Sunday, August 16, 2026

HOMILY – 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Walking The Way

                                                      _______________________

I am about to depart for "The Road That Changes the Heart."

There is an old saying among pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago: "The Camino doesn't give you what you want; it gives you what you need."

Millions begin the journey believing they are walking toward Santiago de Compostela in Spain. Yet by the end, many discover that the real destination was never merely the tomb of Saint James. The true pilgrimage was the transformation of the heart. 

Nearly a thousand years ago, the Codex Calixtinus, often called the first great pilgrim's guidebook, did much more than describe roads, bridges, churches, and dangers. It taught pilgrims that every step toward Santiago was meant to become a step toward God. The book warned travelers about greed, impatience, and pride. It encouraged hospitality, prayer, and perseverance. Along the road, strangers became companions, and the journey itself became a school of conversion.

That ancient wisdom opens today's Scriptures beautifully.

The prophet Isaiah proclaims God's astonishing promise: "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples." Israel had long understood itself as God's chosen people. But through Isaiah, God reveals that His covenant is not meant to build walls but to open doors. Foreigners who love the Lord are welcomed. The Temple is not the private possession of one nation but the gathering place of every people who seek God. 

This is precisely what pilgrims experienced on the 500-mile Camino de Santiago across Northern Spain. A French merchant walked beside a German monk. A Portuguese farmer shared bread with an Italian noble. People who could scarcely speak one another's language discovered that prayer, mercy, and shared hardship formed a deeper communion than words. The road became a living image of Isaiah's prophecy: one family gathered from many nations.

Saint Paul, in today's Letter to the Romans, reflects on that very mystery. He knows God's election of Israel remains irrevocable, for "the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable." Yet God's mercy has become even wider, embracing the Gentiles so that ultimately He may show mercy to all.

Paul refuses to see salvation as a competition between insiders and outsiders. Instead, he sees history as the unfolding of divine mercy.

The Camino teaches the same lesson.

           Every pilgrim begins carrying a backpack. At first, it seems manageable. But after several days, every unnecessary item becomes painfully heavy. Shoes blister the feet. Shoulders ache. Eventually, pilgrims learn to leave behind what they thought they could not live without.

My sisters and brothers, our spiritual lives are much the same.

Many of us carry invisible burdens: old resentments, prejudices, fears, the need always to be right, the temptation to decide who deserves God's love and who does not. The farther we walk with Christ, the more He gently asks us to put these burdens down.

That is exactly what happens in today's Gospel.

Jesus enters the region of Tyre and Sidon — Gentile territory. A Canaanite woman approaches Him, pleading for her daughter's healing. At first, Jesus seems to refuse her. His silence and His words shock us.

But the conversation is not ending with rejection; it is leading toward revelation.

The woman refuses to walk away.

She kneels.

She trusts.

She answers with remarkable humility: "Even the dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters' table."

Jesus then declares one of the greatest compliments found anywhere in the Gospels: "Woman, great is your faith!"

The outsider becomes the example.

The foreigner becomes the teacher.

The one presumed far from God is revealed to be astonishingly close to Him.

Like a pilgrim who refuses to abandon the journey despite rain, exhaustion, or steep mountains, this woman keeps walking toward Jesus. Every obstacle becomes another step of faith.

The Codex Calixtinus repeatedly reminds pilgrims that the road itself tests the soul. Hospitality offered or withheld, patience practiced or abandoned, generosity shown or refused — these reveal who we truly are. The Camino is never simply about reaching Santiago, Spain. It is about allowing the journey to remake the pilgrim.

So too with the Christian life.

The Church herself is a people on pilgrimage. We have not yet reached our heavenly Jerusalem. Along the way, Christ continually asks us difficult questions:

Will we welcome the stranger?

Will we recognize faith when it appears in unexpected places?

Will we allow God's mercy to become larger than our own expectations?

Will we trust Him when the road becomes difficult?

Saint James, whose shrine has drawn pilgrims for centuries, preached a Gospel that demanded action. Faith was never merely something to possess; it was something to live. Every step on the Camino became a prayer because every step required trust.

Every Mass is something like the Camino.

We arrive carrying burdens.

We walk together though we come from different places.

We receive food for the journey.

Then we are sent out again—not simply to admire Christ, but to follow Him.

At the end of the Camino, pilgrims receive the Compostela, a certificate marking the completion of the journey. Yet seasoned pilgrims often say that finishing the Camino is actually only the beginning. The road continues at home, where the lessons of the pilgrimage must become everyday life.

The same is true of the Eucharist.

The dismissal is not the end of worship but the beginning of mission.

Today Christ invites us to become pilgrims of mercy. Like Isaiah, may we believe God's house is open to every nation. Like Paul, may we trust that God's mercy is greater than human divisions. Like the Canaanite woman, may we persevere with humble and courageous faith. And like the countless pilgrims described in the Codex Calixtinus, may every step we take bring us closer not only to a holy place, but to the Sacred Heart of Christ, who walks beside us until our pilgrimage ends in the eternal homeland.

You may remember that I walked half of the Camino de Santiago in 2024. Next month, I return to finish the second half of my pilgrimage. I would be happy to carry your prayers with me on the journey. And I ask for your prayers as well.

 

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Homilia - XVII Domingo Ordinario (Spanish & English) - El regalo

                                                _________________________

¿Por qué vale la pena dejarlo todo? 

Hay una pregunta que toda persona responde, no con palabras, sino con la manera en que vive:

¿Por qué vale la pena dejarlo todo?

Muchos de nosotros conocemos a personas que dejaron todo atrás. Cruzaron fronteras, aprendieron otro idioma, aceptaron trabajos difíciles, se perdieron cumpleaños, guardaron su soledad y soportaron años de sacrificio.

¿Por qué?  ¿Por qué?

Porque creyeron que había algo más valioso esperando a sus hijos que aquello que estaban dejando atrás.

Nadie hace un sacrificio así, a menos que haya encontrado un tesoro.

Y eso es precisamente de lo que Jesús nos habla hoy.

“El Reino de los cielos se parece a un tesoro escondido en un campo… y también a un comerciante que busca perlas finas”.

Notemos algo importante.

El hombre no está triste cuando vende todo lo que tiene.

Está lleno de alegría.

Porque cuando uno descubre algo que no tiene precio, aquello que entrega ya no parece una pérdida.

El problema no es que seguir a Cristo cueste demasiado.

El problema es que, a veces, no comprendemos cuánto vale realmente Cristo.

El rey Salomón sí lo comprendió.

Cuando Dios le ofreció concederle lo que pidiera, Salomón no pidió dinero.

No pidió poder.

No pidió una larga vida.

Pidió sabiduría.

¿Por qué?

Porque sabía que, si tenía sabiduría, todo lo demás encontraría su lugar correcto.

Muchas personas pasan la vida pidiéndole a Dios un mejor trabajo, una casa más grande, documentos legales, mejor salud o éxito para sus hijos.

Ninguna de estas cosas es mala.

Pero Salomón nos enseña a pedir primero un corazón que sepa reconocer a Dios.

Porque cuando nuestro corazón le pertenece a Dios, podemos recibir sus bendiciones sin permitir que esas bendiciones ocupen el lugar de Dios.

San Pablo nos ofrece también una promesa muy hermosa:

“Sabemos que todas las cosas contribuyen para el bien de los que aman a Dios”.

San Pablo no dice que todo lo que sucede sea bueno.

La enfermedad no es buena.

La división familiar no es buena.

Perder el trabajo no es bueno.

Estar separados de nuestros seres queridos no es bueno.

Pero Dios es tan poderoso que puede tomar incluso nuestras lágrimas y entretejerlas dentro de su plan de salvación.

Muchas de nuestras familias han vivido algo parecido.

Tal vez nunca imaginamos vivir en este país.

Tal vez llegamos con miedo.

Tal vez la vida ha sido más difícil de lo que esperábamos.

Sin embargo, muchos podemos mirar hacia atrás y decir:

“Dios ha estado con nosotros en cada paso del camino”.

No porque la vida haya sido fácil.

Sino porque Cristo nunca nos ha abandonado.

Después, Jesús añade otra imagen.

Una red recoge peces de toda clase.

Solamente al final son separados.

Esto nos recuerda algo que muchas veces olvidamos.

La Iglesia no es un museo para personas perfectas.

Es una red que recoge pecadores que están aprendiendo a convertirse en santos.

En cada parroquia hay personas generosas y personas egoístas.

Hay creyentes fuertes y creyentes que están luchando con su fe.

Hay personas que acaban de llegar y otras que llevan aquí varias generaciones.

Todos seguimos siendo formados por la misericordia de Dios.

Nuestra tarea no es juzgar quién merece estar dentro de la red.

Nuestra tarea es permanecer en ella.

Por eso, hoy Jesús nos pregunta a cada uno:

¿Cuál es tu tesoro?

Si alguien observara tu calendario, la manera en que gastas tu dinero, tus conversaciones, tus preocupaciones y tus sueños…

¿qué pensaría que es lo más importante para ti?

Para algunos, puede ser el dinero.

Para otros, el éxito.

Para otros, la comodidad.

Incluso las cosas buenas —nuestra familia, nuestro trabajo y nuestras tradiciones— pueden ocupar poco a poco el lugar que solamente le pertenece a Dios.

El Reino de Dios no es un tesoro más entre muchos otros.

Es el tesoro que da sentido a todos los demás.

Cuando Cristo ocupa el primer lugar, amamos mejor a nuestra familia.

Somos más honestos en el trabajo.

Tenemos más paciencia con nuestros hijos.

Perdonamos más dentro del matrimonio.

Somos más generosos con los pobres.

Y vivimos con mayor paz en los momentos de incertidumbre.

Eso es lo que sucede cuando Cristo se convierte en nuestro mayor tesoro.

Hoy, cuando nos acerquemos a recibir la Eucaristía, estaremos haciendo algo extraordinario.

El hombre del Evangelio encontró un tesoro escondido en un campo.

Nosotros no tenemos que buscar en un campo.

El Tesoro viene hacia nosotros.

Escondido bajo la apariencia de un sencillo pedazo de pan está Jesucristo mismo, el tesoro más grande que el mundo ha recibido.

Que nunca nos acostumbremos tanto a la Eucaristía que olvidemos Quién nos espera allí.

Y que salgamos de esta Misa con la misma alegría del hombre que encontró el tesoro, dispuestos a entregar completamente nuestro corazón a Cristo.

Porque, una vez que lo descubrimos, comprendemos que todo lo que entregamos es poco comparado con todo lo que recibimos.

Amén.

 

 

What Is Worth Losing Everything For?

There is a question that every person answers—not with words, but with the way they live.

What is worth losing everything for?

Many of us know people who left everything behind. They crossed borders, learned another language, accepted difficult jobs, missed birthdays, buried their loneliness, and endured years of sacrifice. Why?

Because they believed there was something more valuable waiting for their children than what they were leaving behind.

Nobody makes that kind of sacrifice unless they have found a treasure.

That is exactly what Jesus is talking about today.

"The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field... like a merchant searching for fine pearls."

Notice something important.

The man is not sad when he sells everything.

He is joyful.

Because when you discover something priceless, what you give up no longer feels like a loss.

The problem is not that following Christ costs too much.

The problem is that we sometimes do not realize how valuable Christ truly is.

King Solomon understood this.

When God offered him anything he desired, Solomon did not ask for money.

He did not ask for power.

He did not ask for a long life.

He asked for wisdom.

Why?

Because he knew that if he had wisdom, everything else would find its proper place.

Many people spend their lives asking God for a better job, a larger house, legal documents, better health, success for their children.

None of these are bad things.

But Solomon teaches us to ask first for a heart that knows God.

Because when our heart belongs to God, we can receive blessings without allowing blessings to replace God.

Saint Paul gives us another beautiful promise:

"We know that all things work for good for those who love God."

He does not say that everything is good.

Illness is not good.

Family division is not good.

Losing work is not good.

Being separated from loved ones is not good.

But God is so powerful that He can take even our tears and weave them into His plan of salvation.

Many of our families have experienced this.

Perhaps we never imagined living in this country.

Perhaps we arrived with fear.

Perhaps life has been harder than we expected.

Yet many of us can look back and say, "God has been with us every step."

Not because life was easy.

But because Christ never abandoned us.

Then Jesus adds another image.

A fishing net gathers fish of every kind.

Only at the end are they separated.

This reminds us of something we often forget.

The Church is not a museum for perfect people.

It is a net gathering sinners who are learning to become saints.

Every parish contains generous people and selfish people.

Strong believers and struggling believers.

People who have just arrived and people who have been here for generations.

We are all still being formed by God's mercy.

Our job is not to judge who belongs in the net.

Our job is to remain in it.

So today Jesus asks each of us:

What is your treasure?

If someone looked at your calendar, your spending, your conversations, your worries, and your dreams...

What would they conclude is your greatest treasure?

For some, it may be money.

For others, success.

For others, comfort.

Even good things—our family, our work, our traditions—can quietly take the place that belongs only to God.

The Kingdom of God is not one treasure among many.

It is the treasure that gives meaning to every other treasure.

When Christ comes first, we love our families better.

We become more honest at work.

We become more patient with our children.

More forgiving in marriage.

More generous with the poor.

More peaceful in times of uncertainty.

That is what happens when Christ becomes our greatest treasure.

Today, when we come forward to receive the Eucharist, we are doing something extraordinary.

The man in the Gospel found a treasure hidden in a field.

We do not have to search through a field.

The Treasure comes to us.

Hidden under the appearance of simple bread is Jesus Christ Himself—the greatest treasure the world has ever received.

May we never become so accustomed to the Eucharist that we forget Who is waiting for us there.

And may we leave this Mass with the joy of the man who found the treasure, ready to give our hearts completely to Christ.

Because once we discover Him, we realize that whatever we surrender is small compared with what we receive.

Amen.

HOMILY – 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time – If You Build It…

                                                   _______________________

"If You Build It, he will come."

One of the most memorable lines in movie history comes from Field of Dreams. Ray Kinsella, an ordinary Iowa farmer, hears a mysterious voice whisper, "If you build it, he will come."

It's an absurd request.

He's told to plow under a perfectly good corn field and build a baseball diamond. His family needs the income from the crop. The move puts his family in financial peril. His neighbors think he's lost his mind. There's no guarantee that anything will happen. Yet, little by little, Ray acts—not because he understands, but because he trusts.

Faith often looks exactly like that.

Today's readings invite us to ask: What is God asking us to build?

In the First Book of Kings, Solomon has just become king. He could ask for military strength, wealth, fame, or a long life. Instead, he asks for one thing: an understanding heart—a heart that knows how to listen to God.

That request delights the Lord.

Why? Because wisdom is the foundation upon which every other blessing is built.

We often pray, "Lord, fix this problem. Heal this illness. Change this situation."

God often answers with something even greater.

"I'll give you wisdom."

Because wisdom changes not merely our circumstances—it changes us.

In Field of Dreams, Ray doesn't know why he's building the field. He doesn't know the whole plan. He simply takes the next faithful step.

That sounds remarkably like the Christian life.

Most of us would prefer God to hand us the entire blueprint. We want to know exactly where He's leading before we take the first step.

But discipleship doesn't work that way.

God usually gives enough light for today's decision, not tomorrow's.

St. Paul says in Romans, "We know that all things work for good for those who love God."

Notice what he does not say.

He doesn't say everything that happens is good.

Cancer isn't good.

Loss isn't good.

Betrayal isn't good.

Death isn't good.

But God is so wise that He can weave even suffering into salvation.

Looking back, many of us can see moments that made no sense at the time but became turning points of grace.

Only afterward do we recognize that God was writing a story much larger than we imagined.

That is exactly what Ray discovers.

The baseball field was never really about baseball.

It was about reconciliation.

It was about healing a broken relationship with his father.

The miracle wasn't simply that long dead ballplayers would appear.

The miracle was that a son received back the father he had never stopped loving.

The scene that makes most people cry is when he introduces his father to his wife and child for the first time, calling him simply by his first name, John. He knows its his father, but doesn’t know if his father knows this is his son.

And then in a moment that causes most men to ball like babies, he asks, “Dad, do you want to have a catch?” And the two do the simplest of things, they throw a baseball to each other as the movie ends in a scene of reconciliation.

Isn't that the Gospel?

God is always building fields where reconciliation can happen.

Today's Gospel offers several short parables.

A man discovers a treasure buried in a field.

A merchant finds a pearl of great price.

In both cases, they sell everything they have because they realize they've found something worth infinitely more.

Notice that Jesus never says following Him is inexpensive.

It costs everything.

But He also says it's worth everything.

The Kingdom of God is not simply another item we add to our busy lives.

It becomes the reason for our lives.

Every saint has made that same discovery.

St. Francis let go of wealth.

St. Thérèse embraced hiddenness.

St. Maximilian Kolbe surrendered even his life in a Nazi concentration camp.

Each found the treasure hidden in Christ.

Each realized there was nothing worth keeping if it meant losing Him.

Sometimes we think surrender means losing.

The Gospel says surrender is how we finally discover what we've been searching for all along.

Ray had no idea how God would fulfill the promise.

He only knew he had to be faithful.

Faithfulness always comes before fruitfulness.

We live in a culture obsessed with measurable results.

How many followers?

How many likes?

How much success?

God asks different questions.

Were you faithful?

Did you love?

Did you forgive?

Did you listen?

Did you build what I asked you to build?

Parents build homes where faith is lived.

Teachers build minds.

Priests build communities.

Grandparents build family traditions.

Every Christian is called to build something eternal, often in quiet ways that the world never applauds.

Perhaps today God is whispering something into your heart.

Maybe it's time to forgive someone

or return to Confession.

or pray for your spouse or child.

Maybe it's time to stop postponing the vocation or ministry God has placed before you.

Maybe, like Solomon, it's simply time to ask for wisdom before asking for anything else.

We don't always understand why God asks what He asks.

Neither did Ray.

Neither did Solomon.

Neither did the saints.

But every one of them discovered that God never wastes the trust we place in Him.

The treasure is real.

The pearl is priceless.

And the Kingdom is worth everything.

So when you hear the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit calling you to take that next faithful step, don't wait until everything makes sense.

Build the field.

God will take care of the rest.

(For St. Anne’s Mission ONLY on Feast Day celebration)

This weekend the Church also celebrates the Feast of St. Anne, the mother of the Blessed Virgin Mary. We know very little about her life from Scripture, yet we know the greatest fruit of her faithful "building." Together with St. Joachim, she helped form the heart of the young Mary, teaching her to listen to God's voice and trust His promises. Long before Mary would say her great "yes" at the Annunciation, someone had quietly built the field where that faith could grow. St. Anne reminds us that God's greatest works often begin in hidden places—in the patient love of parents and grandparents, in daily prayer, and in ordinary acts of faithfulness that prepare future saints. Like Solomon, she sought wisdom; like the merchant, she treasured what mattered most; and through her quiet fidelity, God prepared the way for the Savior of the world.