-
- August 30,2026
- August 23, 2026
- August 16, 2026
- August 9, 2026
- August 2,2026
- July 26, 2026
- July 19.2026
- July 12.2026
- July 5.2026
- June 28.2026
- JUNE 21.2026
- JUNE 14.2026
- JUNE 7.2026
-
Dear Parishioners,
Have you noticed that for the past several weeks our second reading at Sunday Mass has been taken from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans? We will remain with Romans for another two weeks, giving us an opportunity to appreciate one of the most important books of the New Testament.
In Peter Kreeft’s You Can Understand the Bible, his chapter on Romans is entitled “The First Systematic Christian Theology.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge called Romans “the most profound book in existence,” while the biblical scholar Frédéric Godet called it “the cathedral of the Christian faith.” At its heart is Jesus Christ—the new Adam, humanity’s new beginning, and the One in whom the righteousness and saving power of God are revealed.
This weekend we hear one of my favorite passages:
“Do not conform yourselves to this age, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” (Romans 12:2)
There is an entire program of Christian life in that one sentence. Notice that Paul does not simply tell us to behave differently from the world. He tells us to allow God to transform our minds—our thoughts, judgments, desires, words, and ultimately our actions.
We are constantly being formed by something. The question is: What is forming us?
That question is especially important today because television, movies, social media, advertising, music, and the internet surround us every day with words, images, attitudes, and assumptions. With enough exposure, things that once shocked us can begin to seem perfectly ordinary.
I recently saw an advertisement for VidAngel, a service that allows families to filter objectionable material from movies and television. The ad humorously imagined someone being struck by a paintball every time profanity occurred in a movie. It began with the famous line from Gone with the Wind in 1939—language that created enormous controversy then but would hardly make anyone blink today.
That difference is worth thinking about.
Things one generation immediately recognized as crude, vulgar, blasphemous, or inappropriate can gradually become so commonplace that we hardly notice them anymore. That is often how conformity to an age happens. We hear something often enough, see something often enough, or laugh at something often enough, and eventually it no longer troubles us.
I have developed one small habit that I recommend whenever I hear the Lord’s Name taken in vain. Rather than simply becoming irritated, I immediately use His Name properly in prayer:
“Lord Jesus, may Your Holy Name be praised by all people everywhere.”
I call it: “If you say it, pray it!”
It is a small way of refusing to allow something irreverent simply to pass through my mind unnoticed.
Of course, St. Paul is not telling Christians to hide from the world. We must live in the world, understand it, work in it, enjoy what is genuinely good in it, and bring Christ into it.
But there is an important difference between living in the world and allowing the world to live unexamined within us.
Even I notice how easily our standards can shift. I may cringe when an NCIS rerun suddenly shows an autopsy in graphic detail, yet barely notice other things in television or movies simply because I have become accustomed to them. That is worth examining: Have I become so familiar with certain things that I no longer recognize how they are affecting me?
That is why Paul’s words are not merely a warning. They are an invitation:
“Be transformed by the renewal of your mind.”
God gives us the means for that renewal: prayer, Sacred Scripture, the Holy Eucharist, Confession, and a deliberate effort to place ourselves before what is true, good, and beautiful.
The world is catechizing us every day. The question is whether we are allowing Christ to catechize us even more deeply.
Perhaps that is a good question for each of us this week:
Am I being conformed to the world around me, or am I allowing Christ to transform the way I think?
In Christ,
Father Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,
Today’s Gospel brings together two great fields of theology: Christology, the study of who Jesus Christ is, and Ecclesiology, the study of the nature and mission of the Church. Yet the beauty of today’s Gospel is that these are not merely academic subjects. Both begin with a profoundly personal encounter between God and the human heart.
Jesus asks His disciples a question that eventually every Christian must answer: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter responds with the confession of faith that stands at the heart of Christianity: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” To be a Christian is, in some sense, to make Peter’s confession our own. But saying the words is only the beginning. The challenge of discipleship is to bring our thoughts, words, choices, and actions increasingly into harmony with what we profess to believe. If Jesus truly is the Christ, the Son of the living God, then that truth must eventually shape the way I understand myself, the way I treat other people, the decisions I make, and the way I live.
Long before the coming of Christ, Moses told the people of Israel: “This commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away…. No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.” (Deuteronomy 30:11–14) Centuries later, St. Paul takes up those very words and applies them directly to faith in Jesus Christ: “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart… for, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Romans 10:8–9) Notice the movement: the heart, the lips, and the life.
St. Thomas Aquinas explains that faith involves the will. No one can truly believe unwillingly. And because the human person is both body and soul, what we believe within eventually seeks expression outwardly. Christian faith therefore cannot remain merely a private conviction tucked away somewhere in the mind. What we believe in the heart we profess with our lips—and what we profess with our lips we are called to express with our lives. That gives Jesus’ question even greater force: “Who do you say that I am?” We answer it with our hearts. We answer it with our lips. And ultimately, we answer it with our lives.
There is perhaps no moment when this becomes more tangible than when we receive the Holy Eucharist. We leave our pew, approach the altar, and the minister says, “The Body of Christ.” We answer, “Amen.” That little word means: Yes. I believe.
In that moment, with our body and with our lips, we make Peter’s confession our own: You are the Christ, the Son of the living God. And then something remarkable happens in today’s Gospel. Once Peter confesses who Jesus is, Jesus reveals something about who Peter is: You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church.”
Here Christology becomes Ecclesiology. Faith in Christ creates a people. Jesus does not merely gather isolated individuals who privately believe in Him. He builds a Church—visible, apostolic, sacramental—and He entrusts Peter with the keys of the Kingdom. And that Church continues to be built whenever Peter’s confession becomes our own. So perhaps the question we should carry with us this week is not simply, Do I believe in Jesus? but something more demanding: If I truly believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, what should that belief look like in my life? Jesus has already given Himself completely to us. Our response is to give ourselves to Him—with our heart, with our lips, and with our lives.
In Christ,
Father Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,Today’s Gospel contains a moment that, on the surface, can strike us as troubling. Perhaps it reminds us of those uncomfortable occasions when someone we love says something in public that makes us cringe and leaves us wondering, “Did he really just say that?”In Matthew 15, a Canaanite woman approaches Jesus and cries out: “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is tormented by a demon.”But Jesus does not answer her. His disciples come to Him and say, “Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us.” Jesus replies, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Still the woman persists. She comes before Him, does Him homage, and pleads, “Lord, help me.” Jesus then says words that can sound particularly harsh to our ears: “It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs.”What are we to make of this? Is this simply an example of Jesus behaving badly? Did one of the Apostles want to step in and say, “He didn’t mean that!” or “Sorry—He doesn’t know what He’s saying!”?Scott Hahn sees the encounter as a threefold testing of the woman’s faith. First, Jesus does not answer her cry. Then He speaks of His mission to the lost sheep of Israel. Finally, He uses the image of the “dogs,” language that could be used disparagingly of Gentiles. Yet the woman refuses to give up. She continues to believe that Jesus alone can answer her deepest need.The Navarre Bible Commentary sheds another light on the passage: “This dialogue between Jesus and the woman is especially beautiful. By appearing to be harsh he so strengthens the woman’s faith that she deserves exceptional praise: ‘Great is your faith!’”There does seem, at first, to be a disconnect between these harsh-sounding words and the Jesus who will eventually command His disciples: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19).But perhaps it is precisely the discomfort of this Gospel that invites us to look more closely. Notice what the disciples say when the woman continues crying out: “Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us.” They are annoyed. They want the problem—and perhaps the woman herself—to disappear.Could Jesus also be teaching His disciples something through this encounter? By allowing their attitude toward this foreign woman to be brought into the open, Jesus ultimately reveals something they have failed to see: the extraordinary faith of the very person they wanted sent away. The disciples see an annoyance. Jesus sees faith. They see an outsider. Jesus sees someone capable of trusting Him with remarkable perseverance.And finally Jesus declares before them all: “O woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.”The Great Commission comes at the end of Matthew’s Gospel, but the disciples have much to learn before they are ready to hear it. After Pentecost, these same men will be sent beyond the boundaries of Israel to become witnesses of Jesus Christ to the nations. Encounters such as this one are part of their formation.And perhaps they are part of our formation as well. What does it mean for us to have the heart of Jesus in our dealings with others? How easily do we decide that someone is bothersome, difficult, different, or simply “not one of us”? How often might Christ see something in another person that we have completely overlooked?This Gospel makes us pause and think. It may not mean what we first think it means. And there is still another beautiful lesson here: never give up in prayer. This woman refuses to walk away from Jesus. Silence does not discourage her. Difficulty does not discourage her. Even words she does not fully understand do not discourage her. She knows where mercy is to be found, and she stays there.
St. Josemaría Escrivá wrote: “Persevere in prayer. Persevere, even when your efforts seem barren. Prayer is always fruitful.” When heaven seems silent, keep praying. When the answer seems delayed, keep praying. When you are tempted to become discouraged, keep praying. Stay close to the Lord. Trust Him. Persevere.
Never give up.
Never stop praying.~ Fr. Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,
The Responsorial Psalm can easily become the forgotten reading at Mass. We stand to hear the Gospel with great attention. We listen carefully to the First Reading and the Second Reading. But the Psalm often becomes simply a beautiful song between them.
That is unfortunate, because the Psalms are the inspired prayer book of God’s people. They teach us not only what God says to us, but also how we should speak to Him. Every Psalm gives voice to the deepest experiences of the human heart—joy and sorrow, gratitude and fear, confidence and repentance.
This Sunday’s Psalm, Psalm 85, is a wonderful example. It begins by remembering God’s mercy in the past and then confidently asks Him to show that same mercy once again. At its heart are these remarkable words:
“Kindness and truth shall meet; justice and peace shall kiss.”
What a beautiful image! Saint John Paul II reflected on this verse by saying that it paints a picture of a world restored by God’s grace. Mercy, truth, justice, and peace are described almost as living persons who come together once again after having been separated by sin. It is the picture of humanity as God intended it to be.
Of course, we know something the psalmist could only hope for. We know the One in whom this vision has become reality. In Jesus Christ, God’s mercy and truth meet perfectly. In Him, justice and peace truly embrace. Through His Cross and Resurrection, the forgiveness for which Israel longed has been given to the whole world.
That is why this Psalm still speaks so powerfully today. We all carry worries, regrets, sins, and burdens into church each Sunday. Yet the Lord continues to proclaim peace to His people. He invites us not to despair over our weakness but to trust in His mercy.
The next time we sing the Responsorial Psalm, perhaps we can listen a little more carefully. It is not simply a hymn between the readings. It is God’s inspired Word, teaching us how to pray and reminding us that in Christ, mercy has already triumphed.
May the Lord continue to let “kindness and truth meet” in our own hearts as we grow ever closer to Him.
In Christ,
Father Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,
In one of my homiletics classes, I had a wonderful Boston priest as a teacher, Father Jerry Dorgan. Father Jerry emphasized that the first step in delivering a good homily is to proclaim the Word of God with conviction and enthusiasm. One of the readings he used to make his point was this weekend’s Second Reading from the Letter of Saint Paul to the Romans.
Father Jerry had us practice reading this passage almost as though we were shouting the words. At times, the class seemed more like a theater workshop than a course in homiletics! Yet he understood that the tremendous weight and power of these words must be felt if they are truly to be understood. I can easily imagine Saint Paul himself proclaiming them with great passion:
“What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Try reading those words quietly and then reading them aloud with enthusiasm and dramatic emphasis. I think you will discover the wisdom of Father Jerry’s approach. Even though this may not be the way we ordinarily proclaim the readings at Mass, it can help us recognize the confidence, joy, and urgency contained within Saint Paul’s words.
The message that Christ’s love is constant, unchanging, and unfailing is foundational to understanding our relationship with God. Saint Paul does not say that believers will be spared anguish, distress, persecution, hunger, danger, or death. Rather, he tells us that none of these things can separate us from the love of Christ. God’s love remains with us in every trial and is stronger even than death itself.
Today’s Gospel, Saint Matthew’s account of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, points us toward the holy and Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches:
“The miracles of the multiplication of the loaves, when the Lord says the blessing, breaks and distributes the loaves through his disciples to feed the multitude, prefigure the superabundance of this unique bread of his Eucharist. The sign of water turned into wine at Cana already announces the Hour of Jesus’ glorification. It makes manifest the fulfillment of the wedding feast in the Father’s kingdom, where the faithful will drink the new wine that has become the Blood of Christ” (CCC 1335).
With this as our backdrop, we can hear Saint Paul ask once again, “What will separate us from the love of Christ?” Then, moments later at Mass, we hear the words spoken to each communicant: “The Body of Christ.”
The Eucharist is Christ’s abiding answer to Saint Paul’s question. Jesus does not merely assure us from a distance that he loves us. He gives himself to us. Under the appearances of bread and wine, he remains truly present—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. He enters our weakness, nourishes our souls, and draws us more deeply into communion with himself and with one another.
To understand and appreciate this Presence is to glimpse something of the never-ending and never-failing love of God. His love continually seeks us, reaches into our darkness, and draws us toward the light of his glory. The Eucharistic Lord is truly present upon the altar, and he desires to become fully alive within every heart that responds to his love.
When we begin to understand this, we discover the power of a love that can overcome every obstacle placed before it—even death itself. Therefore, let us listen once more to the triumphant words of Saint Paul:
“I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
~Father Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,This is our third consecutive Sunday reflecting on the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. The Navarre Bible Commentary notes that this chapter contains seven of Jesus' parables and is often called the "Parable Discourse" or the "Kingdom Parables." These teachings were delivered along the shores of Lake Gennesaret—better known as the Sea of Galilee—where Jesus used the familiar sights and experiences of everyday life to reveal the mysteries of the Kingdom of God. At the conclusion of this chapter, Jesus leaves the lakeshore and returns to His hometown of Nazareth, where He is rejected by many who think they already know Him. His message about the Kingdom requires people to see with new eyes.
Two weeks ago, our Gospel presented the Parable of the Sower. Jesus described a farmer scattering seed generously over every kind of soil. Some seed fell on the path, some among the rocks, some among the thorns, and some on rich soil that produced an abundant harvest. Last week, we heard the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds, reminding us that good and evil continue to exist side by side until the final judgment. Today, Jesus concludes His "Parable Discourse" with three brief images: a treasure hidden in a field, a merchant searching for a pearl of great price, and fishermen sorting the catch brought in by their nets. Together, these parables invite us to reflect on our own journey of faith.
The first parable tells of a man who unexpectedly discovers a treasure buried in a field. He immediately recognizes its immense value and, filled with joy, sells everything he owns in order to purchase that field. Some people discover Christ in much the same way. A tragedy, a serious illness, the death of a loved one, or even an unexpected invitation to Mass suddenly opens their hearts to God. What appears to be an accident becomes a moment of grace. The message of Christ, especially in moments of suffering and loss, offers something the world cannot give: the hope of eternal life. As Jesus assures us, "In my Father's house there are many dwelling places."
The second parable speaks of a merchant intentionally searching for fine pearls. He represents those who spend years seeking truth and meaning. They ask difficult questions, study the Scriptures, explore different traditions, and sincerely search for God. Many eventually discover that the fullness of what they have been seeking has been present in the Catholic faith all along—in the Word of God faithfully preserved, in the Sacraments, and most especially in the Holy Eucharist. Their search culminates in the joyful discovery of the Pearl of Great Price: Jesus Christ Himself.
Finally, Jesus tells of fishermen casting a net into the sea that gathers fish of every kind. Once ashore, the fish are sorted, the good being kept and the bad discarded. Jesus Himself explains that this points to the final judgment. The Church gathers saints and sinners alike. All of us are still "in the net," still being formed by God's grace. Every day the Lord offers us another opportunity to repent, to grow in holiness, and to prepare for the day when we will stand before Him.
Notice what all three of today's parables have in common. In every case, the Kingdom of God is worth everything. The man sells all he has to buy the field. The merchant sells everything to obtain the pearl. The fishermen patiently labor until the work is complete. Once they recognize the incomparable value of God's Kingdom, everything else becomes secondary. Jesus is teaching us that nothing compares to knowing Him and belonging to His Kingdom.
Each of us has traveled a different road to the Heart of Jesus. Some encounter Him unexpectedly. Some spend years searching before finding Him. Others have faithfully remained in the Church all their lives and continue to discover ever more deeply the priceless treasure they have possessed all along. Whatever our story, the invitation is the same: to recognize the incomparable gift that God has placed before us and to respond with generous and joyful hearts.
The Navarre Bible Commentary beautifully summarizes the power of Jesus' teaching in parables:
"On Jesus' lips, parables are exceptionally effective. By using parables he keeps his listeners' attention, whether they are uneducated or not, and by means of the most ordinary things of daily life he sheds light on the deepest supernatural mysteries. He used the parable device in a masterly way; his parables are quite unique; they carry the seal of his personality; through them he has graphically shown us the riches of grace, the life of the Church, the demands of the faith and even the mystery of God's own inner life."
~Fr. Chris
-
~Father Chris
Dear Parishioners,
This weekend we continue reading from St. Paul’s magnificent Letter to the Romans. It is one of the richest theological writings in all of Sacred Scripture, and Chapter 8—our reading this weekend—is often considered its summit. Throughout this chapter, St. Paul reveals the astonishing closeness of God to His people and the incredible gift of the Holy Spirit dwelling within us.
Listen again to these beautiful words:
The Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes with inexpressible groanings. And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because he intercedes for the holy ones according to God’s will.
This passage has always fascinated me. It seems to describe something mysterious that happens every time we pray. God never forces Himself upon us. He lovingly waits for us to open the door. But once we do, the Holy Spirit begins to work within us in ways we can scarcely comprehend.
When St. Paul speaks of the Spirit’s “inexpressible groanings,” I picture the Holy Spirit gently drawing me closer to God. He is praying within me, helping me surrender my sins, fears, doubts, and attachments so that I can receive more fully the Father’s love. He strengthens holy desires within my heart and gradually conforms my will to God’s own will.
Sometimes our prayer can become little more than a list of things we want God to do for us. Yet even then, something beautiful is happening. The very act of turning toward God places us in His presence. We are no longer alone. We are allowing ourselves to be loved.
St. Josemaría Escrivá once wrote, “We’ve got to be filled, to be imbued with the idea that our Father—and very much our Father—is God who is both near us and in heaven.” Prayer helps us grow into that reality. Even when our words seem inadequate, the Holy Spirit is praying within us, leading us into a deeper friendship with the Lord.
So pray. Open your heart to God often. Spend time with Him, not simply because you need something, but because you want to know Him. Be generous in praying for others as well. You may be the only person who has ever prayed—or who ever will pray—for someone who desperately needs God’s grace. To pray is to participate in the saving mission of Jesus Christ, who desires that all people come to know His love and the joy of His Kingdom.
I remember the day I was confirmed as a seventh grader. I told Cardinal Humberto Medeiros, then Archbishop of Boston, that I wanted to become a priest. His response was wonderfully simple: “Pray! Pray! Pray!” At the time I thought, “Is that it?” It seemed almost disappointing. Today I understand the wisdom of his advice. He knew that every vocation, every friendship with Christ, every moment of holiness begins there. Had I listened to him a little sooner, I might not have waited until I was forty-seven to be ordained!
May the Holy Spirit continue to pray within each of us, drawing us ever more deeply into the infinite love of God.
In Christ,
-
Dear Parishioners,
In the longer form of this weekend’s Gospel (Matthew 13:1-23), we hear Jesus not only proclaim the Parable of the Sower but also explain it to His Apostles so that they, in turn, could teach it to others. He describes four kinds of soil—the path, the rocky ground, the thorny ground, and the rich soil—and in doing so He invites each of us to ask a simple but searching question: What kind of soil is my heart? Do I truly hear the Word of God, receive it, and allow it to bear fruit, or do the distractions, anxieties, and temptations of daily life keep it from taking root?
Jesus also explains why He teaches in parables: “They look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.” His words remind us that hearing is more than simply listening with our ears. It is opening our minds and hearts to God’s truth and allowing it to change us.
St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans offers another beautiful insight for our reflection. He speaks of all creation waiting “with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” Beautiful language—but what does Paul mean? We remember that Jesus taught us to call God our Father. Deep within every human heart is a longing for that relationship with Him. St. Augustine expressed it perfectly when he wrote, “You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”
That restlessness is one of God’s gifts. It reminds us that we were made for something greater than ourselves. When we drift away from God, we often experience confusion, emptiness, and a lack of peace. As Psalm 82 observes, “They have neither knowledge nor understanding; they walk about in darkness.” Yet God never abandons us. Like the farmer in this weekend’s Psalm, He patiently prepares the soil of our hearts, softening and nourishing it so that His grace may take root and bear abundant fruit.
To grow in the spiritual life, we must deliberately open our eyes to the light of Christ and our hearts to His voice. That is why spending time each day with Sacred Scripture is so important. Prayer is a conversation with God, and like every good conversation, it requires both speaking and listening. Sometimes we are so busy telling God what is on our minds that we leave little room for Him to speak to us.
St. Paul reminds us of the mysterious and consoling presence of the Holy Spirit within us: “The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.” There is something deeply comforting in those words. Even when we struggle to pray, the Holy Spirit is already praying within us, drawing us closer to the Father.
May we ask the Lord this week to make our hearts like rich soil—ready to receive His Word, eager to live it, and willing to bear fruit that will last.
God bless you,
~Fr. Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,
I have often mentioned that one of my favorite prayers of the Mass is the prayer the priest or deacon says when adding a single drop of water to the chalice during the Preparation of the Gifts. Spoken quietly—almost in a whisper—it says:
“By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the Divinity of Christ, who humbled Himself to share in our humanity.”
I have always loved that prayer because, as a boy serving daily Mass at St. Laurence’s, I was the one who placed that drop of water into the chalice while Father Glynn whispered those words. Because he spoke them so softly, I was often the only person who heard them. It felt like a sacred secret shared between priest and altar server.
Serving Father Glynn had another advantage as well. If I made it to the 7:00 a.m. Mass every day for the entire week, on Friday he would hand me a dollar. I would promptly cross the street to Jackson’s Bakery and spend it on fresh-from-the-oven Hot Cross Buns, covered with that warm, sugary cross that melted into every bite. One of the many joys of daily Mass! But I digress…
My liturgy professor once explained that this simple mingling of water and wine beautifully symbolizes the whole mystery of salvation. The tiny drop of water represents all of humanity. The wine represents Christ and His Precious Blood poured out for us on the Cross. The water disappears completely into the wine, just as we are called to lose ourselves in Christ. Our sins, too, disappear into the infinite mercy won for us by His sacrifice.
Today’s Gospel (Matthew 11:25-30) begins with these beautiful words:
“I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones.”
Jesus does not call us because we are wise or accomplished. He does not wait until we are perfect. He calls us because He loves us with an everlasting love. As we open ourselves to that love, we begin to share more deeply in His life. We become less occupied with ourselves and more filled with Him. Then something beautiful happens: people begin to see Jesus in us.
Perhaps that is why those childhood memories remain so precious to me. Looking back, I realize that Jesus was present in every one of those daily Masses. He was truly present in the Holy Eucharist, nourishing my soul long before I fully understood the mystery I was receiving. Yet His presence was also reflected in the kindness of a gentle priest and, yes, even in the simple delight of a warm Hot Cross Bun. The hidden Christ of the altar became visible through ordinary acts of goodness, generosity, and joy.
Perhaps this is not the deepest theological reflection you will read this week. But maybe that is precisely the point. Jesus rejoices that the deepest mysteries of God’s love are often grasped not first by the wise and the learned, but by little ones with open hearts.
May we become that little drop of water, gladly disappearing into Christ, so completely united with Him that others encounter His love whenever they meet us.
Remember: you are the face of Jesus to His little ones.
~ Father Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,
The words Jesus speaks in this Sunday’s Gospel from Matthew can seem difficult at first hearing:
“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”
What is Jesus trying to teach us? Are the First Commandment, which calls us to love God above all things, and the Fourth Commandment, which commands us to honor our father and mother, somehow in conflict? Certainly not.
Jesus is teaching us about the radical demands of discipleship and the extraordinary rewards that follow for those who remain faithful. He leaves no room for half-hearted commitment. He calls us to place Him first—even before our closest relationships and our own desires.
Why does Jesus ask so much of us? Because He is God. His call to discipleship is an invitation to share in the very life of God, which is love itself. The love we have for our parents, children, spouses, and friends does not compete with our love for God; rather, it flows from Him. God is the source of every authentic love. The more deeply we love Him, the more fully and generously we are able to love others.
Jesus understands this perfectly. He knows that when we receive God’s love and pass it on to others, we participate in the very mission for which He came into the world. This is the heart of Christian discipleship. While its demands may sometimes seem overwhelming, the path of discipleship ultimately leads to deeper love, lasting joy, authentic peace, and eternal life.
For this reason, Jesus teaches us to love in the proper order: God first and above all else. This is not a selfish demand on His part. Rather, it is the path to the fullest and most generous love possible—a love revealed in His own suffering and death on the Cross.
St. Josemaría Escrivá beautifully expressed this truth:
“People who are constantly concerned with themselves, who act above all for their own satisfaction, endanger their eternal salvation and cannot avoid being unhappy even in this life. Only if a person forgets himself and gives himself to God and to others, in marriage as well as in any other aspect of life, can he be happy on this earth, with a happiness that is a preparation for, and a foretaste of, the joy of heaven” (Christ Is Passing By, 24).
Discipleship is not easy, but it is necessary. There is no Christianity without the Cross. Jesus did not avoid the Cross Himself, and He does not ask us to avoid it either. Not because He desires our suffering, but because He knows that suffering embraced out of love can become redemptive. When borne for the sake of another, sacrifice becomes an expression of the highest form of love—a love that reflects the self-giving love of Christ Himself.
May we have the courage to place Christ first in our lives, trusting that in losing ourselves for His sake, we will discover the abundant life He promises.
~ Fr. Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,One of the blessings we have experienced over the past year is seeing more people return to Mass and participate in parish life. We welcome new faces and growing families every weekend, and for that, we give thanks to God.
At the same time, we have noticed a concerning trend. While Mass attendance has increased, our weekly offertory has remained flat and, in some weeks, has declined. Our weekly offertory is made up of the Weekly Offertory collections at Mass; Mail-In and Online Giving contributions to the weekly offertory, Grand Annual, and Catch-Up collections; Catch-Up contributions, and Grand Annual contributions. Because the weekly offertory is the primary source of funding for our parish, this deserves our attention.
The weekly offertory supports the day-to-day mission and operation of our parish, including celebration of the sacraments, faith formation ministries, outreach efforts, staff salaries, utilities, property insurance, and building maintenance. These offertory contributions make our parish a vibrant community of faith.
Over the past several years, our parish has been blessed by the prudent use of proceeds from the sale of Saint Mary Church. Those funds not only allowed us to establish an endowment that will help sustain St. Matthew Parish for many years to come, but also allowed us to eliminate debt, complete critical repairs, and strengthen our financial foundation. While we are committed to managing these resources responsibly for the future, these reserve funds were never intended to replace the weekly offertory. Our goal is to ensure our current needs are met through the faithful stewardship of our parish community.
Like every household, the parish faces rising costs. While we continue the careful management of expenses, seek efficiencies, and make prudent financial decisions, the long-term health of our parish depends upon the consistent support of those who call Saint Matthew the Evangelist their spiritual home.
I would like to ask every parish household to prayerfully review its current level of giving. If your circumstances permit, please consider increasing your weekly gift by $5, $10, or $20. What may seem a small amount ~ the cost of a weekly cup of coffee, lunch, or pizza ~ makes a significant difference when multiplied across our entire community.
I also encourage everyone to remain consistent in your support throughout the year, especially during the summer months. Even when families are traveling, the parish’s expenses continue. Online Giving is an excellent way to provide this consistent support. Recurring gifts help the parish plan responsibly and ensure that your support continues even when you are away. Online giving is available at billericacatholic.org/give now.
Finally, while we are grateful for the generosity toward special collections, please remember that the first collection is what keeps our parish operating week after week.
Thank you for your generosity, your prayers, and your commitment to St. Matthew the Evangelist Parish. Together, we can preserve what has been entrusted to us and strengthen our parish for the future.
May God bless you and your families.
~ Father Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,Although we returned to Ordinary Time the day after Pentecost, we have not seen the return of green vestments until this weekend. The Sundays following Pentecost are marked by two great Solemnities: The Most Holy Trinity and The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi). Today we welcome the green vestments once again as we celebrate the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time.It is worth remembering that "Ordinary Time" does not mean ordinary in the sense of commonplace or unimportant. The word comes from the Latin ordinalis, meaning "numbered." Ordinary Time consists of 33 or 34 weeks and is divided into two periods: the first extends from the day after the Baptism of the Lord until Ash Wednesday, and the second from the day after Pentecost until the First Sunday of Advent.The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops offers this beautiful description of Ordinary Time:"Christmas Time and Easter Time highlight the central mysteries of salvation: the Incarnation, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus Christ, and the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Ordinary Time, on the other hand, takes us through the life and teachings of Christ. It is a time of conversion, growth, and maturation, when the mystery of Christ is called to penetrate ever more deeply into our lives until all things are finally gathered into Him."Today's Gospel from Saint Matthew marks an important moment in the ministry of Jesus. Having proclaimed the Kingdom of God and demonstrated its power through healing, forgiveness, and mercy, Jesus now entrusts that mission to His disciples. He commissions the Twelve Apostles and sends them forth to proclaim the Kingdom in both word and deed.The number twelve is significant, recalling the twelve tribes of Israel and highlighting the continuity between God's covenant with Israel and the Church founded by Christ. Matthew also refers to the Twelve as "apostles," a word that means "those who are sent." Their mission is not merely to follow Jesus, but to continue His work in the world.That mission did not end with the Apostles. Through the Sacraments of Initiation—Baptism, Confirmation, and the Holy Eucharist—we too are incorporated into Christ and sent forth as His disciples. The Church is the continuing presence of Christ in the world, and each of us has a role to play in His mission.As we journey through Ordinary Time, may we never think of these weeks as spiritually routine. Rather, they are an invitation to grow in holiness, deepen our relationship with Christ, and allow His grace to bear fruit in our lives. May we faithfully carry His light into our homes, workplaces, schools, and communities, sharing the truth and love of Jesus Christ in all that we say and do.~Fr. Chris
-
Dear Parishioners,Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ—also known as Corpus Christi. This feast is a precious moment in the life of the Church when we set aside a Sunday to praise and give thanks for the gift of the Eucharist. It is also a time to refresh our understanding and renew our commitment to the Real Presence of Jesus Christ—Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity—in the Blessed Sacrament.In his classic work The Church’s Year of Grace, Pius Parsch writes: “Corpus Christi (Body and Blood of Christ) is a Eucharistic solemnity, or better, the solemn commemoration of the institution of that sacrament. It is, moreover, the Church’s official act of homage and gratitude to Christ, who by instituting the Holy Eucharist gave to the Church her greatest treasure. Holy Thursday, assuredly, marks the anniversary of the institution, but the commemoration of the Lord’s passion that very night suppresses the rejoicing proper to the occasion. Today’s observance, therefore, accents the joyous aspect of Holy Thursday.”The Mass for Corpus Christi was composed by St. Thomas Aquinas at the request of Pope Urban IV in the year 1264. St. Thomas had a profound devotion to the Eucharistic Lord. In addition to composing today’s liturgical prayers, he also wrote the Office of Readings and several beloved Eucharistic hymns: “Adoro Te Devote,” “Pange Lingua,” “O Salutaris Hostia,” and “Tantum Ergo Sacramentum.” A man of immense intellect and theological depth, St. Thomas remains the Church’s “go-to” guide for Catholic doctrine—especially through his masterwork, the Summa Theologica. But it is his deep love for the Eucharist that truly reveals the heart of his faith. He once wrote: “Desirous that we be made partakers of His divinity, the only-begotten Son of God took to Himself our nature, so that having become man, He might make men gods. Whatever He assumed of our nature, He wrought unto our salvation. For on the altar of the Cross, He immolated to the Father His own Body as a victim for our reconciliation, and shed His Blood both for our ransom and our regeneration.Moreover, in order that a remembrance of so great benefits may always remain with us, He left us His Body as food and His Blood as drink under the appearances of bread and wine.” In the hymn Adoro Te Devote, the sixth verse reads:“O good and loving pelican, Jesus my Lord!Unclean I am, but cleanse me in Thy Blood;Of which a single drop, for sinners spilt,Is ransom for a world’s entire guilt.”This poetic image of the pelican comes from an ancient legend, predating Christianity. It was
believed that in times of famine, a mother pelican would wound herself, striking her breast with her beak to feed her young with her own blood. Another version tells of a mother pelican reviving her dying young at the cost of her own life. Early Christians adopted this powerful image to symbolize Christ, who gave His life to nourish and redeem His children through His Passion and Death. Thus, the pelican became a symbol of the Eucharist: Christ feeding us with His very life.Although later observations revealed that pelicans do not actually wound themselves in this way, the symbolism remains powerful. One explanation notes that during breeding season, the pouch of the Dalmatian pelican turns red, and they often rest their beaks on their chests—giving rise to the myth that so deeply resonated with the early Church. As one author quipped, “What is not true of the pelican is true of our Lord.” Indeed, Jesus did suffer wounds for our sake—and “by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).Take time at Mass today to reflect and prepare yourself for the worthy reception of Jesus in the Eucharist. Listen closely to the priest’s words as he echoes St. John the Baptist:“Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the Supper of the Lamb.”
You are called to this great Eucharistic feast. Know whom you are receiving.~Fr. Chris