Wednesday, September 16, 2026
Tuesday, September 15, 2026
Monday, September 14, 2026
Friday, September 11, 2026
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.
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.
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.
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 quĂ© vale la pena dejarlo todo?
Hay una pregunta que toda persona
responde, no con palabras, sino con la manera en que vive:
¿Por quĂ© vale la pena dejarlo todo?
Muchos de nosotros conocemos a personas
que dejaron todo atrás. Cruzaron fronteras, aprendieron otro idioma, aceptaron
trabajos difĂciles, se perdieron cumpleaños, guardaron su soledad y soportaron
años de sacrificio.
¿Por quĂ©? ¿Por quĂ©?
Porque creyeron que habĂa algo más
valioso esperando a sus hijos que aquello que estaban dejando atrás.
Nadie hace un sacrificio asĂ, a menos
que haya encontrado un tesoro.
Y eso es precisamente de lo que JesĂşs
nos habla hoy.
“El Reino de los cielos se parece a un
tesoro escondido en un campo… y tambiĂ©n a un comerciante que busca perlas
finas”.
Notemos algo importante.
El hombre no está triste cuando vende
todo lo que tiene.
Está lleno de alegrĂa.
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 SalomĂłn sĂ lo comprendiĂł.
Cuando Dios le ofreciĂł concederle lo que
pidiera, SalomĂłn no pidiĂł dinero.
No pidiĂł poder.
No pidiĂł una larga vida.
PidiĂł sabidurĂa.
¿Por quĂ©?
Porque sabĂa que, si tenĂa sabidurĂa,
todo lo demás encontrarĂa 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 corazĂłn que sepa reconocer a Dios.
Porque cuando nuestro corazĂłn 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 divisiĂłn 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
paĂs.
Tal vez llegamos con miedo.
Tal vez la vida ha sido más difĂcil 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 egoĂstas.
Hay creyentes fuertes y creyentes que
están luchando con su fe.
Hay personas que acaban de llegar y
otras que llevan aquĂ 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 JesĂşs 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…
¿quĂ© pensarĂa 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
EucaristĂa, estaremos haciendo algo extraordinario.
El hombre del Evangelio encontrĂł 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
EucaristĂa que olvidemos QuiĂ©n nos espera allĂ.
Y que salgamos de esta Misa con la misma
alegrĂa del hombre que encontrĂł el tesoro, dispuestos a entregar completamente
nuestro corazĂłn 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.
Saturday, June 27, 2026
HOMILY – 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Love Jesus First
_____________________
How many people have uttered the words, "I
would do absolutely anything for my children."
We believe them when they say this.
But what if you were asked: "Would
you become a saint for them?"
Most would pause and think about it for
a moment.
Because those are not always the same
thing.
Many parents would throw themselves in
front of a bus for their children. Many spouses would work endless hours to
provide for their families. Many grandparents would sacrifice comfort and sleep
for those they love.
But becoming holy? Putting Christ first?
Surrendering our pride, our sins, our ambitions, our need to control? Sometimes
that feels a lot harder.
And that is exactly where today's Gospel
challenges us.
Jesus says something that sounds
shocking:
"Whoever loves father or mother
more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever loves son or daughter more than me is
not worthy of me."
At first hearing, those words can sound
harsh, even offensive.
Is Jesus telling us to love our families
less?
Is He asking us to choose between God
and the people we love?
Not at all.
In fact, the Catholic understanding is
exactly the opposite.
Jesus is teaching that we can never
truly love our families as we should unless we love Him first.
Think about it this way.
When God is not first, something else
becomes first.
Sometimes it is money.
Sometimes success.
Sometimes politics.
And sometimes—surprisingly—it can even
be family.
Now family is a beautiful gift from God.
The Fourth Commandment tells us to honor our father and mother. Marriage and
family are sacred vocations. The Church calls the family the "domestic
church."
But even a good thing becomes distorted
when it takes God's place.
Parents can become possessive.
Children can become idols.
Spouses can expect from one another what
only God can provide.
Love can become control.
Affection can become dependency.
Protection can become fear.
When family becomes our highest good, we
actually begin loving them less well, not more.
But when Christ is first, everything
changes.
Then a husband loves his wife not merely
because she makes him happy, but because Christ teaches him to lay down his
life for her.
Then a wife forgives because Christ
forgave her.
Then parents raise children not to
fulfill their own dreams but to help them discover God's plan.
Then children learn that their identity
comes not from achievement but from being beloved sons and daughters of God.
Jesus is not asking us to love our
families less.
He is teaching us how to love them more.
We see a beautiful example in the first
reading.
The Shunammite woman recognizes
something special in Elisha. She opens her home to him and prepares a room for
him.
Why?
Because she puts God's presence first.
And notice what happens.
Her generosity does not diminish her
life.
It enlarges it.
The blessing she receives—a son promised
by God—flows from her willingness to welcome God's servant.
When God comes first, blessings
overflow.
The same principle remains true today.
Whenever we make room for God in our lives, everyone around us benefits.
St. Paul takes this even deeper in the
second reading.
He reminds us that through Baptism we
have died with Christ and risen with Him.
That means our primary identity is no
longer simply father, mother, son, daughter, husband, wife, friend, or citizen.
All those identities matter.
But first and foremost, we belong to
Christ.
We are united to His death and
resurrection.
We are children of God.
And that changes every relationship.
The saint is not someone who escapes
family life.
The saint is someone who brings the life
of Christ into family life.
Consider the great saints.
Saint Monica loved her son St. Augustine
deeply.
But she loved Christ even more.
Because she loved Christ more, she never
gave up praying for Augustine's conversion.
And through her faithfulness, God
transformed not only Augustine but the entire Church.
Or think of Saint Thomas More.
He’s the English lawyer and former Lord
High Chancellor martyred in the 16th Century by King Henry the 8th
when he challenged the King’s desire to divorce his wife.
He was a devoted husband and father.
Yet when forced to choose between
loyalty to Christ and loyalty to earthly powers, he chose Christ, saying at his
execution: “I die the king’s good servant, and God’s first.”
Not because he loved his family less.
Because he loved God most.
And in doing so, he gave his family the
greatest gift possible: the witness of holiness.
There is another subtle lesson in
today's Gospel.
Jesus says:
"Whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me."
Notice how quickly He moves from family
relationships to the cross.
Because sometimes the hardest crosses
come precisely within the family.
A parent praying for a child who has
left the faith.
A spouse caring for a husband or wife
through a long illness.
A son or daughter forgiving old wounds.
A family remaining faithful to Christ
when society pressures them to compromise.
The cross often appears where love is
deepest.
Yet that is where Christ meets us.
At the end of the Gospel, Jesus speaks
about offering even a cup of cold water in His name.
It seems like such a small thing.
But that is how holiness usually
happens.
Not through dramatic gestures.
Through daily faithfulness.
A prayer before breakfast.
A patient conversation.
An act of forgiveness.
Bringing a child to Mass.
Caring for an elderly parent.
Praying for a struggling spouse.
Welcoming Christ in ordinary moments.
Small acts done for Christ transform the
world.
So today Jesus asks each of us a
difficult but life-changing question: "Who
is first in your life?"
Not because Christ is insecure.
Not because He is competing with your
family.
But because He knows a profound truth:
The most loving thing you can do for
your spouse is to love Christ first.
The most loving thing you can do for
your children is to love Christ first.
The most loving thing you can do for
your parents is to love Christ first.
Because when Christ is first, everyone
else receives not less of your heart—but more of it, purified, strengthened,
and transformed by divine love.
For only when Jesus occupies the center
of our lives do we learn how to love everyone else as He loves them. And that
is the kind of love that leads not merely to happiness in this life, but to
eternal life in the next.