Third Sunday of Advent
I spent Thanksgiving week at home my mom in India. It was an unplanned visit. I went because some of mom’s needs could not wait till my usual vacation in January. The consoling thing about leaving home this time was that both mom and I knew that I would be back home in just over a month.
Second Sunday of Advent
A few years back, I read an article in the New York Times titled “Want to Get into the Christmas Spirit? Face the Darkness.” It was written an Anglican priest, Tish Harrison. I would like to begin my homily with a quote from her article. Contrasting the mood outside versus the Church’s more subdued Advent sentiments, she says, “I think Advent offers wisdom to the wider world. It reminds us that joy is trivialized if we do not first intentionally acknowledge the pain and wreckage of the world.” She continues, “… inside many church buildings, this time of year looks different. There, we find a countercultural sparseness. The altar is covered in purple, the color of both royalty and repentance. There’s a slowing down, a silent stillness. The music turns to minor keys and becomes contemplative, even mournful. The Scripture readings are apocalyptic and trippy, strikingly short on sweet tales of babies, little lambs and Christmas stars. In this small space, Christmas season has not yet begun. The church waits in Advent.”
The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe
Today is the feast of Christ the Universal King. I find it fascinating that one of the most vulnerable moments of Jesus’ life is proclaimed on the Solemnity of Christ the Universal King. What purpose is served by reading the passage of leaders sneering at Jesus and soldiers jeering Jesus? Included in today gospel reading is also a passage unique to the gospel of Luke. It’s story of the two criminals crucified next to Jesus. One criminal reviles Jesus whereas the other is welcomed into paradise by Jesus.
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
These are the last weeks of the liturgical year, and we know that apocalyptic scripture readings – like the ones we have today – have both liturgical and existential meaning. I am not going to spend time on introductory material today. Here are my three practical implications.
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Scripture Readings
I was having a difficult day the other day. And in pure desperation I said to myself, “Church is hard! There better be a heaven!” And really, some days are like that, isn’t it? It is not only desperation, frustration, and impatience with situations, but there are times in our lives when we feel that life is closing in on us. And sometimes it really does. We have all experienced death and dying of someone we love. At that moment, in those times, we say, “There better be a heaven!” Fortunately, there is!
Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
In 1985 I was a seminarian. I wanted to be a priest who celebrated the Mass reverently and preached the gospel meaningfully, but there was more. I wanted to change the world. I wanted to end hunger, work for world peace, and see all humanity as one. And I am still that way. I am an idealist.
It was at the peak of my seminary life in 1991 that I heard a song that spelt out my idealism. It was written and composed by Julie Gold in 1985 and first sung by Nancy Griffith on the David Letterman Show. In 1991, sung by Bette Midler, it won the Grammy. You have probably guessed it by now – its “From a Distance.” Even today, when the I hear the words…
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
In today’s gospel we have yet another short but brilliant piece of storytelling from Luke – the parable of the Pharisee and tax-collector who came the temple to pray (Lk 18:9-14). If we reflect on the parable by itself, then the main theme seems to be, humility. The parable even concludes by saying, “For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted" (Lk 18:14). However, if we reflect on the parable along with last week’s parable about the persistent widow and the uncaring judge (Lk 18:1-8), then the parable seems to be a continuation of Jesus’ teaching on prayer.
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
In 2019, preaching my homily on the same scripture readings we have today, I began by saying, “I would like to take 2019 and just throw it somewhere.” Dad had passed away in January 2019; in June 2019, Dayton was hit by tornadoes; in September 2019 Dayton experienced the Oregon District Mass Shootings; in the same month Fr. Dave passed away; and around the same time several people dear to me, including a three-month-old baby, were teetering between life and death. I had grown weary of 2019.
In January 2020, I headed to India for my usual visit home. It seemed like 2020 was going to be better. How wrong I was! That January when I travelled back from India wearing a N-95 mask. I had never heard of an N-95 mask. A global pandemic was in full swing. Suddenly, 2020 and 2021 made 2019 look like child’s play.
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
There are two very powerful stories in today’s scripture readings. The first story is the healing of Naaman the Syrian (2 Kgs 5:14-17), and the other is Jesus healing the ten lepers (Lk 17:11-19). As powerful as these stories are in themselves, I would like to reflect on them from the perspective of a sentence from today’s second reading. Paul writes to Timothy, “But the word of God is not chained” (2 Tim 2:9).
Let me provide the context for these words from Paul before I draw three practical implications for today.
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
There is something that I have preached about in passing which today I want to make the theme of my homily. “Don’t live a good and holy life because you want to be saved; live a good and holy life because you ARE saved!” The theme is inspired by today’s gospel reading where Jesus says, “When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do'" (Lk 17:10).
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Last Monday, Queen Elizabeth II was laid to rest. After a seventy-year-reign that began in 1952, she died at the age of 96. The world watched. Of course, the British did not fail. For two weeks they put up the best show on royal life, royal customs, and royal pageantries that the world has even seen. Finally, on Monday, Queen Elizabeth II was buried. 5.1 billion people have said to have watched the burial.
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
At a Labor Day Mass one year, I offered a reflection on the Church’s teaching on human labor. I remember that that homily was about meaningful work, just wages, and the dignity of human labor. A visitor into town was present at Mass and came up to me after Mass said, “Father, I came this morning to attend Mass not for a talk on Communism. You should stick to religion and not bring up politics at Mass.” I understand this concern. When people come to Church, they come to worship God, to celebrate the Eucharist, receive Communion, and be spiritually strengthened. But there is a misunderstanding.
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Let me begin this homily where the gospel reading begins: “Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”” (Lk 15:1). Because we have three powerful parables that follow this introductory statement (parables of the lost coin, lost sheep, and lost son), and because we have one of the most powerful parables in all of scripture that ends this section, our attention is drawn immediately to them. In reality, the three parables are Jesus’ response to the introductory
Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
It happened in a serendipitous moment, but I learnt a little late in life that it is not enough to have goals in life, but to have a goal for life itself; that it is one thing to figure out what to do IN life and quite another to figure out what to do WITH life. For me, the serendipitous moment happened when I was 24. One day, in a moral theology class the professor asked us to write down our own epitaph. It was a weighty question: “What do I want my tombstone to say?” Today, I am asking you. If you had to write your epitaph, what would it read? Will it say what you did in life, or will it say what you did with life?
Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
At first read, today’s scripture readings are about humility. But before they are about humility they are about hypocrisy. A caveat: The gospel reading for the liturgy is from Luke chapter 17, verse 1 and verses 7-14. It omits verses 2-6. My reflection includes the omitted verses because Luke wrote it as one event.
Luke provides us with some very important details. First, Jesus was a dinner-guest of not just another Pharisee, but as Luke puts it, “one of the leading Pharisees” (Lk 14:1). Commentators say that he was the chief Pharisee. The fellow guests were lawyers and other Pharisees. Second, the meal takes place on a Sabbath. Third, Luke tells us that “the people over there were observing him carefully.” This means that the invitation given to Jesus was a not a friendly invitation. It was a hostile invitation. In Luke’s context, it was a hypocritical invitation.
Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
Today, I would like to reflect on the same question that the disciples asked Jesus, “Will only a few people be saved?” (Luke 13:23) It is a good question. Who will be saved? In today’s gospel reading Jesus gives no direct answer to the question.
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Scripture Readings
There was Jesus. He was born in time, lived, was killed, but rose from dead. And then there are the gospels. The gospels tell us how he was born, how he lived, the cause of his death, and even though they do not describe the actual resurrection, reports that Jesus was raised from the dead. So, then, there was Jesus and there are the Gospels. From the time of Jesus’ resurrection, a minimum of 40 years had passed before the first gospels were written.
Besides the primary message of all the four gospels, there is one other reality that is common to them – persecution. Not only was Jesus persecuted but early Christians faced persecution. All the gospels are written in the context of persecution. In fact, passages like the ones we have in today’s gospel can only be understood in the context of persecution. Jesus says, “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.”
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Last Lent, I offered a six-week series on Francis of Assisi. One of the books I read in preparation for the series was a book titled, “The Loneliness and Longing of St. Francis.” I mention this book not so much for the sake of Francis but the author, Gerard Thomas Straub. Straub was a Hollywood film maker and a professing atheist. He once had the likes of Alec Baldwin and Demi Moore starring for him. He is also the producer of the famous television series, General Hospital.
Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Pope Francis spent the past week in Canada on a highly anticipated papal visit. The context of his visit was the abuse of Indigenous children at the residential schools managed by Catholic organizations. Francis described the purpose of his visit in these words: “Dear brothers and sisters of Canada, I come among you to meet the Indigenous peoples. I hope with God’s grace, that my penitential pilgrimage might contribute to the journey of reconciliation already undertaken. Please accompany me with prayer.” Once among the Indigenous people, the Pope said, “I am sorry – sorry for the ways in which, regrettably, many Christians supported the colonizing mentality of the power that oppressed the Indigenous peoples.” I do not know of another instance when a Pope visited a country and looked so vulnerable. But that is Pope Francis. He is known for his simplicity, his humility, his compassion, and reconciling spirit.
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Preaching on today’s scripture readings is not easy. The reason simply is that in life, neither do we get haggle with God the way Abraham did, nor do we always receive whatever we ask, find whatever we seek, and not every door opens when we knock. On Thursday, I visited the family of an eleven-year-old child who was killed in a car accident along with his father. When you encounter such intense grief, what do you say? What do we ask, what do we seek, which is the door at which we knock? Coming Wednesday I have this child’s funeral. My struggle is not trying to haggle with God like Abraham. My struggle is not asking, seeking, and knocking. I am struggling to simply finding words. As the grieving mother said to me, “There are no words!”