Homilies for October 2024

For October 6, October 13, October 20, and October 27

Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time – October 6, 2024

Readings: Gn. 2:18–24 • Ps. 128:1–2, 3, 4–5, 6 • Heb. 2:9–11 • Mk. 10:2–16 or 10:2–12
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/100624.cfm

How often do we hear couples having playful or loving nicknames for each other, especially at the beginning of their relationship or marriage? Those names often reference the uniqueness of that couple’s love for each other. Perhaps the best image to have for a better understanding of the sacrament of marriage is to look upon your spouse as an ox. Some married couples may wholeheartedly agree with calling their spouse an ox, but I’m not referring to those reasons. The Lord perhaps can give reason why a spouse is an ox and invites us to reflect on the profound mystery and sanctity of marriage.

In the Book of Genesis, we hear the words, “It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him” (2:18). This divine declaration underscores the importance of companionship and mutual support. God created Eve as a partner for Adam, not to serve him but to share in the fullness of life together. The unity between Adam and Eve is so profound that they become “one flesh” (2:24). This unity is not merely physical but deeply spiritual and emotional. It is a bond that God Himself establishes.

Jesus reaffirms this sacred bond in Mark’s Gospel, quoting Genesis, “‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, no human being must separate” (10:7–9).

In this memorable statement, Christ appeals to the divine institution of marriage (Gn. 2:24) to point out that marriage is the strongest human bond that transforms two people into “one flesh.” Moreover, Jesus affirms that God Himself is the one who actually joins a couple in marriage.

The Greek word used for joined together (synezeuxen) literally means yoked together. To understand the nature of the marital bond better, let us consider the image of the yoke, which was a wooden bar used to connect two oxen or other draft animals, allowing them to work together in pulling a plow or cart.

Just as a yoke is custom-made to fit each pair of oxen, so too is marriage uniquely suited to each couple. The yoke ensures that both oxen pull equally and support each other. If one oxen falls or becomes tired, the other helps to carry the load or helps lift the fallen one. Similarly, in marriage, spouses are called to support and lift each other through life’s challenges. When one partner is weak, the other must provide strength; when one stumbles, the other should offer a hand.

In our contemporary society, we might sometimes forget that the primary purpose of marriage is not just companionship but holiness. Marriage is a vocation, a call to grow in sanctity and to support each other on the journey to eternal life. The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us, “He who consecrates and those who are being consecrated all have one origin” (2:11). Marriage is not merely a human arrangement but a sacrament that consecrates the couple and unites them in their common origin in Christ.

Marriage, like the yoke, demands a commitment to working together in both joy and hardship. It requires that spouses be willing to bear each other’s burdens and share each other’s joys. The physical and spiritual life can be tiring, but each has to wait for the other. If one spouse leaves the other behind, inevitably there will be a fracture in the bond. Selfishness cracks the yoke. What was I, me, and mine had become through marriage we, us, and ours. When spouses forget that the two are yoked as one flesh, they fail to realize that what benefits one will benefit the other and what will harm one will harm the other in return.

The sacramental nature of marriage transforms the natural bond between husband and wife into something divine. By Christ’s own sacrifice and His union with the Church, He models the perfect love that spouses are called to emulate. Just as Christ gave Himself entirely for the Church, so too are spouses called to a self-giving, sacrificial love. The rings exchanged are the external sign of being yoked together through their internal giving and receiving of the sacred vows.

The couple’s confidence in Christ’s loving presence in their marriage allows the psalmist’s response to be the couple’s daily petition, “May the Lord bless us all the days of our life.” This blessing is not just for individual happiness but for the flourishing of the family and the broader community. When couples live out their marriage in faithfulness, they become witnesses of God’s love and grace.

Just as the sacrament of marriage calls a couple to be yoked together in love and faithfulness, each Christian is called to walk side by side with Christ, to be supported by Him in our vocation, and to be disposed to receive the grace to grow in holiness each day. The challenges and burdens of life are easier to bear when we are united in Christ, pulling together in the yoke of love that He has blessed. May we always strive to live out our vocations with the grace and strength that comes from God, knowing that He has blessed us and will be with us all the days of our lives.

Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time – October 13, 2024

Readings: Wis. 7:7–11 • Ps. 90:12–13, 14–15, 16–17 • Heb. 4:12–13 • Mk. 10:17–30 or 10:17–27
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/101324.cfm

In the classic tale The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, the protagonist, Dorian Gray, is given a magical portrait that ages and bears the marks of his moral decay while he remains youthful and unblemished. Dorian’s life becomes a quest for perpetual youth and pleasure, but his soul becomes increasingly corrupted. Wilde uses this story to explore themes of vanity, the pursuit of material wealth, and the loss of one’s true self. Today’s readings challenge us to reflect on what we truly value and seek in our lives, contrasting it with the wisdom and love that God offers us.

In the Book of Wisdom, we encounter a profound reflection on divine insight and understanding: “I prayed, and prudence was given me; I pleaded, and the spirit of wisdom came to me.” This passage emphasizes the value of wisdom and discernment as gifts from God. Wisdom is not merely an intellectual exercise but a spiritual gift that helps us navigate the complexities of life with a deeper understanding of God’s will. Wisdom transforms our perception, guiding us to make choices that align with God’s will and bringing us closer to His truth, and He wills that we find fulfillment in life.

Psalm 90 speaks to the human desire for meaning and fulfillment in the midst of life’s fleeting nature. The Psalmist recognizes that only God’s love, not things of the world, can truly satisfy our deepest needs and bring lasting joy. The Psalmist pleads, “Fill us with your love, O Lord, and we will sing for joy!” and reflects a similar longing for the divine presence and guidance. In his Confessions, St. Augustine observed, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You, O Lord.” This joy is not a superficial emotion but a deep, abiding sense of peace and contentment that comes from being filled with God’s love.

In the Gospel of Mark, we encounter the story of the rich man who approaches Jesus with a question: “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (10:17). Jesus tells him to follow the commandments, and the young man responds that he has done so since his youth. Then Jesus looks on him with love and says, “One thing you lack: Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me” (10:21). At that statement, the man’s face falls, and he goes away sad, for he had many possessions.

The rich man’s sadness, his deep sense of grief, reveals the struggle between his attachment to his wealth and his desire for eternal life. This story highlights the challenge of letting go of material possessions, that which we think brings fulfillment, in order to embrace the fullness of life that Christ offers.

St. John Chrysostom in his Homily 63 on Matthew would comment that the man’s sorrow was not because he lacked virtue but because he was unable to part with his wealth. His attachment to riches prevented him from receiving the true riches of the kingdom of God. But was the rich young man unable to part with his wealth? St. John Chrysostom and others presume he goes away sad because he cannot part with his possessions, but what if he went away sad because he knew what he had to do and what he was going to do?

We mourn the loss of people, places, things and way of life. We mourn the loss of that which is good for us and also that which is not. It seems rather odd to mourn the loss of sin since it would be a good; however, sin becomes such a part of our way of life that we think we cannot live without it. The rich man’s possessions had been such a part of his life, it would be difficult to live without them, but not impossible. “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.” This statement reassures us that while human effort alone may not suffice, God’s grace makes all things possible. It is through God’s transformative power, and the power of God’s word, that we are able to overcome our attachments and live according to His will.

The rich man’s encounter with Jesus, the Word made flesh, moves his heart. In the letter to the Hebrews, we are reminded, “The word of God is living and effective, penetrating even to the division of soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart” (4:12). The word of God is not static or distant; it is alive and capable of penetrating the depths of our being, capable of penetrating the heart of a rich man and bringing about a conversion. The Scriptures are the voice of God speaking directly to the heart, discerning our deepest secrets and guiding us towards truth. Just as Jesus revealed the truth of the rich young man’s heart, the living word of God challenges us to reflect on our lives honestly and to align our thoughts and actions with His divine will.

The encounter between the rich man and Christ challenges us to consider how we might apply the wisdom we seek from God. Are we willing to let go of whomever or whatever stops us from following Christ more closely? How does God’s word challenge us to examine our lives and our deepest desires? In our own lives, we are invited to seek the divine wisdom that guides us toward a deeper understanding of God’s will, to embrace the joy that comes from being filled with His love, and to allow the living word of God to penetrate our hearts and transform us.

May we, like the rich man, confront our own obstacles with honesty and openness, trusting that God’s grace can make all things possible. Let us pray for the wisdom to discern our true priorities and the courage to follow Christ faithfully, knowing that in Him, and not worldly pleasures, material wealth, or self-sufficiency, do we find the ultimate fulfillment and joy.

Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time – October 20, 2024

Readings: Is. 53:10–11 • Ps. 33:4–5, 18–19, 20, 22 • Heb. 4:14–16 • Mk. 10:35–45 or 10:42–45
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/102024.cfm

During World War II, St. Maximilian Kolbe was arrested by the Nazis and sent to Auschwitz. When a fellow prisoner was selected to be executed as a reprisal for an escape, Kolbe stepped forward and offered to take his place, saying, “I am a Catholic priest. I wish to die in his place.” His selfless act of sacrifice, rooted in a deep love for his neighbor and his faith, revealed a greatness that transcended his dire circumstances. In that moment, St. Maximilian embraced the cup of suffering that the Lord had drunk from, demonstrating that true heroism lies not in seeking personal glory but in laying down one’s life for others. His martyrdom became a powerful testament to the transformative power of love and sacrifice, inspiring countless others to live out their faith with courage and compassion. St. Maximilian Kolbe exemplifies by his death the truth that authentic greatness comes through profound sacrifice.

Today’s readings invite us to reflect on this very truth as we contemplate the nature of Christ’s sacrifice and the call He extends to us. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus asks James and John, “Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” (10:38). This question is not merely about physical suffering but speaks to the very essence of Christ’s mission and the nature of our discipleship. We then must ask ourselves, “Are we willing to drink the cup of suffering and be baptized with the baptism of sacrificial love that Jesus describes? How do we live out our trust in God’s mercy and His compassionate understanding of our human condition?”

Foreshadowing Christ’s redemptive suffering, Isaiah 53:10–11 gives us a prophetic insight into the suffering servant: “Through his suffering, my servant shall justify many, and their guilt he shall bear.” Here, we learn that through Christ’s profound suffering, He will make right the relationship between humanity and God by bearing the guilt of our sins. This is no ordinary suffering but a redemptive suffering that transforms the very nature of humanity.

Fallen humanity needed a savior that God in His mercy would provide for us. The response echoes a trust in God’s providence: “Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.” This plea for mercy aligns perfectly with the reality of our human condition and our need for divine intervention in our weaknesses, a need for redemption.

We needed the perfect High Priest and the perfect victim to remit the penalty for sin. The author of the Letter to the Hebrews emphasizes Christ’s empathy: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has similarly been tested in every way, yet without sin” (4:15). This High Priest, Jesus Christ, has walked our path and understands our struggles deeply. His experience of human suffering was not distant or detached but intimate and profound. Jesus drank the cup of humanity that the Father placed before Him.

In the Gospel of Mark, we see a striking interaction between Jesus and His disciples, which focuses upon the cup to drink. James and John approach Jesus with a bold request: “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory” (10:37). Jesus responds with a challenging question: “Can you drink the cup that I drink or be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” (10:38). When Jesus speaks of drinking from the cup and being baptized with the baptism He will undergo, He is referring to His impending Passion and death.

The baptism referred to is symbolizing a total immersion in suffering or a transformative experience. Jesus is inviting His disciples to consider the depth of commitment required to share in His glory. The cup and the baptism that Christ refers to are the trials and sufferings that He willingly endured for our sake. To follow Him means to share in His mission of service and sacrifice. The call to discipleship involves not just a sharing in Christ’s glory but also a participation in His suffering and His mission of love.

In His agony in the garden and passion on the cross, Jesus faces and intense struggle, not just a physical ordeal but a cosmic battle between life and death, light and darkness. Christ the High Priest and Victim, in His act of ultimate sacrifice, lifts the chalice of humanity’s sins and drinks it to the dregs. He consumes the chalice filled with the poison of our brokenness, our sinfulness.

In Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week, Pope Benedict XVI beautifully describes Jesus’s chalice of suffering: “Because he is the Son, he experiences deeply all the horror, filth, and baseness that he must drink from the ‘chalice’ prepared for him: the vast power of sin and death. All this he must take into himself so that it can be disarmed and defeated in him.” We are each connected to this chalice. Blaise Pascal reflected upon the Lord’s sacrifice and penned the Lord’s reminder to us: “Those drops of blood, I shed for you” (Pensées VII, 553). Every one of us has contributed to that chalice with our own sins and failings. Yet Jesus drank from it, transforming it into a vessel of salvation.

Jesus’ question to James and John — “Can you drink the cup that I drink?” — is not just a query to them but a challenge to each of us. To drink from this cup means to share in His cross. It’s not about seeking out suffering, as some might think, but about recognizing that suffering is a part of the journey of discipleship. God doesn’t burden us with more than we can bear. Instead, He gives us just enough to grow in faith and reliance on His grace.

The chalice of Christ is indeed filled with both sweetness and bitterness. The sweetness of divine grace and the bitterness of the cross. For those of us who embrace the call of discipleship, there is a profound reality in drinking from this chalice. It is a call to recognize our own weaknesses and to rely on God’s strength. As St. Francis de Sales encourages us, “The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will care for you tomorrow and every day. Either he will shield you from suffering or give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace then and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginings.” As we participate in the Eucharist, we drink from the chalice that Christ has consecrated with His blood. This sacred act gives us fortitude in times of doubt and fear.

In our everyday lives, we may face our own trials and challenges — moments when we feel overwhelmed, fearful, or inadequate. These are our moments of drinking from the cup. Yet St. Paul exhorts us, “Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:10). The priest at the altar offers this chalice to us, and we are invited to partake of it, drawing from it the courage and strength we need to face our own crosses.

In the Mass, the accidents of Christ’s blood bring both a sweetness and a bitterness — sweetness in the grace and bitterness in the sacrifice. As we hear the words of consecration, “This is my body, which will be given up for you; this is the chalice of my blood, which will be poured out for you,” we are reminded of the profound love and sacrifice that underpins our faith.

There is no need for fear in drinking from this chalice. Christ provides all that we need to bear our crosses and face our trials. Let us then approach the Eucharistic table with faith and confidence, knowing that in drinking deeply from the chalice of Christ’s sacrifice, we are united with Him in His mission of redemption, grace, mercy, and love. May His mercy and love fill us and empower us to live out our baptismal call to holiness through sacrificial love.

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time — October 27, 2024

Readings: Jer. 31:7–9 • Ps. 126:1–2, 2–3, 4–5, 6 • Heb. 5:1–6 • Mk. 10:46–52
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/102724.cfm

On Monday, August 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina made landfall in Louisiana, impacting the southern Gulf Coast, including the city of New Orleans. At least 1,836 people were killed and extensive damage throughout the area resulted. The nation was shocked to see pictures and video of a major U.S. metropolitan city under water. The images of boats and helicopters rescuing people from their rooftops amidst such devastation revealed the severity of the aftermath. A week later on Labor Day, I went to the New Orleans International Airport to provide whatever pastoral care I could to those still being rescued and brought for evacuation.

One elderly couple I encountered shared their harrowing story with me of their survival. The wife asked if my cell phone worked and if she could use it to call her daughter who did not know if they were dead or alive. I quickly gave her my phone and was brought into their tear-filled audio reunion. Afterwards I mentioned to them that I wished I could take them home with me and I will never forget her words. She exclaimed, “Father, just seeing you here reminded us that God did not forget about us. He has rescued us and will bring us back.” In the midst of destruction and suffering, there was hope and a promise of restoration, bringing comfort and immense peace. Today’s readings reflect this divine promise of gathering, healing, and joy, and they invite us to recognize God’s unwavering commitment to His people and our call to embody that same commitment in our own lives.

In the Book of Prophet Jeremiah, we hear a promise of restoration and hope from God: “I will gather them from the ends of the world, with the blind and the lame in their midst. . . . They departed in tears, but I will console them and guide them” (31:8–9). This passage speaks to a time of profound upheaval for the Israelites. They had been exiled, scattered, and broken. Yet God promises to gather them back, to bring healing and solace to those who are suffering. The imagery of the blind and the lame represents not only physical ailments but also spiritual and emotional distress.

This image of God gathering His people, including those who are most vulnerable, emphasizes His intimate care for every individual, regardless of their state. God’s promise to console and guide His people is an assurance that His love transcends all boundaries and reaches into the deepest parts of our lives. In our own lives, how often do we find ourselves like the blind and the lame — struggling with our own limitations, sorrows, and weaknesses? Yet God’s promise remains true: He seeks to gather us, heal us, and lead us to His refreshing presence.

In the response, the psalmist reflects upon the Lord working in our lives and makes a joyful proclamation, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy” (126:3). This Psalm is a response to God’s miraculous interventions, celebrating the profound shift from sorrow to joy that occurs when we recognize His work in our lives, especially in the midst of trial and sufferings. Joy is then the fruit of gratitude. When we understand the depth of God’s blessings, our hearts overflow with joy.

This joy is not merely an emotional reaction but a deep-seated realization of God’s enduring goodness. It is an invitation to reflect on how God has acted in our lives and to respond with gratitude and joy. Even in moments of difficulty, this joy serves as a reminder of the constant presence and transformative power of God’s grace. He does not abandon us in our trials.

We recognize through Christ as the great High Priest that He is present to us and the Father and thus intercedes on our behalf. In the letter to the Hebrews, we are reminded of the role of the high priest: “Every high priest is taken from among men and made their representative before God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins” (5:1). The high priest serves as a mediator, bridging the gap between humanity and God by offering sacrifices on behalf of the people.

In his Homilies on the Priesthood, St. John Chrysostom explains that the high priest’s role is to bring humanity closer to God, not through his own strength, but through the grace that God bestows upon him. In Jesus Christ, we see the ultimate fulfillment of this role. Jesus’ priesthood is not limited by time or space; it is an ever-present intercession that reaches into every corner of our lives, offering grace and redemption. Christ, our eternal High Priest, offers Himself as the perfect sacrifice, representing humanity before God and offering us direct access to divine mercy and grace.

In Mark’s Gospel, Bartimaeus hopes for an encounter with divine mercy and grace. The Gospel presents a poignant encounter between Jesus and Bartimaeus, the blind beggar. As Jesus is leaving Jericho, Bartimaeus, sitting by the roadside, cries out for mercy. Despite the crowd’s attempts to silence him, Bartimaeus persists, showing a remarkable faith and determination to cast all abandonment onto the Lord’s mercy. When Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus responds in faith, “Master, I want to see.”

This exchange is deeply significant. Bartimaeus’s request for sight is not just about physical healing but symbolizes a deeper desire for spiritual enlightenment and clarity. Bartimaeus represents the soul’s longing for the light of Christ, which dispels the darkness of ignorance, doubt, and sin.

Jesus’ question to Bartimaeus is an invitation for each of us to articulate our deepest needs and desires. It challenges us to be specific in our requests and to trust in Christ’s willingness and ability to provide for us. Just as Bartimaeus’s faith and persistence led to his healing, our own faith and openness to Christ can bring about profound transformation in our lives, and not just our lives, but the lives of those we encounter.

As followers of Christ, we are called to mirror His compassion and mercy in our daily interactions. Because we are invited to enter into the darkness of the lives of others, we must ask ourselves how can we gather those who are lost, console those who are brokenhearted, and guide those who are seeking direction. Just as Jesus engaged with Bartimaeus personally, we must also engage with those we encounter with empathy, understanding, and a willingness to meet their needs. We may not be able to solve others’ problems, but as in the case of the elderly couple in the airport, we can be a light of hope in their darkness, to see that God did not forget about them.

Today’s Scripture readings offer a powerful message of hope, healing, and joy. God’s promise to gather and console, the joy of recognizing His great deeds, the intercessory role of the high priest, and the personal encounter with Christ all converge to remind us of Christ’s enduring love, grace, and presence. As we reflect on these themes, let us open our hearts to God’s healing and guidance and strive to be instruments of His mercy and joy in the lives of those we encounter. May we, like Bartimaeus, have the courage to seek the light of Christ and may our hope-filled encounters be a reflection of the Lord’s boundless love and compassion.