HOMILY – Solemnity of Christ the King 2025

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Today the Church gives us one of the most paradoxical feasts of the entire liturgical year – the celebration of a King who reigns from a cross, whose crown is made of thorns, and whose throne is an instrument of torture.

And yet, this King is the One through whom all things were created, the One in whom “all the fullness was pleased to dwell,” as St. Paul tells us in Colossians.

To understand this mystery, the Scriptures today take us on a kind of journey—a journey from the expectations of an earthly king, to the revelation of a cosmic king, to the shocking unveiling of what God’s kingship really looks like.

First we hear of The People’s King. (2 Samuel 5:1–3)

In our first reading from 2^nd Samual, all the tribes of Israel come to David and say, “You are our bone and our flesh.” They are acknowledging him as one of their own—someone who understands their struggles, someone who shares their humanity, someone who has walked the hills they walk and fought the battles they face.

And so they anoint David as king.

But David, for all his greatness, is a fragile king—a man of mistakes, sin, and limitations. The kingship Israel longed for, the kingship humanity longs for, cannot be satisfied by any earthly ruler.

Their yearning reaches forward to another King—One who is not only “bone and flesh” like His people, but the Word made flesh. Not simply a shepherd of Israel, but the Shepherd of the entire cosmos.

The second image we hear is of The Cosmic King. (Colossians 1:12–20)

St. Paul gives us one of the most soaring hymns in all his letters—a declaration of Christ’s kingship that goes far beyond politics, armies, or nations.

He says:

·        Christ is “the image of the invisible God.”

·        All things “were created through Him and for Him.”

·        He is “before all things, and in Him all things hold together.”

·        He is the One whose blood brings peace.

In other words:

Christ’s kingship is not something that began; it is something that is. It existed before creation, sustains creation, and is the destiny of creation.

But then we reach the Gospel—and the shock is that this King, the One who holds galaxies in place, hangs crucified between two criminals.

What kind of King is this?

The King on the Cross. (Luke 23:35–43)

The Gospel confronts us with the most unexpected royal scene imaginable. Instead of a golden throne, we see a wooden cross. Instead of royal attendants, we see soldiers and a crowd mocking Him. Instead of a crown adorned with jewels, we see sharp thorns pressed into His bloodied skull.

And in this humiliating scene, someone makes a request. Not a soldier. Not a disciple. Not a priest or prophet.

But a criminal.

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

He sees what nobody else sees:

Not a defeated man.
Not a failed messiah.
Not a doomed rebel.

He sees a King.

A King whose kingdom is not defended by violence but revealed through mercy.

A King whose victory is not won by shedding others’ blood but by shedding His own.

A King who reigns not by domination but by self-giving love.

And Jesus reveals the heart of His kingship in one simple promise:

“Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

This is the King we celebrate:

A King who remembers.
A King who forgives.
A King who lifts the guilty into paradise.
A King whose power is love—love stronger than sin, stronger than violence, stronger even than death.

So, what Does This Mean for Us?

To proclaim Christ as King is to ask:
Who—or what—really rules my life?

Is it:

·        fear?

·        resentment?

·        success?

·        comfort?

·        the approval of others?

·        my own plans and expectations?

Christ the King invites us to entrust our lives to a different kind of rule:

A kingship that heals instead of harms.
A kingship that remembers instead of condemns.
A kingship that leads not to power but to peace.

And like the good thief, all Christ seeks from us is the

opening of the heart that says:
“Jesus, remember me.”

Because when we give Him that small opening, the King does what only He can do:

He turns lostness into belonging.
He turns sin into mercy.
He turns despair into hope.
He turns death into life.

My sisters and brothers, today, as we end one liturgical year and prepare to begin another, the Church gives us this feast as a reminder:

Christ is King— not in the way the world understands kingship, but in the only way that truly saves.

He reigns from a cross so that He may reign in our hearts. He is the King who remembers us, who forgives us, who invites us into paradise.

Starting here, starting now, starting today.

HOMILY – 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Prayer that Reaches Heaven

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           I cannot tell you how many times our MercyWatch team encounters people on the streets seeking our prayers when serving our unhoused sisters and brothers. The other things that may surprise you about those experiencing homelessness are how many say, “God Bless, you” as we hand out food, socks, blankets and other survival items. And how many ask for Rosaries of our outreach team.

Today’s readings invite us to look deeply at the heart of prayer — not the words we say, but the attitude with which we stand before God.

Sirach speaks of a God who hears the cry of the poor. Saint Paul testifies to the faithfulness of God even when others abandon him. And Jesus, in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, shows us whose prayer truly reaches heaven.

At first glance, these readings seem to come from very different worlds — the temple of Jerusalem, a Roman prison cell, and the dusty road where Jesus told stories. Yet, they converge on one profound truth: God listens to the humble heart.

1. God Does Not Play Favorites

Sirach reminds us: “The Lord is a God of justice, who knows no favorites.” The cry of the poor, the orphan, and the widow pierces the clouds. In a world where voices are often silenced by wealth, power, or pride, God’s ear is tuned to those who are overlooked.

This means our worth before God is not based on status, eloquence, or religious reputation. God is not impressed by appearances or credentials. What moves the heart of God is sincerity — the prayer that rises from honesty, from need, from love.

We might ask ourselves: when I pray, do I come before God as someone who thinks they deserve to be heard, or as someone who trusts in mercy? The answer changes everything.

2. Faithfulness in the Race

Saint Paul, writing near the end of his life, says: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” These are not the words of a man boasting in his achievements — they are the quiet confidence of someone who knows the Lord has been faithful to him.

Paul admits that at his first trial, “no one stood by me.” He was abandoned and betrayed, yet he says, “The Lord stood by me and gave me strength.” This is humility in action — not self-pity, but surrender; not pride, but gratitude.

Like the tax collector in the Gospel, Paul knew his strength came not from himself, but from grace. He had learned that every crown of glory is first shaped by the cross of endurance.

3. The Prayer That God Hears

In Jesus’ parable, two men go to the Temple to pray: one, a Pharisee — righteous, religious, respected; the other, a tax collector — despised, sinful, broken.

The Pharisee’s prayer is filled with “I”: “I thank you, I fast, I tithe.” It sounds like prayer, but it is really a self-congratulation. He does not pray to God; he prays about himself with an abundance of pride.

The tax collector, on the other hand, stands far off, cannot even lift his eyes, and whispers: “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Just seven words — but those seven words open heaven. He prays in total humility. Jesus says that man went home justified, not the other.

Why? Because humility draws mercy. The Pharisee offered God his virtues; the tax collector offered God his need. And God prefers the second gift.

In our own lives, we can be tempted to measure our holiness by comparison — like the Pharisee who looked down on others. But God is not interested in comparison; He is interested in conversion.

When we come before the Lord — whether at Mass, in the confessional, or in quiet prayer — the most powerful words we can say are often the simplest: “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.” This prayer makes room for God to be God — the God who saves, heals, and transforms.

As Pope Francis often reminded us, “The Lord never tires of forgiving us; it is we who tire of seeking His mercy.”

The readings today remind us that the prayer that reaches heaven is the prayer of the humble heart.

Like Sirach’s poor man, let us cry out with trust.
Like Paul, let us finish our race with faith.
Like the tax collector, let us stand before God in truth and in humility.

And when we do, we will find that the Lord — who shows no favorites — will lift us up, forgive us, and fill us with His peace.

HOMILY – 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time – The Chasm Between Us

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           Our MercyWatch medical team met Lazarus recently, a poor man living on the streets of Everett. Though his name was not Lazarus, it is Danny.

Danny was living on a grassy area near the I-5 freeway, out of the sight of most, but not out of the minds of our doctors and nurses.

We knew Danny from serving this elderly man in failing health at one of the temporary housing facilities we serve. But after two strokes and limited mobility, Danny found himself back on the streets struggling just to live.

The strokes impacted his right side, making it difficult to walk and limiting his ability to even feed himself with hands that weren’t working well enough to open the food our outreach teams delivered to him several times a week.

Our medical team monitored his decline over the summer with frequent visits to check-up on Danny. At the end of August, we were quite concerned that things had become acute, requiring a hospital stay. Danny was reluctant to follow the doctor’s recommendation to check-himself-in to the ER at the nearby hospital.

He had become so weak that he could barely move and a few nights more in the growing chilly nights could prove fatal.

With some gentle encouragement, Danny finally agreed.

The next day, we picked up Danny and sat with him at the ER as they checked him into the hospital. Thankfully, our Medical Director works as an ER doc at the hospital and worked to make sure Danny would be afforded the care he needed.

Sadly, this is not always the case for our unhoused friends.

Danny would spend two weeks in the hospital before being transferred to an assisted care facility nearby. Danny called it an “old folks home.”

Thanks to the care and regular meals, Danny’s health rebounded.

I wish I could say Danny was still living sheltered at the assisted care facility, but as his strength returned, so did his cantankerousness. He checked himself out (AMA – Against Medical Advice) after two weeks there. He’s now back on the streets and we are keeping an eye on his well-being.  Ready to act if needed.

Our MercyWatch team did exactly what the Gospel calls each and every one of us to do. Have eyes to see and hearts to act to care for the poorest among us.  

My brothers and sisters in Christ, today’s readings confront us with a stark and uncomfortable truth: our lives can be filled with abundant blessings, yet empty of the very love that gives our lives meaning. In other words, devoid of mercy for the Lazarus’ of the world.

The prophet Amos warns the wealthy of his time: “Woe to the complacent in Zion.” They recline on ivory couches, feast on lambs and calves, sing idle songs, drink wine from bowls—while the ruin of their people unfolds around them. They live in comfort but without compassion. And Amos says their security will not save them; they will be the first to go into exile when the conquering Assyrians invade.

Centuries later, Jesus tells a parable of another man of wealth—a man so comfortable that he doesn’t even notice the beggar Lazarus at his gate, covered in sores, longing for scraps from his table. And after death, the roles are reversed: the rich man is in torment while Lazarus rests in Abraham’s bosom. Between them, Jesus says, there is a “great chasm” no one can cross.

That chasm of indifference didn’t appear by accident. It was dug day by day in the rich man’s lifetime—every time he stepped over Lazarus, every time he ignored his suffering, every time he chose self-indulgence over mercy.

Isn’t that how the great chasms of our world are dug?

·       Between the wealthy and the poor

·       Between the comfortable and the suffering

·       Between our faith on Sunday and our choices on Monday

We don’t need to be millionaires to fall into this trap. Even in ordinary lives, it’s easy to live a life turned inward, focused on our wants, our routines, our comfort—and to become blind to the Lazarus at our own gate.

St. Paul, writing to Timothy, gives the antidote:

 

“Pursue righteousness, devotion, faith, love, patience, and gentleness. Compete well for the faith. Lay hold of eternal life.”

 

This is the opposite of complacency. It is an active faith—one that sees the needs of those around us and responds with love. It refuses to let selfishness or comfort numb our hearts.

Paul reminds us that God alone “dwells in unapproachable light,” and we are invited to share in that life. But we cannot cross the chasm to Him if we keep digging deeper ones here on earth.

So, how to bridge the chasm? The rich man begged Abraham to send someone from the dead to warn his brothers. Abraham’s reply is haunting: “They have Moses and the prophets; let them listen to them.”

We have even more—we have Christ risen from the dead. And He warns us in love: Don’t wait until it’s too late.

Every act of mercy, every choice to see the forgotten, every time we put someone else’s need before our comfort—we place a plank across that chasm. And over time, with Christ as the bridge, the gap between heaven and earth begins to close in our own hearts.

So, my sisters and brothers, let’s live with eyes open and hearts ready. Let’s notice the Lazarus at our gate—in our families, our parish, our community, even in the hidden corners of our world.

Because when we cross the chasm of indifference with love, we are already walking the bridge to eternal life.

May Christ open our eyes, strengthen our hearts, and help us to live lives full of compassion as we compete well for the faith—until the day we rest in the arms of the God who is Love itself. Amen.

 

HOMILY – XXI Sunday in Ordinary Time 2025 – Follow Jesus

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          For weeks, Jesus has been trying to get us to focus on ourselves and our actions, not the actions of others.

He’s cautioned us about greed in his parable of the rich man who piled up excess grain. He told us the story of a prudent servant who did everything that the Master commanded, reminding us that much will be required of the person entrusted with much and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.

Father Joseph preached last week that to pray that others change their ways is self-centered prayer. Praying that we change ourselves bears much more fruit.

The Prophet Isaiah sets up this week’s message by reminding us that the Lord “knows (our) works and (our) thoughts.”

Yes, the Lord knows us well.

Isaiah’s words this week are lifegiving and foreshadow Christ gathering all the nations to worship in the New Jerusalem. Not just the Israelites who saw themselves as blessed solely based on God’s covenant with Abraham.

Isaiah reminds those returning from Babylonian exile of their need to return to the covenant, to return to their unique relationship with God, to do the things commanded by the covenant.

We’re hearing the uplifting parts of this warning in Isaiah. But read ahead and you will see what happens to those who do not return to the covenant.

One bible scholar says, “This bright prospect has a dark side too. The corpses of the wicked will burn and be eaten by worms forever, as a spectacle for the rest of humanity… this passage is rightly seen as a precedent for hell, because it attempts to describe an unending punishment of the wicked.^[1]”

This is not a threat, but a reminder of the forever life we have with Jesus, and the torment that will come for those who do not follow God’s designs for “new heavens and a new earth.”

           I know this sounds a little fire and brimstone. But in the context of this reading, we can now see what Jesus is trying to teach us this weekend.

Jesus gives us a challenging parable, reminding us that just because we come to Mass every week and enjoy fellowship together, it is not enough. We are commanded to do more.

Former Seattle Auxiliary Bishop Daniel Mueggenborg wrote about this passage, saying, “no one has ever been declared a saint because of what they know (or how they worship), but because of how their lives were conformed to Jesus.”

This transformation should be a lifelong pursuit for all Christians. “If people are not striving for holiness each day, then they have become complacent in their discipleship.”

Complacency is the greatest threat to our life of faith.

Have we allowed ourselves to become complacent Christians? (PAUSE)

Catholic nun Sr. Peg Dolan once wrote, “each of us is a word of God spoken only once.” Let me repeat that, “each of us is a word of God spoken only once.”

Sr. Peg defined what that means, saying, ”We have a word to speak with our lives, and if we do not speak it, it may never be heard." 

What is the word you have to speak with your life?

What mission has God uniquely called you to fulfill in your efforts to strive for holiness?

It is different for each one of us and an opportunity for us to take this to our daily prayer life as we break out of our complacency and strive for deeper holiness.

Today, Jesus presents us with an image of the “narrow gate” and challenges us to strive to enter it with our thoughts, words, and actions in this earthly life.

In the time of Jesus, the “narrow gate” was the only passageway into ancient cities. The idea was that soldiers needed to dismount their horses, shed their armor, discard excess baggage in order to enter the city.

“The narrow door was meant to prevent enemy fighters from entering the city in a hostile way.”

This, my brothers and sisters, is a great way to understand what Jesus is telling us in this parable. “To enter through the (narrow gate) is to enter through the person of Jesus… This process involves shedding what should not be part of the Lord’s kingdom, letting go of our false senses of security and dropping the baggage that weighs us down and keeps us from following the Lord in freedom.”

Jesus uses as his example a story of a Master who has locked the door, leaving many outside, pounding on the door, saying, but “We ate with you and drank in your company; (and) you taught us” Lord.

 The Master says, “I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evil doers!”

This troubling passage should be a reminder that it is not enough to just show up at Mass, eat and drink, and then return to your life unchanged.

Jesus wants us to remember that when “We receive His body and Blood in the Eucharist and we listen to Him speak His word in Scripture… it is not enough to receive those gifts of grace. We also have to respond to those gifts of grace.”

We need to become Doers of Good and never Doers of Evil.

Too many Christians are only concerned about what God can do for us. The proper response to the gifts of grace given us is to respond by becoming the living presence of Christ in the world today.

We must conform our life to Jesus each and every day and never grow weary of striving for holiness in all our words, all our thoughts, all our actions. This is the personal conversion we are each called to pray for every day.

Today, the Lord is revealing the shallowness of those who think they already have a privileged place in the Kingdom of God. “This false belief is known as spiritual elitism and is dangerous.” This is a temptation we must resist.

 “(Today’s) passage challenges us to recognize that the blessings we receive require from us a greater response and not a lesser response.”

If the last can become first in the time of Jesus, if a sinner suffering on the cross next to Jesus can turn to the Lord, then it is also true that the first can become the last if we are spiritually blind to the need to constantly strive for holiness every day, by working on our own sinfulness, our own complacency, our own spiritual elitism.

For each of us, there is plenty to work on there.

I leave you with this prayer from the Catherine of Siena Institute,

“Jesus, you are the Lord of the Harvest and the Lord of Gifts. Grant us the grace to see the harvest before us. Help us to know our charisms you and the Holy Spirit give us to join you in this mission. Give us the courage to lift our gaze, to say yes to these gifts and to go where you send us. We ask this in your Most Holy Name. Amen”

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^[1] Dianne Bergant and Robert J. Karris, The Collegeville Bible Commentary: Based on the New American Bible with Revised New Testament (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1989), 452.

HOMILY – XVII Sunday in Ordinary Time 2025 – Holy Rosary

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          This weekend we have the perfect reflection of the rosary in the Gospel and the feast (day) of Mary’s mother, St. Anne.

Doubt the power of the Holy Rosary?

Some in our faith see it as an antiquated practice for the superstitious that bears no fruit. Others view it as a daily practice, important to the faith that bears much fruit.

Wherever you fall on this spectrum, let me share a story about the power of the rosary.

It comes from a famous actor who grew up just north of here in Mount Vernon.

Back in 1997, actor Jim Caviezel auditioned for a role in Terrence Malick’s upcoming World War Two drama ‘The Thin Red Line.’  He had made a decision that if this role didn’t pan out, he was going to hang up his acting career.  

One afternoon he was called to Malick’s home to talk about the role. He knew that this conversation would make or break him as an actor.

So, he prayed the rosary in his car outside Malick’s home. His wife Kerri had taught him how to pray it. He was using her grandmother’s rosary, a precious antique heirloom.  

As he was in the fourth Glorious Mystery, he realized he was already late for his interview. So, he quickly finished his prayer and prepared to walk up to the door, 10-minutes late.

As he hopped out of the car with the rosary still in his hands, he decided it best to leave it behind in the car.

But he got a feeling in his heart that he needed to take the rosary with him to the interview

As he rang the doorbell, a woman answered the door. He assumed it was the maid as she was wearing a miraculous medal to the Virgin Mary around her neck. 

Caviezel said to the woman, “So, you’re Catholic?”  She said, “No, I’m Episcopalian. Come on in.”

This “maid” takes him in and shows him the house, a beautiful Spanish hacienda. As he was marveling at the beautiful ornate ceiling, he got a strong feeling in his heart to give the woman his precious rosary, handing it over and saying, “This is for you ma’am.”

She was startled and said, “Why did you do that?” with tears welling up in her eyes.

She told Caviezel the friend who gave her the miraculous medal of the Virgin Mary also had given her a rosary that she got from Mother Theresa, but she lost it.

And this morning, she was praying God would send her another rosary. 

This woman collapsed into tears, Caviezel stood there shellshocked as Terrence Malick walked in the room and said, “Honey, what’s wrong?” 

The woman was not the maid, but the director’s dear wife.

After things calmed down, Malick and Caviezel talked and after the chat he felt that he got the part.

When he got home that night, Caviezel told his wife, “I have some good news and some bad news.  The good news is I think I got the part. The bad news is granny’s rosary is gone.”

 Jim Caviezel believes the intercession of Our Lady led to him getting his first major role in the Thin Red Line. 

And there’s something else that came from prayer that day. Caviezel got a call from his agent who had just heard from actor and director Mel Gibson. He wanted to talk to Caviezel for a major movie he was casting.

Mel Gibson reportedly wanted the guy whose initials were JC and who just happens to be 33 years old to star in his new movie as Jesus, in the film The Passion of the Christ.

Whenever Jim Caviezel tells this story publicly, he asks his audience, “Do you think that’s a coincidence?  I don’t think so either.”

What Jesus is teaching today is quite beautiful. A simple prayer that has echoed through our faith for two thousand years.

As one bible scholar put it, “prayer should have… the simplicity of a son speaking to his Father… ‘To pray is to talk with God… About Him, about yourself: joys, sorrows, successes and failures, noble ambitions, daily worries, even your weaknesses! And acts of thanksgiving and petition—and love and reparation. In short, to get to know him and to get to know yourself: ‘to get acquainted!’ ” (St Josemaría Escrivá, The Way, 91).^[1]

In the first reading, we hear Abraham praying to God to spare the people of Sodom, if he could find just 10 innocent residents. His prayer is bold and direct.

Personal, bold, direct. This is how we are to pray to God.

And the words of the Our Father and Hail Mary will be our guide. How appropriate that this weekend we celebrate the mother of Mary, St. Anne. No doubt her prayers were answered by her giving birth to the Immaculate Conception.

The message this weekend is about persistence in prayer. To not be afraid to ask for what you want. To pray the rosary often. And to trust in Jesus.

 

HOMILÍA – XVII Domingo Ordinario 2025 – Santo Rosario

Este fin de semana tenemos el reflejo perfecto del rosario en el Evangelio y la fiesta de la madre de María, Santa Ana.

¿Dudas del poder del Santo Rosario?

Algunos dentro de nuestra fe lo ven como una práctica anticuada, supersticiosa y sin fruto. Otros lo consideran una práctica diaria, esencial para su fe y que da muchos frutos.

No importa en qué parte del espectro estés, déjame contarte una historia sobre el poder del Rosario.

Viene de un actor famoso que creció no muy lejos de aquí, en Mount Vernon.

En 1997, el actor Jim Caviezel audicionó para un papel en el drama de la Segunda Guerra Mundial dirigido por Terrence Malick, La Delgada Línea Roja (The Thin Red Line).  Había tomado una decisión: si no conseguía ese papel, iba a dejar su carrera como actor.

Una tarde lo llamaron a casa de Malick para hablar del papel. Sabía que esa conversación decidiría su futuro como actor.

Así que rezó el Rosario en su coche, justo afuera de la casa de Malick. Su esposa Kerri le había enseñado a rezarlo. Estaba usando el Rosario de la abuela de ella, una reliquia muy antigua y valiosa.

Cuando iba en el cuarto misterio glorioso, se dio cuenta de que ya llegaba tarde a la entrevista. Así que terminó rápidamente la oración y se preparó para tocar la puerta… con 10 minutos de retraso.

Al bajarse del coche con el Rosario aún en las manos, pensó que lo mejor sería dejarlo ahí. Pero sintió muy fuerte en su corazón que debía llevarlo consigo.

Tocó el timbre y una mujer le abrió la puerta. Pensó que era la señora de limpieza, porque llevaba una medalla milagrosa de la Virgen María en el cuello.

Caviezel le dijo: “¿Entonces usted es católica?” Ella le respondió: “No, soy episcopal. Pasa, bienvenido.”

Esta “señora de limpieza” lo hizo pasar y le mostró la casa, una hermosa hacienda de estilo español. Mientras él admiraba el techo decorado, sintió de nuevo en el corazón que debía darle su rosario a la mujer. Se lo entregó y le dijo: “Esto es para usted, señora.”

Ella se sorprendió y le dijo con lágrimas en los ojos: “¿Por qué hizo eso?”

Le contó a Caviezel que una amiga, la misma que le dio la medalla milagrosa, también le había regalado un Rosario que venía de la Madre Teresa de Calcuta, pero lo había perdido. Esa misma mañana, le pidió a Dios en oración que le mandara otro Rosario.

La mujer se echó a llorar. Caviezel se quedó pasmado, justo cuando entró Terrence Malick en la habitación y preguntó: “¿Qué pasa, cariño?”

La mujer no era la señora de limpieza… era la esposa del director.

Después de que se calmaron las cosas, Malick y Caviezel hablaron, y después de esa charla, él sintió que había conseguido el papel.

Esa noche, al llegar a casa, Caviezel le dijo a su esposa: “Tengo una buena y una mala noticia. La buena es que creo que conseguí el papel. La mala es que el Rosario de la abuela… ya no lo tengo.”

Jim Caviezel está convencido de que fue la intercesión de Nuestra Señora la que le consiguió su primer papel importante en La Delgada Línea Roja.

Y eso no fue todo lo que pasó ese día.

Recibió una llamada de su agente: el actor y director Mel Gibson quería hablar con él para un papel importante en una película que estaba preparando.

Gibson quería a un actor con las iniciales “JC” (como Jesucristo), que tuviera 33 años (como Jesús), para protagonizar su nueva película: La Pasión de Cristo.

Cuando Caviezel cuenta esta historia en público, siempre pregunta:
“¿Creen que eso fue coincidencia? Yo tampoco lo creo.”

Lo que Jesús nos enseña hoy es algo hermoso: una oración sencilla que ha resonado en nuestra fe por dos mil años.

Como dice un estudioso de la Biblia:

“Orar debe tener la sencillez de un hijo que habla con su Padre… Orar es hablar con Dios: de Él, de ti mismo: alegrías, penas, logros, fracasos, aspiraciones nobles, preocupaciones del día a día, incluso tus debilidades. Y también actos de agradecimiento, de petición, de amor y reparación. En resumen: conocerlo… y conocerte.”
— San Josemaría Escrivá, Camino, 91

En la primera lectura, escuchamos cómo Abraham ora a Dios para que no destruya Sodoma si encontraba al menos 10 personas inocentes. Su oración fue valiente y directa.

Íntima, valiente, directa. Así debemos orar a Dios.

Y las palabras del Padre Nuestro y del Ave María son nuestra guía.

¡Qué hermoso que este fin de semana celebremos a la madre de María, Santa Ana! Sin duda, sus oraciones fueron escuchadas, al dar a luz a quien sería la Inmaculada Concepción.

El mensaje de este domingo es claro:
Sé persistente en la oración.
No tengas miedo de pedir lo que necesitas.
Reza el Rosario con frecuencia.
Y confía en Jesús.

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^[1] Saint Luke’s Gospel, The Navarre Bible (Dublin; New York: Four Courts Press; Scepter Publishers, 2005), 113. 

HOMILY – The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ 2025

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          If one understands the true presence of Christ in the Eucharist, how could any Catholic not be here at Mass each and every week to receive Jesus?

This is a question we should all reflect on this weekend.  

The sad truth is far too many Catholics have walked away from the faith in recent years.

COVID interrupted our weekly practice of faith.  Many of our fellow parishioners never returned to Masses after the pandemic was over. Some got too comfortable joining Mass online or just fell out of the weekly Mass habit. Many of these people never returned to Church.

But this is only the most recent example of people walking away from the Catholic faith.

I’m not telling you something you don’t already know. Many of us have family members who have left the faith. There are many reasons people leave the Church.

The true culprit for these sad departures may be something revealed in research just prior to the pandemic.

A 2019 Pew Research poll found that only a third of all Catholics believe in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Two thirds only believe Jesus is symbolically present in Holy Communion. This means 70% of Catholics do not understand the true meaning of Eucharist. This is a problem for the future of our faith.

How is it that 60 years after Vatican II many U.S. Catholics no longer believe in the holiest quality of Eucharist?

Vatican II declared that the Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life. It is the beginning and the end. The be-all and end-all for our Church and our faith.

Eucharist comes from the Greek word for “thanksgiving” and refers to Holy Communion, or the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, which is consumed during weekly or daily Eucharistic Celebrations at a Catholic Mass.

The Body and Blood of Christ is the central theme of the Last Supper dialogue we heard in the Gospel on Holy Thursday at Mass.

As Jesus said,

"Take it; this is my body…
This is my blood of the covenant,
which will be shed for many.”

          We hear echoes of this in St. Paul’s Letter to the Corinthians today.

          Why is it that so many Catholics aren’t here with us every weekend?

I’ve always found it fascinating. People from developing nations, people some might call “the poor,” get the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist instinctively. People from developed or rich countries don’t. It’s proven in statistics of Church attendance in Europe, Canada and the United States.

Blessed are the poor. For they get it.

Perhaps our comfortable affluence has evaporated the need to encounter Jesus for some of our sisters and brothers.

Perhaps our poverty is one of belief, one of imagination, one of not letting Jesus’ words really soak in to our very being.

Bishop Robert Barron tells a story of once serving Holy Communion at the Vatican at a large outdoor Mass of people from all over the world. As he was making his through the crowd to his spot to serve Holy Communion, he encountered dozens of outstretched hands of people begging and pleading for Eucharist like a starving person.

Do we hunger for the Eucharist like that? Do we approach Jesus with begging bowl hands? Or do we just walk up, entitled, and nonchalantly receive what we may or may not believe in?

Great food for thought (so to speak) this weekend.

Transubstantiation is the term used by our Church for the conversion of simple bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ.

Epiclesis is the term used by our Church for the exact moment the Holy Spirit is called upon to consecrate Holy Communion.

As Bishop Barron says, “If we are just dealing with a bland symbol, who cares.” 

20^th Century Catholic author Flannery O’Connor has a famous quote about the Eucharist. Once when speaking with a lapsed Catholic who told her at a dinner party, “You know I think the Eucharist is a wonderful symbol.” O’Connor said, “If it’s only a symbol, I say to hell with it.”

Bishop Barron says, “(Flannery O’Connor) gives voice to something that is absolutely universal in our great tradition, across space and across time, there’s something more in the Eucharist than the merely symbolic. And so (for the) 70% of .. Catholics in our Pew Forum study, we’ve got a problem if we are not teaching this truth.”

Bishop Barron says we have not been effective with this teaching since Vatican II. In other words, we Catholics have a lot of work to do to help our sisters and brothers to understand this central truth of our faith.

Jesus produces a miracle today in the Gospel. We too must learn to see the Eucharist as a miracle for our souls.

Jesus is calling us all to the table of plenty to find communion with the divine; to find communion with him, the Creator of our very being, and the Holy Spirit. And to find communion with ourselves.

In the Gospel, the disciples are doubtful Jesus can feed a crowd of five thousand men (not to mention the women and children with them) with only five loaves and two fish.

Far too many Catholics may be doubtful about the true presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. But this is the way Christ enters into our lives and can change us forever.  If only we believe.

So, how do we fix it?

Sure, we can point our fingers at the hierarchy and blame them for our lack of faith. The abuse scandals did irreparable harm to our Church’s credibility.

Thankfully, with the Safe Environment, Virtus, background checks and psychological testing, we can pray and hope this will never happen again. 

But we (We, too,) can do our part to repair what is broken. We can help others grow closer to Christ by growing closer to Christ ourselves, by growing stronger in our belief in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, by growing more demonstrable in mirroring Christ in how we speak, act and serve others (especially those on the margins) as a sign of our Communion with the divine.

I am reminded of a powerful experience with our high schoolers during my time as Campus Minister at Archbishop Murphy High School. The young people found Christ in the service of the poor, those on the margins.

Whenever they would serve those living in homeless shelters, or living on the streets, they encountered Jesus in a powerful way.

Our MercyWatch team has the same experience each and every day we serve. As do those who serve at our Hot Meal each Monday, or at St. Vincent de Paul or Prepares.

The Eucharist is the fuel for this type service; sustenance for brininging Christ into the world.  

My sisters and brothers, this is the truth about the real presence of Jesus in Holy Communion and in the service of others.

This is what we solemnly celebrate this weekend.

 

HOMILÍA – El Santísimo Cuerpo y Sangre de Cristo 2025

 

Si uno entiende la verdadera presencia de Cristo en la Eucaristía, ¿cómo podría un católico no estar aquí en la Misa cada semana para recibir a Jesús?

Esta es una pregunta sobre la que todos deberíamos reflexionar este fin de semana.

La triste realidad es que demasiados católicos se han alejado de la fe en los últimos años.

El COVID interrumpió nuestra práctica semanal de la fe. Muchos de nuestros hermanos y hermanas en la parroquia nunca regresaron a las Misas después de la pandemia. Algunos se acostumbraron a participar en Misa en línea o simplemente perdieron el hábito semanal de asistir. Muchas de estas personas nunca regresaron a la Iglesia.

Pero este es solo el ejemplo más reciente de personas alejándose de la fe católica.

No les estoy diciendo algo que no sepan ya. Muchos de nosotros tenemos familiares que han dejado la fe. Hay muchas razones por las que la gente deja la Iglesia.

Pero el verdadero culpable de estas tristes salidas puede haber sido revelado en una investigación justo antes de la pandemia.

Una encuesta del Pew Research del 2019 encontró que solo un tercio de los católicos creen en la presencia real de Jesús en la Eucaristía. Dos tercios creen solamente que Jesús está presente de forma simbólica en la Comunión. Esto significa que el 70% de los católicos no entienden el verdadero significado de la Eucaristía. Y eso es un problema para el futuro de nuestra fe.

¿Cómo es posible que, 60 años después del Concilio Vaticano (dos) II, muchos católicos en Estados Unidos ya no crean en lo más sagrado de la Eucaristía?

El Vaticano II declaró que la Eucaristía es la fuente y la cumbre de la vida cristiana. Es el principio y el fin. El todo de nuestra Iglesia y de nuestra fe.

La palabra “Eucaristía” viene del griego y significa “acción de gracias”; se refiere a la Santa Comunión, o al Santísimo Cuerpo y Sangre de Cristo, que consumimos durante las Celebraciones Eucarísticas diarias o semanales en la Misa católica.

El Cuerpo y la Sangre de Cristo son el tema central del diálogo de la Última Cena que escuchamos en el Evangelio del Jueves Santo.

Como dijo Jesús:

“Tomad, esto es mi cuerpo…
Esta es mi sangre, sangre de la alianza,
que será derramada por muchos.”

Escuchamos ecos de estas palabras hoy en la Carta de San Pablo a los Corintios.

¿Por qué tantos católicos no están aquí con nosotros cada fin de semana?

Siempre me ha parecido fascinante. Personas de países en desarrollo —personas que algunos podrían llamar “los pobres”— comprenden de manera instintiva la presencia real de Jesús en la Eucaristía. Las personas de países desarrollados o ricos no lo hacen. Esto se refleja en las estadísticas de asistencia a Misa en Europa, Canadá y Estados Unidos.

Bienaventurados los pobres, porque ellos sí lo entienden.

Tal vez nuestra comodidad material ha hecho que algunos de nuestros hermanos y hermanas ya no sientan la necesidad de encontrarse con Jesús.

Tal vez nuestra pobreza es de fe, de imaginación, de no permitir que las palabras de Jesús realmente penetren hasta lo más profundo de nuestro ser.

El Obispo Robert Barron cuenta una historia sobre cuando distribuyó la Comunión en el Vaticano durante una gran Misa al aire libre con personas de todo el mundo. Mientras se abría paso entre la multitud para llegar a su lugar, encontró docenas de manos extendidas, suplicando por la Eucaristía como alguien que muere de hambre.

¿Nosotros anhelamos la Eucaristía de esa manera? ¿Nos acercamos a Jesús con manos vacías y corazón suplicante? ¿O simplemente nos acercamos como si tuviéramos derecho, recibiendo con indiferencia algo en lo que puede que ni siquiera creamos?

Gran tema para reflexionar este fin de semana.

“Transubstanciación” es el término que nuestra Iglesia usa para describir la conversión del pan y el vino en el Cuerpo y la Sangre de Cristo.

“Epíclesis” es el término para el momento exacto en que el Espíritu Santo es invocado para consagrar la Comunión.

Como dice el Obispo Barron: “Si sólo estamos hablando de un símbolo sin poder, ¿a quién le importa?”

La escritora católica del siglo XX, Flannery O’Connor, tiene una famosa frase sobre la Eucaristía. Una vez, hablando con una católica que se había alejado de la fe y le dijo: “Yo creo que la Eucaristía es un símbolo muy bonito”, O’Connor respondió: “Si es solo un símbolo, entonces al diablo con él.”

El Obispo Barron dice: “Flannery O’Connor da voz a algo que es universal en nuestra gran tradición: a través del tiempo y del espacio, siempre ha habido algo más en la Eucaristía que lo meramente simbólico. Así que, si el 70% de los católicos en el estudio de Pew Forum no creen en esto, tenemos un problema si no estamos enseñando esta verdad.”

El Obispo Barron afirma que no hemos sido efectivos en esta enseñanza desde el Vaticano II. En otras palabras, nosotros como católicos tenemos mucho trabajo por hacer para ayudar a nuestras hermanas y hermanos a entender esta verdad central de nuestra fe.

Jesús realiza un milagro hoy en el Evangelio. Nosotros también debemos aprender a ver la Eucaristía como un milagro para nuestras almas.

Jesús nos llama a todos a la mesa abundante para encontrar comunión con lo divino; para encontrar comunión con Él, el Creador de nuestro propio ser, y con el Espíritu Santo. Y para encontrar comunión con nosotros mismos.

En el Evangelio, los discípulos dudan que Jesús pueda alimentar a una multitud de cinco mil hombres (sin contar a las mujeres y niños) con solo cinco panes y dos pescados.
          Demasiados católicos hoy dudan también de la verdadera presencia de Jesús en la Eucaristía. Pero esta es la manera en que Cristo entra en nuestras vidas y puede transformarnos para siempre. Si tan solo creemos.

Entonces, ¿cómo lo solucionamos?

Nosotros también podemos hacer nuestra parte para reparar lo que está roto. Podemos ayudar a otros a acercarse más a Cristo, acercándonos nosotros más a Él. Fortaleciendo nuestra creencia en la presencia real de Jesús en la Eucaristía, y siendo más visibles en reflejar a Cristo en la manera en que hablamos, actuamos y servimos a los demás (especialmente a los marginados) como señal de nuestra Comunión con lo divino.

Recuerdo una experiencia poderosa con nuestros jóvenes de preparatoria durante mi tiempo como ministro de campus en Archbishop Murphy High School. Los jóvenes encontraban a Cristo al servir a los pobres, a los marginados.

Siempre que servían en albergues o en la calle, se encontraban con Jesús de una forma muy profunda.

Nuestro equipo de MercyWatch vive esa experiencia cada día que sirve. Igual que quienes ayudan en nuestras Comidas Calientes de los lunes, o en San Vicente de Paúl, o en el programa Prepares.

La Eucaristía es el combustible de este tipo de servicio; el alimento para llevar a Cristo al mundo.

Mis hermanas y hermanos, esta es la verdad sobre la presencia real de Jesús en la Sagrada Comunión y en el servicio a los demás.

Esto es lo que celebramos solemnemente este fin de semana.