Homily - Jesse Garcia Funeral

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Today we gather in sorrow, but also in gratitude for the life of our friend and brother Faustino “Jessie” Garcia – known to his family at Junior. 

We commend to God a man who was known not by titles or applause, but by the steady witness of his life — a net setter for tribal fishermen, a talented artist, a father, a friend, a beloved brother, and humble soul who made his home among the Tulalip people for many years.

Though Texas first gave him breath, Tulalip became the waters where his spirit learned to belong.

And maybe that is one of the great mysteries of God’s providence: sometimes the Lord plants us far from where we began so that we may become exactly who we were meant to be.

The readings chosen today speak deeply to the life of this good man.

In the Book of Job, we hear the cry of a man acquainted with hardship:

“I know that my Redeemer lives.”

Job says these words not in comfort, but in suffering. He speaks them while standing in grief, confusion, and loss. Yet somehow faith still burns beneath the ashes.

Anyone who has worked the waters understands something about that kind of faith. A tribal fisherman knows patience. He knows uncertainty. He knows early mornings in cold weather, tides that do not cooperate, storms that come unexpectedly, and long hours when there seems to be little reward for hard labor.

Yet every fisherman returns to the water again.

Why?

Because hope is stronger than discouragement.

That same perseverance shaped the life we honor today. Jessie was not a loud man. Not someone demanding attention. He simply kept showing up — setting nets, creating beauty through his art, helping where needed, living quietly among the people he loved. And his smile was a gift to everyone he met.

There is holiness in that kind of ordinary faithfulness.

The world often celebrates power, wealth, and fame. But Jesus, in today’s Gospel, gives us a very different vision of greatness.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

“Blessed are the meek.”

“Blessed are the merciful.”

“Blessed are the clean of heart.”

Those Beatitudes sound very much like the man we remember today.

The humble rarely realize their own greatness because they are too busy loving others.

Jessie knew how to work with his hands. He understood the rhythm of nature and tide. He created art because beauty lived inside him. And he lived close to the earth and water — places where God often speaks most clearly.

Artists and fish net setters actually have much in common. Both require patience. Both require vision. Both depend upon mysteries larger than themselves.

A fisherman casts nets into waters he cannot fully see.

An artist reaches for beauty that cannot fully be explained.

And both acts, in their own way, become prayers.

Psalm 23 tells us:

“The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.”

For a man who lived close to the waters, these words carry special meaning. The Shepherd leads us beside restful waters. He guides us through dark valleys. He prepares a table before us.

And finally, when our work is done, He brings us home.

That is what we trust today.

Not that death has won.

Not that life simply ends.

But that Christ, who died and rose again, has gone ahead of us.

Saint Paul tells us in Romans:
“If we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him.”

Through baptism, our brother Jessie was united to Jesus. The waters, poured over him long ago, became a promise — that death would never have the final word.

The nets he set throughout his life gathered fish from the sea. But now Christ, the true Fisherman, gathers him into eternal life.

And perhaps that image is fitting today.

After years of labor…
after years of tides and seasons…
after carrying burdens quietly…
after creating beauty and giving love in humble ways...

the Lord now says:

“Well done. Come and rest.”

To his family and friends: grief is real because love is real. The empty chair, the silence, the memories — these hurt because Jessie mattered deeply.

But do not forget this:
the Beatitudes promise that the gentle ones are never lost to God.

The world may overlook humble men.
God never does.

And so we entrust Jessie Garcia now to the Creator who formed him, to the Savior who redeemed him, and to the Spirit who guided him through every tide of life.

May the angels lead him into paradise.

May the saints welcome him home.

And may Christ, the risen Lord, grant him eternal rest.

Amen.

 

HOMILY- 4th Sunday of Easter - “The Door and the Voice” (English & Spanish versions)

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Have you ever answered a phone call from a number you didn’t recognize — and the moment you heard the voice, you knew exactly who it was? No introduction needed.

Something in the tone, the rhythm, the familiarity — it just clicked.

Jesus says in today’s Gospel, “The sheep hear his voice… he calls his own sheep by name and leads them.” The Christian life, at its heart, is not about mastering a rulebook — it’s about recognizing a voice.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus gives us two powerful images: He is both the Shepherd and the Gate. That means two things at once: He calls us personally, and He protects us completely.

He knows your name — not just the version of you that others see, but the real you. And He stands at the entrance of your life, guarding what comes in and what leads you out.

But here’s the tension: there are many voices in our lives. Some promise success, others comfort, others power, others approval.

And not all of them lead to life.

Jesus is blunt: “Whoever does not enter through the gate is a thief and a robber.” Not every voice deserves your trust.

So how do we recognize His voice?

Look at the first reading from Acts of the Apostles. Peter stands up, filled with the Holy Spirit, and speaks clearly: “God has made both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

The people are cut to the heart.

That’s one sign of the Shepherd’s voice — it pierces, it challenges, it calls us to change. It’s not always comfortable, but it is always truthful.

And what do they do? They ask, “What are we to do?”

And Peter answers: “Repent and be baptized.” In other words: turn around and come in through the door. Three thousand people walked through that gate that day — not into a building, but into a whole new way of life.

Then we hear from 1st Peter: “By his wounds you have been healed.”

This is the second sign of the Shepherd’s voice — it heals.

Jesus does not drive us with fear; He leads us with love, even love that suffers. “When he was insulted, he returned no insult.” The Shepherd doesn’t shout us into obedience — He draws us in by example.

So here is the question for us today: Which voice are you following?

The voice that tells you that you are only as valuable as your successes?

The voice that tells you to hold onto resentment and anger?

The voice that says you must carry your burdens alone?

Or the voice that calls you by name, that tells you that you are loved, and invites you to walk through Him into life?

Jesus says, “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” Not just survival. Not just getting by. Abundant life.

But abundance begins with a decision: to trust the voice, and to step through the door.

Today, maybe that means repentance — letting go of something that is not leading to life.

Maybe it means listening more intentionally in prayer.

Maybe it means trusting that even in suffering, the Shepherd is still leading you.

Because here is the truth: you are not wandering alone.

You are known.
You are called.
And the gate is open.

  

Homilía – IV Domingo de Pascua–“La Voz y la Puerta

¿Alguna vez te ha llamado alguien desde un número desconocido, y en cuanto escuchas la voz sabes inmediatamente quién es? No hace falta presentación. Hay algo en la voz que se reconoce al instante.

Jesús nos dice hoy en el Evangelio: “Mis ovejas escuchan mi voz… yo las llamo por su nombre.” La vida cristiana no se trata principalmente de reglas, sino de reconocer una voz.

En el evangelio de san Juan hoy, Jesús se presenta como el Pastor y también como la Puerta. Es decir, Él nos conoce personalmente y también nos protege completamente.

Él sabe tu nombre, conoce tu historia, tus luchas, tus heridas. Y Él es la entrada segura hacia la vida verdadera.

Pero hay un problema: en nuestra vida hay muchas voces. Voces que prometen felicidad fácil, éxito rápido, placer inmediato… pero no todas llevan a la vida. Jesús lo dice claramente: los que no entran por la puerta son ladrones.

Entonces, ¿cómo reconocer la voz de Cristo?

En la primera lectura de los Hechos do los Apósteles, Pedro habla con valentía, y la gente queda “compungida de corazón”. Esa es una señal de la voz de Dios: toca el corazón, incomoda, nos invita a cambiar. No siempre es fácil, pero siempre es verdad.

Y ellos preguntan: “¿Qué debemos hacer?”

Pedro responde: “Conviértanse y bautícense.” Es decir: cambien de dirección y entren por la puerta. Ese día, miles aceptaron la invitación.

Luego, en la primera carta del apóstol san Pedro, escuchamos: “Por sus heridas ustedes han sido curados.” Esta es otra señal de la voz del Buen Pastor: sana.

Jesús no nos obliga, no nos empuja con miedo; nos atrae con amor, con un amor que llega hasta la cruz.

Hoy la pregunta es muy concreta: ¿Qué voz estás siguiendo?

¿La voz que te dice que no vales suficiente?

¿La voz que te invita al rencor o al egoísmo?

¿La voz que te hace creer que estás solo?

¿O la voz de Cristo que te llama por tu nombre, que te ama, que te guía?

Jesús dice: “Yo he venido para que tengan vida, y la tengan en abundancia.” No una vida mediocre, sino plena, verdadera.

Pero esa vida comienza con una decisión: escuchar su voz y atravesar la puerta.

Tal vez hoy necesitas convertirte de algo concreto.

Tal vez necesitas volver a la oración y aprender a escuchar.

Tal vez necesitas confiar en medio del sufrimiento.

Recuerda esto: no estás perdido.
Eres conocido.
Eres amado.
Y la puerta está abierta.

 

HOMILY – Good Friday – Pilate’s Wife

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Ever heard the story of the wife of Pontius Pilate?

She played an important, yet understated role in the crucifixion of Jesus.

Her warning to her husband not to have anything to do with Jesus should stand as a warning for all husbands to listen to your wives!

About the time Jesus was being brought in, we hear the wife of Pontius Pilate was having a troublesome, fitful sleep. 

Legend has it she was being haunted in a dream by Jesus.

Historians say her name was Claudia Procula.

Greek scholar and early Christian theologian Origen was the first to mention THAT Claudia may have converted to Christianity.  

In fact, in the Eastern Orthodox Church and Ethiopian Orthodox Church, she is known as St. Claudia.

In last Sunday’s Passion narrative, we heard this passage:

“While he was still seated on the bench, his wife sent him a message, “Have nothing to do with that righteous man. I suffered much in a dream (last night) because of him.” 

Some may have a vivid image of Claudia from the movie The Passion of the Christ.  In it she is seen pleading with her husband Pontius Pilate to leave this innocent, holy man alone.

When she realizes her failure to prevent Christ’s crucifixion, we see her tearfully and shamefully giving the mother of Jesus a fresh, white linen to clean up the blood of her Son's scourging. 

Catholic philosopher and director of the New Saint Thomas Institute Director Dr. Taylor Marshall offers an interesting perspective on Claudia.

  In an examination of the tradition of Pontius Pilate’s wife, he found something remarkable, something astounding.

 He said “there is a ‘tradition’ that Pontius Pilate’s wife Claudia Procula had a dream of billions of people chanting ‘sub Pontio Pilato’ over and over and over.”

Anyone remember their Latin? 

What’s the meaning of the word “sub?” 

(That’s right.) The word means “under.”

In her dream she was hearing billions of people chanting “under Pontius Pilate.”

 Now think about that for a moment. Sound familiar?

 How many Catholics exist on the planet today?  

Estimates now place the number at about 1.4 billion.  There are another 300-million Orthodox Christians in the world today.  Add to that all the Catholics and Orthodox Christians who have come before us. And you have Billions! Billions of people chanting “under Pontius Pilate.”

 Starting to see what Dr. Marshall is seeing?  Or better yet hear what Dr. Marshall is hearing?

In both the Nicene Creed and Apostles Creed there is the same line: “under Pontius Pilate.” 

Dr. Marshall contends “What (Claudia) was hearing (in her dream) was the billions of Christians who recite ‘He was crucified (and suffered) under Pontius Pilate’” in the two Creeds voiced each week by Catholics and Orthodox Christians around the world. 

Dr. Marshall thinks, “Most women would be honored to know that their husband’s name would be on the lips of billions over a period of 20 centuries. But in the case of this Prefect of Judea, it is the notorious reputation of being the … cause of Christ’s crucifixion” that haunted her sleep and eventually may have converted her to living a Christian life.

As Dr. Marshall reminds us “Pontius Pilate’s name is in the Creeds because it anchors the life of Christ into human history, specifically Roman history.”

The story of Jesus has reverberated throughout two thousand years of human history.

Today, we do not rush past the cross. We stand before it. We venerate it. Because by the wood of the cross, Jesus did something remarkable for us. He opened the doors of heaven for all his believers. He reconciled us to God the Father. He set us free from the chains and bonds of the evil one in our lives.

His suffering is for us. That served as a wake-up call for a pampered and privileged Claudia Procula.   

Jesus hopes it serves as a wake-up call for all of us as well.