where only one person could enter at a time, often only by stooping or laying aside burdens. The image of the narrow gate suggests that discipleship is not about moving with the crowd or carrying every attachment of this world. To enter it, one must bow in humility, let go of pride, sin, and unnecessary baggage, and make a personal decision to follow Christ. In using this image, Jesus is revealing his own heart. He is the narrow gate. He declares, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved” (Jn 10:9). To enter this gate means to embrace his way of life, living the pattern of his Cross. Yet the narrowness of the Cross opens into the vastness of Resurrection and eternal joy.

In Luke’s version, Jesus says, “Strive to enter through the narrow door” (Lk 13:24). The word “strive” in the original Greek is agonizesthe, the root of our word “agony,” meaning to struggle or wrestle like an athlete in training. St. Paul uses the same language when he says, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim 4:7). Christian life is not a casual walk on an easy road, but a race that requires endurance, vigilance, and discipline, empowered always by grace. St. Augustine teaches that the narrow way is difficult at first, because it restrains disordered desires, once the heart is enlarged by the love of God, it becomes sweet and wide with joy”. St. Gregory the Great reminds us that “the narrow gate is nothing other than love of God expressed in sacrifice, for it requires preferring his will above our own”.

Today, this teaching remains as urgent. The wide gate is the way of the world—comfort without sacrifice, freedom without truth, and pleasure without responsibility. It is attractive because it demands little, but it ends up in emptiness. The narrow gate is the path of fidelity to Christ—prayer, honesty, forgiveness, generosity to the poor, faithfulness in marriage, courage to live the truth even when unpopular. Jesus, through the Gospel, is showing us the only way to its fullness. The narrow gate is not misery but love of Christ to walk with him, nourished by his Word and his Body and Blood. What appears narrow is the path to the vast freedom of God’s love and the eternal joy of his kingdom. Which gate are we choosing each day? May we, with God’s grace, choose the narrow gate with courage, knowing that the One who calls us to enter also walks with us to everlasting life. 

“Our hope in a new earth should not weaken…” (Gaudium et Spes)

The Savior is my Priority Jer 38:4-6,8-10; Heb 12:1-4; Lk 12:49-53 (20 / C)

 

 The Savior is my Priority

Jer 38:4-6,8-10; Heb 12:1-4; Lk 12:49-53 (20 / C)

“Come and hear, all who fear God. I will tell what he did for my soul, alleluia”.

 

In Jewish thought, fire is almost always the symbol of judgment. Why did Jesus link “fire” from heaven with costly division on the earth? Did he expect his followers to take his statement of “father against son and son against father” and “mother against daughter and daughter against mother” literally? Or was he intentionally using a figure of speech to emphasize the choice and cost of following him above all else? Jesus used a typical Hebrew hyperbole (a figure of speech) to drive home an important lesson. We often do the same when we want to emphasize something very strongly. Jesus' hyperbole, however, contained a real warning that the Gospel message has serious consequences for our lives.

When Jesus spoke about division within families, he likely had in mind the prophecy of Micah: a man’s enemies are the members of his own household (Mic 7:6). The essence of Christianity is loyalty to Jesus Christ - the Son of God and Savior of the world - a loyalty that takes precedence over every other relationship. The love of God compels us to choose who will be first in our lives. To place any relationship (or anything else) above God is a form of idolatry. Jesus challenges his disciples to examine who they love first and foremost. A true disciple loves God above all else and is willing to forsake all for Jesus Christ. Jesus insists that his disciples give him the loyalty that is only due to God, a loyalty that is higher than that of spouse or kin. It is possible that family and friends can become our enemies if the thought of them keeps us from doing what we know God wants us to do. Does the love of Jesus Christ compel you to put God first in all you do (2 Cor 5:14)?

Here, Jesus tells the crowd not to think he has come to bring peace; he has come to bring division. Simeon said as much when he turned to Mary and said that the child was destined for the rise and fall of many and to be a sign that would be contradicted. Peace is the ultimate end of the Kingdom of God, but peace has a price. Jesus is warning the crowd that wherever the Word of God is heard and acted upon, division occurs. Fathers will be divided against sons and mothers against daughters.

Benedict XVI affirmed that “Jesus Christ is not just a private conviction or an abstract idea, but a real person, whose becoming part of human history is capable of renewing the life of every man and woman.” Faithfulness demands courage and ascetic struggle. Sin and evil constantly tempt us: that is why struggle, courageous effort, and participation in Christ’s Passion are necessary. Hatred of sin is not a peaceful thing. The kingdom of heaven demands effort, struggle, and violence within ourselves, and those who make this effort are those who conquer it (Mt 11:12). If we keep Jesus in mind, we will not allow ourselves to be discouraged. His sacrifice represents the opposite of the spiritual lukewarmness into which we often settle.

“Your light must shine so brightly before men that they can see your good works and glorify your Father”

 

Mother! Your Body is Holy and Glorious 1 Chr 15:3-4,15-16,16:1-2; 1 Cor 15:54-57; Lk 11:27-28 (C )

 

Mother! Your Body is Holy and Glorious

1 Chr 15:3-4,15-16,16:1-2; 1 Cor 15:54-57; Lk 11:27-28 (C )

Arise, O Virgin Queen. You are worthy of everlasting honour: enter the splendid palace of the eternal King (Divine Office)

In their sermons on the feast day of the Assumption of the Mother of God, the holy fathers and the great doctors of the church were speaking of something that the faithful already knew and accepted. All they did was to bring it out into the open, to explain its meaning and substance in other terms. Above all, they made it most clear that this feast commemorated not merely the fact that the blessed Virgin Mary did not experience bodily decay, but also her triumph over death and her heavenly glory, following the example of her only Son, Jesus Christ.

St John Damascene exalted her privileges, “It was right that she who had kept her virginity unimpaired through the process of giving birth should have kept her body without decay through death. It was right that she who had given her Creator, as a child, a place at her breast should be given a place in the dwelling-place of her God. It was right that the bride espoused by the Father should dwell in the heavenly bridal chamber. It was right that she who had gazed on her Son on the cross, her heart pierced at that moment by the sword of sorrow that she had escaped at his birth, should now gaze on him seated with his Father. It was right that the Mother of God should possess what belongs to her Son and be honoured by every creature as God’s Mother and handmaid. St. Germanus of Constantinople considered the preservation from decay of the body of the Mother of God because she had become the dwelling-place of God. It became a glorious and incorruptible life, living and unharmed, sharing the perfect life.

It is essential to remember the Virgin Mary as the new Eve (Rom 5:12-21) for the new Adam. She is not equal to him, of course, but closely joined with him in the battle against the enemy, which ended in the triumph over sin and death that had been promised even in Paradise (Gen 3: 14-19). The glorious resurrection of Christ is essential to this victory and its final prize, but the blessed Virgin’s share in that fight must also have ended in the glorification of her body. For as the Apostle says: When this mortal nature has put on immortality, then the scripture will be fulfilled that says “Death is swallowed up in victory” (1 Cor 15).

The great Mother of God, so mysteriously united to Jesus Christ from all eternity by the same decree of predestination, immaculately conceived.  As an associate of Christ, she defeated sin and its consequences and received the final crowning privilege of being preserved from the corruption of the grave following her Son in his victory over death. Thus she was brought, body and soul, to the highest glory of heaven, to shine as Queen at the right hand of that same Son, the immortal King of Ages.

The Apostolic Constitution of Pope Pius XII on the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

The Lord chose her: he chose her before she was born. He has brought her to live in his own dwelling-place (Divine Office)

He knocks. Be vigilant Wis 18:6-9; Heb 11:1-2,8-19; Lk 12:32-48 (19/ C)

 

He knocks. Be vigilant

Wis 18:6-9; Heb 11:1-2,8-19; Lk 12:32-48 (19/ C)

 “..Since each of us possesses God in his heart and is being transformed into his divine image” (St Anastasius of Sinai)

 

The evangelist Luke presents us with Jesus’ parable of the steward about watchfulness. A steward in the time of Jesus was responsible for managing the household and its staff in the master's absence. This man’s mistake was that he did what he liked when the master was away. Jesus warns us to be ready for the coming judgment and be watchful, even if it comes at midnight, and never turn back like Abraham, the father of faith. Faith and patience are regarded as spiritual virtues. St Paul defines faith, “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen” (Heb 11:1).

There were two young girls filled with faith and love for Jesus, even at the cost of their lives. It was in Carthage (Tunisia), North Africa, part of the Roman Empire in 202 A.D. It was the time of preparation for celebrating the emperor Septimus Servanus’ birthday. Free games were organized with gladiators fighting to the death. Between sections of these fights, there would be intervals when people who were condemned were given as food for the cruel animals. These two young girls became part of it. They were a 22-year-old noblewoman and her servant girl. Both were pregnant. They heard a missionary speak about Jesus Christ, the eternal kingdom, and the Love of God.  They decided to become Christians. The greater their joy of becoming Christians, the worse it became in the furious eyes of the emperor. The noble woman was Perpetua (Felix), and Felicity (the Happy One) was her servant. And they wanted others to realize the Love of God in Jesus Christ. They were both determined to give witness to Christ. There was no way that they would keep their joy to themselves. Both contended that to deny Christ would be denying themselves. Both said, “I am a Christian.”  They were arrested and thrown into a horrible prison. The games came up. Both Perpetua and Felicity, and three others, were thrown to the wild beasts in the arena. The Romans would not kill a pregnant girl because that would be killing a baby.  But the soldiers dressed the girls up as pagan goddesses, which the spectators did not like. So, they clothed them in heavy cloths to hide their pregnancies and marched them into the stadium.  A herd of wild heifers was released into the arena, stampeding the girls, hiding them with heavy raising dust. Perpetua said, “But we have to give testimony to Christ for all to see.”  The soldiers dragged them to the center of the arena because they wanted to dissuade people from becoming Christians, not have people marvel at these girls’ courage. Soldiers came out and killed them both. What does their story teach us today? “Come out, come out to the center of the arena and give testimony” is an inner yearning of our souls to give witness to Christ.  The center of the arena is where those who reject Jesus call us to suffer for him. The proper response to our faith is to lead others to Christ.  We have chosen Christ. There is no turning back.

The Gospel begins with the tender words of Jesus, “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock” (Lk 12:32).  Fear is the feeling of anxiety caused by the presence of danger, which can be physical, spiritual, mental, emotional, or moral. We fear all kinds of things. We fear losing our health, losing our jobs, losing a family member, or losing good friends. We fear living alone, dying alone, fear rejection, failure, and losing money. We may fear intimacy or be abandoned. Fear hinders our spiritual and psychological growth. Our fears hold us in bondage and prevent us from experiencing the freedom of God. Confronting our fears daily offers us opportunities to grow spiritually and psychologically. It is a call to face them with a challenge as we prepare ourselves to meet our Savior.  St Augustine says, “Each one of us must prepare for the end. The last day will not bring any harm to anyone who lives each day as if it were the last. Live in such a way that you can die peacefully, because he who dies each day does not die forever”.

The parable reminds us that we should be found doing our jobs when our Savior arrives. If Jesus knocks at our door today, would we be ready and eager to receive him? He wants us to be prepared for his arrival at any moment of the day. He knocks on the door of everyone’s heart, saying, “Listen! I am standing and knocking at your door. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and we will feast together” (Rev 3:20). He prepares us to receive him.

“..in our hearts, Christ takes up his abode together with the Father, saying as he enters: Today salvation has come to this house” (St Anastasius of Sinai)