Saturday, October 17, 2026

Homily for Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A


The readings for Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time may be found at:


https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/101826.cfm


In today's Gospel, the evangelist St. Matthew 

takes us back to Jerusalem, 

when the Jewish people 

were living under Roman occupation.

And life under Roman rule wasn't easy.

They were required to pay taxes to Caesar, 

the Roman emperor.

And many weren't happy about it.

Two thousand years later, I think some of us can relate.

But there was something else troubling about this tax.

It was paid using a Roman coin called a denarius, 

bearing the image of Emperor Tiberius, 

with an inscription identifying him 

as the son of Augustus, 

who had been declared divine.

For the Jewish people, 

who believed in the one true God, 

that claim of divine status didn't sit well.

So this wasn't just about taxes.

It was about faith, loyalty, and ultimately, 

who deserved their allegiance - Caesar or God.

Now, some of the Pharisees, 

influential religious teachers, 

were becoming uncomfortable with Jesus 

because He challenged their understanding of God's Law 

and their religious authority.

So they come up with a plan to trap Him.

If Jesus says to pay the tax, 

He upsets the Jewish people. 

But if He says not to pay it, 

He could be accused of opposing Rome.

They think they've put Jesus in a no win situation.

Good luck with that!

So they ask Him, 

"Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?"

To which Jesus asks whose image appears on the coin.

When they answer, "Caesar's," He replies:

"Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God."

He speaks those words to them, 

but He speaks them also to us.

We know what we give to Caesar.

But how much do we really give to God?

The denarius, the coin

bore Caesar's image on it.

But whose image do we bear?

And we don't have to look very far into the Bible to find the answer. 

In the very first chapter of Genesis, we hear -

"God created mankind in his image; in the image of God he created them."

You and I bear the image of God.

And through our Baptism, we became adopted children of God and members of His Church.

We belong to God.

And that should change everything.

But does it?

We come to Mass on the weekend, and that's important. 

It's part of our obligation to worship God.

But our faith shouldn't begin and end at church.

It should change the way we live.

The way we treat our spouse.

The patience we show our children.

The way we speak about someone who has hurt us.

The honesty we bring to our work.

The kindness we show someone who can do nothing for us in return.

Because being Catholic isn't simply about what we believe.

It's about allowing what we believe 

to change who we become.

And that's not always easy.

We sin. 

We make mistakes. 

And sometimes, probably more often than we realize, 

we put our own desires ahead of God's will.

And that's why Jesus gave us the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

When we fall short, God doesn't abandon us.

He invites us to return, confess our sins, 

receive His forgiveness, and begin again.

And in just a few moments, 

something extraordinary will happen here at the altar.

Through the words of consecration 

and the power of the Holy Spirit, 

the bread and wine 

will become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.

Not a symbol.

But Jesus Himself, 

truly and substantially present - 

Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.

In today's Gospel, 

Jesus tells us to give God what belongs to God.

But before we give anything to God, 

God gives Himself completely to us in the Eucharist.

And every time we receive Holy Communion worthily, 

He strengthens us to become more like Him.

That's what our Catholic faith calls us to - 

growing in holiness through God's grace.

So maybe there's one question 

we can take home and pray about 

this coming week.

If someone looked at the way we live, 

would they recognize the image of God in us?

Would they see His mercy in the way we forgive?

His compassion in the way we treat others?

His love in the way we care for our family?

Because Caesar's image may have been stamped on a piece of metal.

But God's image is stamped on our souls.

May the way we live, 

the way we love, 

and the way we serve others 

reflect the One whose image we bear.

Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar.

And give to God what belongs to God.

Because when all is said and done -

We belong to God.


Saturday, September 19, 2026

Homily for John 1:35-42 - Order of Christian Initiation of Adults

Gospel for OCIA 09/20/26 10:30am Mass is John 1:35-42 found at:

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%201%3A35-42&version=NRSVCE


In this gospel 

from the evangelist Saint John,

there’s a simple question 

that goes right to the heart 

of our faith.

John the Baptist is standing 

with two of his disciples 

when Jesus walks by.

John looks at Jesus 

and says,

“Behold, the Lamb of God.”

Those words 

should sound familiar to us.

We hear them at every Mass, 

when the priest holds up the Eucharist and says,

“Behold the Lamb of God, 

behold him 

who takes away the sins of the world.”

When the two disciples hear John’s words, 

they begin to follow Jesus.

And Jesus turns around 

and asks them,

“What are you looking for?”

Which is interesting, isn’t it?

Jesus could have asked, 

“Who are you?”

He could have asked, 

“Why are you following me?”

Instead, 

He asks,

“What are you looking for?”

And I think Jesus asks every one of us 

that same question all the time.

What are you looking for?

Maybe it’s peace.

Maybe forgiveness.

Maybe direction in our life.

Maybe a deeper relationship with God.

Maybe we’re carrying something today 

that nobody else in this church knows about, 

and we’re simply hoping 

God will help us.

We all 

come through those doors 

looking for something.

And today, 

we have some brothers and sisters with us,

in the inquiry phase of OCIA,

The Order of Christian Initiation of Adults

who are exploring more deeply 

what it means to follow Christ 

in the Catholic Church.

To each of them, 

I hope 

you hear Jesus speaking personally to you today,

“What are you looking for?”

You may not completely know the answer yet.

And that's okay.

Because neither did those first disciples.

They simply ask Jesus, 

“Where are you staying?”

Yet, Jesus gives them 

one of the simplest invitations 

in all of Sacred Scripture,

“Come, and you will see.”

He doesn't give them all the answers.

He doesn't explain everything that lies ahead.

He simply invites them 

to take the next step.

To come and see.

And that 

is not only an invitation for OCIA,

it’s an invitation 

for every one of us here.

Because none of us 

ever finishes 

becoming a disciple of Jesus.

Whether we’ve been exploring the Catholic faith 

for eight weeks, 

or eight years 

or eighty years, 

Jesus continues to invite us 

to come closer.

The Catechism tells us 

that “the desire for God 

is written in the human heart.”

There is something in us 

that keeps searching for Him.

And the beautiful truth of our faith is 

that long before we begin searching for Him, 

God is already searching for us.

And look 

at what happens next.

Andrew spends time with Jesus, 

and then immediately 

goes looking for his brother Simon.

He tells him,

“We have found the Messiah.”

And “Then he brought him to Jesus.”

Andrew, 

didn't have all the answers.

He didn't give Peter 

a theology lesson.

He simply brought him to Jesus.

And that 

is what we’re all called to do.

Parents, 

bringing their children to Jesus.

Husbands and wives, 

encouraging one another in faith.

Friends inviting friends to Mass.

Parishioners welcoming someone 

who walks through these doors 

for the first time.

And maybe, 

that’s how those 

in the inquiry stage of OCIA 

got here.

Someone planted a seed.

Someone answered a question.

Someone offered an invitation.

Someone lived their Catholic faith 

in a way that made another person curious.

That helped bring someone to Jesus.

In a few moments, 

we will hear the words of John the Baptist again,

“Behold the Lamb of God.”

And this time, 

our attention will not be 

on Jesus walking beside the Jordan.

It will be on this altar,

where Jesus Christ 

is truly present in the Eucharist.

So, whether we are exploring the faith 

or have been receiving 

the Eucharist our entire life, 

Jesus asks us the same question,

“What are you looking for?”

Giving us the same invitation,

“Come, and you will see.”

Maybe this coming week 

our prayer can be very simple,

“Jesus, 

help me follow You 

more closely.”

And maybe, 

Just maybe,

like Andrew, 

we can do one more thing along the way,

bring someone else 

a little closer to Jesus

in the process.


Homily for Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year A


The readings for Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time may be found at:

https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/092026.cfm

In today’s first reading,

the Lord tells us through the prophet Isaiah,

“My thoughts are not your thoughts,

nor are your ways my ways.”

And today’s Gospel 

shows us exactly what that means.

Jesus tells us about a landowner who goes out looking for

workers for his vineyard.

Some begin early in the morning.

Others start at nine, noon, three, and even five o’clock,

when the workday is almost over.

And at the end of the day,

when it’s time to receive the day’s pay,

everyone receives the same wage.

The person who worked one hour 

receives the same amount

as the person who worked all day.

And that doesn’t seem very fair, does it?

Yet the workers who started early weren’t cheated.

They received exactly what was promised.

Their problem wasn’t that they received too little.

Their problem

was that somebody else received more

then they thought that person deserved.

And that’s where this Gospel becomes real for us.

Because sometimes

we’re more comfortable with judgment

then we are with grace.

We look at another person’s life,

their choices, their sins, their past

and decide what we think they deserve.

Who’s been faithful enough.

Who’s done enough.

Who deserves mercy.

But that’s not our job.

We don’t own the vineyard.

God does.

God knows the whole story.

And God alone is the judge.

Sometimes we want a God of judgment

when we’re looking at somebody else’s sins -

but a God of mercy

when we’re looking at our own.

But our God is perfectly just

and infinitely merciful.

And thank God for that,

because none of us stands before God

on the strength of what we’ve earned.

If God gave each of us only what we deserved,

who among us could stand before Him?

The Catechism teaches that grace

is the “free and undeserved help” God gives us.

Grace is not something God owes us.

It’s His gift.

We can’t earn it.

And that’s what we can learn from the vineyard.

The landowner keeps going out.

Morning.

Noon.

Afternoon.

And even when the day is almost finished,

He goes out again.

Why?

Because there are still people waiting.

That is our God.

He never stops coming out looking for us.

Some encounter Christ early

and remain close to Him throughout their lives.

Some wander away

and return years later.

And some may turn toward Him

only near the end of their lives.

Like the good thief hanging beside Jesus on the Cross.

With no lifetime of service to offer.

No time to make up for his past.

He simply said,

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

And Jesus answered,

“Today you will be with me in Paradise.”

The good thief entered the vineyard

at the very last hour.

And we know him as Saint Dismas.

That is grace.

That is mercy.

And maybe that’s what Jesus is asking us to remember today.

That, it’s not our job to decide

what another person deserves.

It’s our job to remember

how much we need mercy ourselves.

Whether we came to the vineyard early or late,

every one of us is there because God called us.

Every one of us is a sinner in need of grace.

Every time we come to Confession,

we come asking for that mercy.

And every time we approach this altar,

we say,

“Lord, I am not worthy

that you should enter under my roof.”

And despite our unworthiness -

He comes.

He gives us His own Body and Blood.

Not because we deserve Him,

but because He loves us.

And when we really understand

how much mercy God has shown us,

maybe, we can stop keeping score.

We can stop judging.

And instead, become more grateful.

So maybe this week, 

each of us can think of one person we’ve been judging.

Someone whose choices we don’t understand.

Whose past we haven’t forgotten.

Someone we’re not sure deserves another chance.


And instead of judging that person,

pray for them.

Ask God to show them the same mercy

we hope He will show us.

And then thank God

for all the times He has shown that mercy to us.

Because God’s mercy is greater

than anything we could ever earn,

and His grace is greater

than anything we could ever deserve.