Why I Take a Strong Stand Against Anti-Muslim Sentiments

 

I think I need to explain my particularly strong stance against anti-Muslim sentiments, especially those that have surfaced in recent days. I know that some people are wondering why I, as a Catholic priest, would not oppose the expansion of Muslim presence in this country, particularly in elected politics.

I have three reasons for my position:

• I am a Catholic and a priest.

• I believe in logic, reason and evidence.

• My personal history with prejudice has made me particularly sensitive to it.

First, I am a Catholic and a priest.

My understanding of Islam and my attitude towards Muslims are guided by Catholic teaching, beautifully articulated in the Vatican documents Lumen Gentium and, especially, Nostra Aetate.

Put simply, Christians and Muslims differ in their understanding of God and of some fundamental matters of faith. Nevertheless, we also share important beliefs about God and the moral life. The Church therefore recognizes what we hold in common and calls us to mutual understanding and cooperation. As Nostra Aetate puts it, the Church regards Muslims with esteem (NA, 3).

This teaching does not require me to agree with everything Islam teaches, any more than it requires me to compromise my Christian faith. However, it does prohibit me from denigrating Islam or Muslims simply because they are Muslim. I can disagree with particular religious beliefs, just as I can criticize specific actions committed by individuals in the name of religion. But I must make that distinction.

Second, I believe in logic, reason and evidence.

My philosophical training has taught me to draw conclusions on the basis of evidence and sound logical reasoning. I cannot therefore condemn Muslims, collectively or individually, without evidence of wrongdoing.

To do so would be prejudice. The very word suggests pre-judgment: judging someone or something before having sufficient knowledge or evidence.

I recall an interview that Cardinal Timothy Dolan gave several years ago, when Mitt Romney was running for president. He made the point, in essence, that there might be reasons for Catholics not to vote for Romney, but his being a Mormon could not be one of them.

The same principle applies here. There may be legitimate reasons not to vote for or support a particular Muslim candidate. But his or her being Muslim, in itself, cannot be one of them.

We must judge candidates by their character, competence, policies, actions and suitability for public office, not simply by their religious identity.

Third, my personal experience has made me particularly sensitive to prejudice.

Prejudice is one of those things that particularly gets me riled up, perhaps because of my own personal history of being on its receiving end.

Whether it is being pre-judged because of my height or accent, tribe or language, nationality or race, I consider such pre-judgment both a failure of reason and an injustice to the truth.

I know that it takes a little more effort to assess each person and each situation on its own merits. Prejudice offers a convenient shortcut: it allows us to reach conclusions without doing the work of knowing, understanding and judging fairly. But that shortcut cannot be the answer.

In explaining the Eighth Commandment, the Catechism of the Catholic Church identifies detraction and calumny as offences against the virtues of justice and charity (CCC, 2479). Our words about others, therefore, are not morally inconsequential. We have an obligation to respect their dignity and reputation.

* * * * * * *

And so, I particularly urge my Catholic brothers and sisters to desist from denigrating Muslims and their religion. If we have criticisms to make, let them concern specific beliefs, statements, policies or actions. Let those criticisms be supported by evidence rather than ideological speculation or sweeping generalizations.

We do not have to agree with Muslims on everything. We do not have to support every Muslim candidate or political position. But neither should we condemn people simply because they are Muslim.

This is not merely what the Church asks of us. It is also what reason, justice and basic human decency demand of us.

NOSTRA AETATE

Homily Ordinary 32A: Keeping our lamps oiled up

 Homily for Ordinary Time – 32^nd Sunday Year A 2026

Introduction

For us who live in the Northern Hemisphere, the fall season, especially the month of November, provides a beautiful backdrop for reflecting on the end times. During this season, daylight becomes shorter, darkness descends much earlier, and the trees begin shedding their leaves. There is something about this season that reminds us of the passing nature of life.

It is no coincidence that our liturgical calendar, during these last weeks of Ordinary Time, invites us to reflect on the end: the end of our earthly lives and the end of the world as we know it.

Today, I would like us to reflect on what the Church traditionally calls the Four Last Things: Death, Judgment, Heaven and Hell.

Scripture and Theology

Today's Gospel gives us a parable that speaks directly about the end. Jesus tells us about ten virgins who take their lamps and go out to meet the bridegroom. He is delayed, and while they are waiting, all ten fall asleep. But at midnight, the announcement come: "Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!"

Only five had brought extra oil for their lamps. These Jesus calls the wise virgins, while the others are foolish. When the bridegroom arrives, the wise ones enter the feast, and the door is locked. When the foolish ones arrive, it is too late. Jesus concludes: "Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour."

The bridegroom represents Christ, who will come again at the end of time. The ten virgins represent us, his disciples, waiting for his coming, and their lamps represent our readiness to meet the Lord.

There is an interesting connection here with our first reading, which speaks about Wisdom. The wise person is one who knows what truly matters and prepares accordingly. The foolish person, on the other hand, lives without sufficient thought for what lies ahead.

And so the message is simple: Christ will come again, but we do not know when. It could be today, next year, or centuries from now. What matters is that we are prepared, with enough oil in our lamps, whenever he comes.

This is precisely what St. Paul describes in today's second reading. He speaks of the Lord's return in dramatic terms: "For the Lord himself, with a word of command, with the voice of an archangel and with the trumpet of God, will come down from heaven." He then describes how the dead in Christ will rise and those still alive will be caught up together with them to meet the Lord.

Paul is describing the Lord's return in glory and the resurrection of the dead, events that will bring history to its fulfillment and lead to the Last Judgment. Jesus describes this judgment in the parable of the sheep and the goats, when he will separate those who have loved and served him from those who have failed to do so. The Catechism explains that this judgment will reveal the ultimate meaning of God's plan of salvation (CCC 1040).

But there is another judgment, what Catholic teaching calls the Particular Judgment, which takes place immediately after death. Each person then stands before God and receives judgment according to his or her faith and deeds. As Jesus illustrates in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, our earthly life has eternal consequences.

And so, whether we are thinking about the judgement at the moment of our own death or the judgement at the final return of Christ, the message remains the same: we must be ready.  Like the virgins, we must have our lamps fully oiled up.

Christian Life

I have been teaching at the seminary for the last 18 years, and one thing I am famous, or rather infamous, for is giving pop quizzes. Why? Because these test not only what my students know, but also how prepared they are.  As a student myself, I learned, sometimes the hard way, that the best way to prepare for a test is to study regularly and be prepared at all times.

The same is true of our Christian lives. We cannot wait until the moment of death to start preparing to meet the Lord. We must live each day with our lamps burning.

But what does it mean to have our lamps burning when the Lord comes?

In Scripture, light is frequently associated with good works. Jesus tells his disciples: "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father" (Mt. 5:16). And in the parable of the Last Judgment, the King explains: "For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me" (Mt. 25:35).

Our readiness to meet the Lord is demonstrated by the way we live, especially by the way we love and serve others. Of course, we must also have faith, as demonstrated by the virgins' coming out to meet the bridegroom.

But more than simply knowing about the Lord is needed. When the five foolish virgins eventually arrive, they recognize him and address him as Lord. But the bridegroom replies: "Amen, I say to you, I do not know you." It is not enough simply to know who Jesus is; we must live in a relationship with him.

St. Augustine makes an interesting observation about today's Gospel. Did you notice that all ten were virgins? All ten had something good in common. Yet only five were wise. What distinguished them was that the wise ones had brought oil for their lamps. In other words, outward virtue alone was not enough; something more was needed.  Simply avoiding evil is not enough; we must also actively do good. Christianity is about growing in holiness, loving God and loving our neighbor.

But where do we get the oil that keeps our lamps burning and sustains us in doing good? The answer is that the oil comes from God himself. It is his grace, his divine life, which we receive in many ways, but primarily through the sacraments.

·        Baptism takes away original sin and makes us children of God.

·        Confirmation strengthens us with the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

·        The Eucharist is the memorial of Christ's sacrifice and the food that sustains us.

·        Matrimony gives spouses grace to live their vocation faithfully.

·        Holy Orders gives the ordained the grace to exercise their sacred ministry.

·        Penance forgives sins and restores us to God's friendship.

·        Anointing of the Sick strengthens the sick and infirm.

The sacraments are God's gifts for our earthly pilgrimage. We need them while we are still on this side of heaven because they provide the grace we need for the journey. Once we reach heaven, we will no longer need signs of God's presence because we will be in his presence.

Conclusion

A saying attributed to Benjamin Franklin puts it rather bluntly: "In this world, nothing is certain except death and taxes."

With all due respect to Franklin, I want to add a few more things that are certain for us Christians: yes, taxes, but also the Four Last Things: death, judgment, heaven and hell.

We do not know when death will come, and we shall stand before God in judgment, or when Christ will return in glory. But one thing is absolutely certain: each one of us will eventually have to encounter God and be assigned an eternal abode.

Let us therefore not wait until the last minute to prepare. Let us keep our lamps burning, nourished by God's grace, so that whenever the Bridegroom comes, we may be ready to enter with him into the eternal wedding feast.

Homily All Saints: We are all called to be saints!

 Homily for All Saints 2026

Introduction

I remember a story my high school seminary rector, Fr. Denis, once told on All Saints' Day. He was a young priest and had just completed graduate studies at a prominent university in New York. As he was preparing to return home to Uganda, an elderly nun congratulated him, but then added:

"Father, although you have now acquired a prestigious academic title, there is still one more title you need to get."

"Which one?" the young Fr. Denis asked. "Monsignor?" "No," the nun replied.

"Bishop? Archbishop?" "No."

"Well, it must be Pope!" the increasingly anxious young priest suggested.

"No, Father," sister said. "The title you still need to add to your name is Saint. Saint Denis!"

How right Sister was! Of all the titles we might acquire in life, the one title that every Christian should aspire to, is that of Saint!

That is what we celebrate today, on the Solemnity of All Saints. Since the earliest centuries, Christians have commemorated the martyrs who gave their lives for Christ. Eventually, the Church established this feast to honor all the saints.

Today, I would like to reflect on three questions about this universal call to sainthood: Who are the saints? How do we become saints? And when do we become saints?

Who are the saints?

First, who is a saint?  Sometimes when we think of saints, we think only of extraordinary people: Saint Peter, Saint Augustine, Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Teresa of Calcutta, those we commemorate in the liturgical calendar. But the saints we celebrate today are not limited to those officially canonized by the Church.

Our first reading, from the Book of Revelation, describes a vision of heaven in which Saint John sees "a great multitude, which no one could count, from every nation, race, people, and tongue." They stand before the throne of God and before the Lamb, wearing white robes and holding palm branches in their hands.

Among them are apostles and martyrs, bishops and priests, but also ordinary men and women who remained faithful to God in their daily lives. Perhaps some are people we ourselves have known: parents, grandparents, relatives, teachers, or friends. They may never have had a statue erected in their honor, but they are saints nonetheless, because they now share fully in the life of God.

What makes them saints is not their own perfection, but the grace of Jesus Christ. As we heard in the Book of Revelation, they have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb. They are now with God, not because they never sinned, but because they allowed his grace to make them like God.

How do we become saints?

That brings us to our second question: How do we become saints?

We begin that journey at baptism. Through baptism, we are cleansed of sin, made children of God, and given a share in God's own life. But baptism is only the beginning. We must then live according to the life we have received. 

And how do we do that?  In the Old Testament, God gave his people the Ten Commandments to guide their relationship with him and with one another. These commandments remain essential for the Christian life. But in today's Gospel, Jesus gives us another teaching to guide our journey to sainthood: the Beatitudes.

While many of the Ten Commandments tell us what evil we must avoid, the Beatitudes describe the kind of people we are called to become.

·        "Blessed are the poor in spirit." Thus we recognize our dependence on God rather than on our own achievements.

·        "Blessed are the merciful." We forgive those who offend us and care for those who suffer.

·        "Blessed are the clean of heart." We seek sincerity and integrity in our lives.

·        "Blessed are the peacemakers." We seek reconciliation rather than revenge.

Notice that Jesus does not say, "Blessed are the famous, the powerful, the wealthy, or the successful." Jesus gives us a very different measure of what is needed to be counted among the blessed, among the saints of God.

Living the Beatitudes is not easy. Being merciful when offended, making peace when others want to fight, or remaining humble when we want praise requires effort. But God's grace sustains us through prayer and the sacraments. The saints too struggled with weaknesses and failures. What distinguished them was their willingness to keep turning back to God. And that same grace is available to us.

When do we become saints?

Now that we have seen who the saints are, those who share in God's holiness, and how to become saints, by cooperating with God's grace in living the Beatitudes, one final question we need to address is, when do we become saints?

Saint Paul, in several of his letters, addresses the Christians as the "holy ones" or "saints," because they had already been consecrated to God through baptism.

And Saint John makes the same point in today's second reading, saying,  "Beloved, we are God's children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed."

Notice those two words: "are" and "now." We are God's children already, not merely at some future time. In one sense, we are saints already, because we belong to God. But we are also saints in the making, because our holiness has not yet reached its fulfillment.

Saint John continues: "We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."  Our holiness has already begun, but it has not yet reached its completion. We already share in God's life through baptism and grace, but we hope one day to share fully in that life in heaven..

And here I would like to make an important distinction.  Sometimes, when a loved one dies, we are quick to declare that they are already in heaven. You will hear at funerals: "We know that our mother is now in heaven, looking down upon us."

Of course, such words come from love, grief, and our Christian hope in eternal life. But there is a difference between hoping that someone is in heaven and knowing with certainty that they are there.

This October marked five years since my own mother passed away. I knew her faith, her goodness, her sacrifices, and her efforts to live a holy life. I certainly hope and pray that she is now enjoying the presence of God. But I still pray for her, especially when I celebrate Mass.  So when should I stop praying for her?

A priest recently answered that question in a striking way. He said: "We stop praying for our loved ones when we know for certain that they are in heaven—either because the Church has canonized them, or because we ourselves have reached heaven and found them there!"

Until then, we commend them to God's mercy, praying that they may enjoy the fullness of eternal life.  That is why tomorrow, on All Souls' Day, the Church prays for all the faithful departed, that they too may join the saints in heaven.

Conclusion

As we celebrate this Eucharist and join our voices with the angels and saints in singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts,” let us remember the ultimate purpose of our lives: to become saints and to help others become saints too.

Father Denis would eventually acquire several more titles: Monsignor, Bishop, and Archbishop. But I pray that he has also received the title that the nun reminded him was the most important of all: Saint!

And may that also be our daily hope and goal.

Homily Ordinary 29A: Citizenship of two worlds

 Homily for 29^th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year A 2026

Introduction

“Have you stopped beating your wife?” That is a classic no-win question.

·        If you answer “Yes,” you admit that you used to beat your wife.

·        If you answer “No,” you appear to admit that you are still doing it!

It is the kind of question designed to trap someone, whatever the answer.

In today's Gospel, the Pharisees and the Herodians try to do exactly that to Jesus.

Scripture and Theology

They ask him: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”  It is a loaded question.

·        If Jesus says, “Yes, pay the tax,” the Pharisees can accuse him of collaborating with the Roman occupiers and betraying God's people.

·        But if he says, “No, do not pay the tax,” the Herodians, who support the Roman authorities, can accuse him of rebellion and insurgency.

Either answer could get him into trouble.

But Jesus refuses to be trapped. He asks them to show him the coin used to pay the tax. Then he asks whose image and inscription are on it. They answer, “Caesar's.”  And Jesus gives his famous reply: “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”  To Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.

Jesus does more than escape a trap. He teaches us something fundamental about the relationship between our faith and our responsibilities in society.

Some people behave as though we must choose between God and the world, between the Church and the state, between the cathedral and the town hall. Others would like the Church to take over the functions of government. Of course, none of you fine people of this wonderful parish would ever think that way!

But Jesus does not ask us to choose one at the expense of the other. He tells us to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God.

Of course, there is an important qualification: everything ultimately belongs to God. Even Caesar's authority exists within God's providence and is subject to God's moral law. Civil authority has its legitimate responsibilities, but it is not absolute.

Think of two boxes, one inside the other. The smaller represents legitimate civil authority; the larger represents everything that belongs to God. Civil government has its proper sphere, but it remains subject to God's authority.

The first reading gives us a striking example. God speaks through the prophet Isaiah about Cyrus, a pagan king, whom God calls his anointed instrument. Cyrus does not even know the Lord, yet God can use him to accomplish his purposes. This reminds us that God's providence can work even through political authorities who do not share our faith, while all authority remains subject to God's moral law.

So how should we, as Christians, as Catholics, live as citizens of both the earthly city of Caesar, and of the Kingdom of God?

Christian Life

Let us reflect on three responsibilities in our engagement with public life: rejecting dirty politics, participating responsibly in partisan politics, and upholding the moral principles that should guide our society.

First, we must reject dirty politics.  When Jesus tells us to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, he certainly does not condone dirty politics.  Politics becomes dirty when we abandon truth, fairness, charity, and civility in pursuit of victory. It happens when we spread falsehoods, attack people's character, or treat those who disagree with us as enemies rather than fellow human beings.

As Christians, we must remember that our political opponents are made in the image of God. We may condemn their actions or ideas without denying their dignity.  That is why I personally try to never call anybody evil, even though, sometimes, I have to admit, the temptation is very strong! I might call what they do, or their ideas, evil, but never the person, who is still a child of God.

Our goal should be to seek what is true and good, persuade others when we can, and work for the common good. We cannot claim to serve God while using methods that contradict the Gospel.

Second, lay Catholics should participate responsibly in partisan politics.

Partisan politics involves supporting a political party, candidate, or platform because we sincerely believe it offers the best way to govern society. For lay Catholics, this can be a legitimate and even noble vocation, one way to give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar.

Lay Catholics should not withdraw from public life, which is their sphere of apostolate. We should pay our taxes, vote, attend town civic meetings, serve our communities, and, when called to do so, stand for public office. We should bring our Catholic faith and a well-formed conscience into these responsibilities.

Of course, no political party or platform perfectly represents the whole of Catholic teaching. Catholics may legitimately disagree about particular policies and the best ways to address complex problems.  We must never knowingly endorse evil simply because it is part of our preferred party's platform. Rather, we must examine our politics in the light of the Gospel and the demands of a well-formed conscience.

Is there a role for the Church’s ordained ministers in partisan politics? Not in the sense of endorsing political parties or candidates on behalf of the Church.  The Church, as a Church, does not endorse political parties or candidates. Bishops, priests, and deacons have a particular responsibility to teach the faith and must be careful not to identify the Gospel with a particular political platform.

Archbishop Shelton Fabre of Louisville, whom many of you will remember from his years here in New Orleans, speaking on behalf of the conference of bishops, recently expressed this principle beautifully. He said that we must “put faith before politics.”

He reminds us that, whether we are voting or making everyday decisions, our first concern should be to become the best disciples of Jesus Christ that we can be. Our participation in public life should advance the common good and uphold the human dignity of every person.  In other words, our political loyalties must serve our Christian faith, not the other way around.

Third, all Catholics, lay or clergy, have a responsibility to uphold the moral principles that should guide public life.

The Church must speak about the dignity of every human person, the protection of human life from conception to natural death, the care of the poor and vulnerable, the rights of immigrants and refugees, the treatment of prisoners, the responsibilities of public officials, and the pursuit of peace and justice.

These are not merely party-political issues. They are moral questions that affect human dignity and the common good.

And in speaking on these matters, the Church does not impose the Gospel on society. Rather, it proposes the values of the Gospel, explains why they matter, and invites people of every faith and none to help build a more humane society.

Conclusion

There is a beautiful prayer in the Missal during Advent in which we ask the Lord to teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and to hold firm to the things of heaven.

That prayer captures our situation as Christians. We are citizens of this earthly world, with real rights and responsibilities, but our ultimate citizenship is in heaven. 

We cannot neglect our earthly responsibilities, because this is the world God has entrusted to us. Nor can we become so absorbed in earthly affairs that we forget our eternal destiny.

So let us give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God. Let us participate responsibly in civic life, put our faith before our politics, and never allow partisan loyalties to replace our allegiance to Christ.

As we now celebrate the Eucharist, we come together not as members of different political persuasions, but as members of the one Body of Christ, nourished by the same Lord and called to recognize his image in every human person.

May we work faithfully for the good of this world while keeping our eyes fixed on the Kingdom of God, where we hope to live with him forever.

Homilia Ordinario 26A: Sí, con palabras y con obras

 Homily for 26^th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year A 2026

Introducción

Hace algunos años, vi una frase pintada en la parte trasera de un autobús en Uganda. Decía simplemente: “Ninguna situación es permanente.”

Esa frase, “ninguna situación es permanente”, volvió a mi mente mientras meditaba las lecturas de hoy, en las que escuchamos hablar de dos hijos, y los dos cambian, aunque en direcciones opuestas.

Escritura y teología

Como escuchamos en el Evangelio, Jesús nos cuenta la parábola de dos hijos. Su padre les pide a los dos que vayan a trabajar a la viña.

·        El primero dice: “No, no voy.” Pero después cambia de parecer y va.

·        El segundo dice: “Sí, señor.” Pero también cambia de parecer y nunca va.

Y Jesús pregunta: “¿Cuál de los dos hizo la voluntad de su padre?”

La respuesta obvia es “el primero.”  Pero detengámonos un momento y pensemos en algo interesante de esta parábola. La verdad es que ninguno de los dos hijos es perfecto. Uno se equivoca con sus palabras; el otro se equivoca con sus acciones. Y quizás por eso este Evangelio tiene algo que decirnos a todos.

El primer hijo, que dijo “No” pero después cambió de parecer e hizo lo que su padre le había pedido, representa a los pecadores: los publicanos y las prostitutas. Ellos también habían dicho “No” a Dios cuando se negaron a creer en sus promesas, cuando se negaron a adorarlo y, sobre todo, cuando se negaron a seguir sus mandamientos y escogieron vivir en el pecado.

Pero después de escuchar la predicación de Juan el Bautista y de Jesús, cambiaron sus caminos y se volvieron hacia el Señor. A lo largo de los Evangelios escuchamos hablar de publicanos como Mateo y Zaqueo, y también de mujeres pecadoras, que como este hijo se volvieron hacia el Señor y dejaron atrás su antigua vida de pecado.  Porque ninguna situación es permanente, ni siquiera la situación del pecado.

El segundo hijo, el que dijo “Sí” a su padre pero no hizo nada, representa a los líderes religiosos de aquel tiempo. Los sumos sacerdotes y los ancianos se consideraban justos porque creían en las promesas de Dios, lo adoraban y se consideraban fieles a la Ley.  Pero se habían vuelto complacientes.

Cuando llegó Jesús, en lugar de reconocer en él el cumplimiento de las promesas de Dios, lo rechazaron. En vez de seguir diciendo “Sí” al Dios en quien habían creído, al Dios que adoraban y obedecían, dijeron “No” al Hijo de Dios, que había predicado: “Conviértanse y crean en el Evangelio.”

Y no solamente rechazaron a Jesús; también rechazaron la posibilidad de que los pecadores pudieran cambiar y convertir su anterior “No” en un “Sí”.

Siglos antes, en tiempos del profeta Ezequiel, el pueblo se había quejado de que los caminos del Señor eran injustos.  ¿Injustos en qué sentido?

Pensaban que era injusto que una persona que había vivido mal pudiera apartarse de su maldad y recibir la vida, mientras que una persona que había vivido justamente pudiera apartarse de la virtud y comenzar a hacer el mal.

Pero Ezequiel les dice que precisamente así es la justicia de Dios. La persona que se aparta del pecado y hace lo que es bueno vivirá; y la persona que se aparta de la justicia y escoge el mal tendrá que afrontar las consecuencias de esa decisión.  Dios toma en serio la dirección que escogemos para seguir.

Vida cristiana

Este mensaje es tan importante para nosotros hoy como lo fue para la gente del tiempo de Ezequiel y del tiempo de Jesús.  También nosotros debemos creer que es posible cambiar. Ninguna situación es permanente.

Hay demasiadas personas hoy que piensan que Dios jamás podría perdonarles sus pecados.  ¿Cuántas veces escucho a alguien decirme: “Padre, lo que hice fue demasiado grave: un aborto, una vida sexual desordenada, un acto de racismo o una adicción, Dios nunca podrá perdonarme”?

Y se dan por vencidos. No creen en Jesús, que nos enseña que Dios es misericordioso y nos invita a ser como el primer hijo, que cambia su “No” por un “Sí”.  Tenemos que creer que es posible pasar del mal al bien, del pecado a la virtud, del camino equivocado al camino correcto.

Y cada uno de nosotros debería preguntarse:

1.    ¿Desespero de mí mismo, o creo que puedo cambiar?

2.    ¿Me doy por vencido con los demás, o creo que la gracia de Dios puede cambiarlos?

3.    Y finalmente, ¿estoy tomando medidas concretas para cambiar mi propia vida y para ayudar a otros a acercarse al Señor?

Pero hay otro lado del Evangelio.  Como el segundo hijo, también nosotros podemos caer fácilmente en la complacencia, pensando que nuestro “Sí” original al Señor nos llevará automáticamente hasta el cielo.

Nuestro “Sí” en el Bautismo, en la Confirmación, en el Matrimonio y en otros momentos importantes fue solamente el comienzo de nuestro compromiso.  Tenemos que seguir diciendo: “Sí, Señor. Sí, Señor. Sí, Señor,” todos los días de nuestra vida.  Tenemos que decir este “Sí” siguiendo creyendo en su enseñanza, continuando a adorarlo y viviendo de acuerdo con sus mandamientos.  Nuestro “Sí” a Dios tiene que ser con palabras y con obras.

Recuerdo una historia que escuché contar al padrino de una boda hace algunos años. Les aconsejaba a los recién casados que compararan su amor el uno por el otro con un millón de dólares.

Pero en lugar de darse un solo cheque de un millón de dólares, les aconsejó ir al banco, conseguir billetes de un dólar y dárselos el uno al otro, uno por uno, cada día, uno por uno, cada día.  De esa manera estarían diciendo: “Sí, te amo”, no solamente una vez, sino todos los días de su vida.

Nuestro amor por Dios es muy parecido. Nuestro “Sí” a Dios no se demuestra con un gran “Sí” una sola vez en la vida, sino con todos los pequeños “Sí” que le damos cada día.

Conclusión

A diferencia del dicho de que el leopardo no puede cambiar sus manchas, aquella frase pintada en el autobús de Uganda era sencilla y verdadera: “Ninguna situación es permanente.”

·        Esto puede ser una palabra de esperanza para cada uno de nosotros que ha pecado: Tu pasado no tiene que determinar tu futuro.

·        Y también puede ser una advertencia para cada uno de nosotros que se considera justo: Tu fidelidad del pasado no te dispensa de obedecer hoy.

Sí, a veces somos como el primer hijo por causa de nuestro pecado. A veces somos como el segundo hijo por causa de nuestra complacencia.

Pero Jesús no contó esta parábola simplemente para que pudiéramos identificar al hijo equivocado. La contó para que pudiéramos reconocernos a nosotros mismos.

Y Dios Padre nos llama a ser como el tercer Hijo, su Hijo, Jesucristo, cuyo “Sí” es fiel tanto en palabras como en obras.  Jesús no solamente dijo “Sí” a su Padre. Vivió ese “Sí” hasta la Cruz.

Y quizás, después de celebrar este sacrificio de la reconciliación, esa sea la oración que debemos llevarnos hoy: Señor, ayúdame a hacer realidad mi “Sí” a ti.  No solamente con mis labios y mis intenciones, sino también con mis decisiones, mis relaciones, mi trabajo, mi oración, mi perdón y mi vida diaria.  Porque ninguna situación es permanente.

Por la gracia de Dios, el “No” de ayer puede convertirse en el “Sí” de hoy, especialmente en el sacramento de la reconciliación. Y si permanecemos fieles, nuestros “Sí” imperfectos de esta vida se convertirán un día en nuestro “Sí” definitivo en la eternidad.

Homily Ordinary 26A: Yes in both Word and Action

 Homily for 26^th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year A 2026

Introduction

Years ago, I saw a saying painted on the back of a bus in Uganda. It said simply: “No condition is permanent.”

That saying, “no condition is permanent,” came back to me as I prayed over today's readings, about two sons, both of whom change—but in opposite directions.

Scripture and Theology

As we heard in the Gospel, their father asks both sons to go and work in the vineyard.

·        The first says, “No, I will not.” But later he changes his mind and goes.

·        The second says, “Yes, sir.” But he too changes his mind and never goes.

And Jesus asks, “Which of the two did his father's will?”

The obvious answer is the first one.  But let us step back for a moment and reflect on something interesting about this parable. The truth is that neither son is perfect. One is wrong in his words; the other is wrong in his actions. And perhaps that is why this Gospel has something to say to all of us.

The first son, who said “No” but later changed his mind and did what he was asked, represents sinners, the tax collectors and prostitutes. They too had said “No” to God when they refused to believe in his promises, when they refused to worship him, and most of all when they refused to follow his commandments and instead chose to live in sin.

But now, after hearing John the Baptist and Jesus preach, they had turned from their evil ways and towards the Lord. Throughout the Gospels we hear of tax collectors like Matthew and Zacchaeus, and of sinful women too, who like this son turned to the Lord and left behind their old lives of sin.  For no condition is permanent—not even the condition of sin.

The second son, the one who said “Yes” to the father but did nothing about it, represents the religious leaders of the time. The chief priests and elders considered themselves righteous because they believed in God's promises, worshipped him, and considered themselves faithful to the Law.  But they had become complacent in their righteousness.

When Jesus came, instead of recognizing in him the fulfillment of God's promises, they rejected him. Instead of continuing to say “Yes” to the God whom they had believed in, worshipped, and obeyed, they said “No” to God's Son, who had preached: “Repent, and believe in the Gospel.” 

Moreover, not only did they reject Jesus; they also rejected the possibility that sinners could change and turn their previous “No” into a “Yes.”

Centuries earlier, during the time of the Prophet Ezekiel, the people had complained that the Lord's ways were unfair.  Unfair how, you might ask?  They thought it was unfair that a person who had lived badly could turn from his wickedness and be given life, while a person who had lived righteously could turn away from virtue and commit evil.

But Ezekiel tells them that this is precisely the justice of God. The person who turns away from sin and does what is right will live; the person who turns away from righteousness and chooses evil will bear the consequences of that choice.  God takes seriously the direction in which we choose to change, we choose to live.

Christian Life

This message is just as relevant for us today as it was for the people of Ezekiel's time and those of Jesus' time.  We too must hold out the hope that change is possible.  No condition is permanent.

There are far too many people today who think that God could never forgive their sin.  How often do I hear people say, “Father, what I did was too terrible—an abortion or a promiscuous past, an act of racism or an addiction—there is no way God can forgive that”? And they give up. They don't believe Jesus, who tells us that God is merciful and challenges us to be like the first son, who changes his “No” to a “Yes.”

We must believe that change from evil to good, from sin to virtue, from the wrong path to the right path is possible.  And each of us needs to ask ourselves:

1.    Do I despair of myself or do I believe that I can change?

2.    Do I give up on others or do I believe that God's grace can change them?

3.    And finally, am I actually taking concrete steps to bring about change in my own life and to help others turn their lives toward the Lord?

But there is another side to the Gospel passage. Like the second son, we can just as easily fall into the complacency of thinking that our original “Yes” to the Lord will carry us all the way to heaven.

Our “Yes” at Baptism, Confirmation, Matrimony, and other occasions was only the beginning of our commitment.  We must continue saying, “Yes, Lord. Yes, Lord. Yes, Lord,” every day of our lives.  We must say this “Yes” by continuing to believe in his teaching, by continuing to worship him, and by continuing to live according to his commandments. Our “Yes” to God must be both in word and action.

I recall a story I heard told by the best man at a wedding a few years ago. He advised the newly married couple to compare their love for each other to one million dollars.

But rather than give it to each other in one big check of one million dollars, he advised them to go to the bank and get one-dollar bills and give them out to each other one day at a time.  In this way, they would be saying, “Yes, I love you,” not just once, but every day of their lives.

Our love for God is much the same. Our “Yes” to God is not proved by one great “Yes” once in a lifetime, but by all the little “Yeses” we give him every day.

Conclusion

Unlike the saying about leopards not being able to change their spots, that saying on that Ugandan bus was simple and true: “No condition is permanent.”

·        That can be a word of hope for each of us who has sinned: Your past does not have to determine your future.

·        And it can also be a warning to each of us who considers himself righteous: Your past faithfulness does not excuse you from today's obedience.

Yes, sometimes we are the first son because of our sin. Sometimes we are the second son because of our complacency.

But Jesus did not tell this parable merely so that we could identify the bad son. He tells it so that we can recognize ourselves.  And God the Father calls us to become like the third Son, his Son, Jesus Christ, whose “Yes” is faithful in both word and action.  Jesus not only said “Yes” to his Father. He lived that “Yes” all the way to the Cross.

And perhaps, as we leave this Eucharistic sacrifice of our salvation, that is the prayer we should take home today: Lord, help me to make my “Yes” to you real.  Not only with my lips and intentions, but also in my choices, my relationships, my work, my prayer, my forgiveness, and my daily life.  Because no condition is permanent.

By the grace of God, the “No” of yesterday can become the “Yes” of today, especially through the sacrament of penance and reconciliation.  And if we remain faithful, our imperfect “Yeses” of this life will one day become our definitive “Yes” in eternity.

Homily Ordinary 25A: The generous ways of the Lord

 Homily for 25^th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year A 2026

Introduction

As a student, I did not like group assignments!  Why not?

Because a few of us would do most of the work, while others would do very little, and yet at the end of the project, everybody received the same grade.  “Why should I share my A, with them?” I would ask.

So, I can understand the feelings of the workers in today's Gospel. Some of them worked the whole day or most of the day in the hot sun. Others arrived only at the last hour. And yet, when the time came to be paid, they all received the same daily wage.  You can almost hear the first workers complaining: “That's not fair!”

And, to be honest, I think most of us would have some sympathy for them.

Scripture and Theology

But then we hear the Lord say through the prophet Isaiah in our first reading: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.”  Today’s gospel passage is an example of this great chasm between our ways and the ways of the Lord.

In the parable, the Master keeps his end of the agreement.  He agreed to pay a day’s wage to each of the workers, let’s say $100; and $100 is what he pays them at the end of the day.  That is justice: keeping one's word, treating each person as they deserve.  We must therefore say that God is just.

But God often does not treat us merely in the ways we deserve; he goes beyond justice and is generous to us.  That is why Jesus has the Master pay the late arrivals a day’s wage, for less than a day’s work.  He does that probably because as heads of families they too needed the money to feed their families, who prayed: “Give us this day our daily bread.” Thus God is both just and generous.

If God's ways combine justice with mercy, fairness with generosity, human beings tend to think only in terms of strict justice that leads to feelings of envy. The early arrivals in the parable, for example, think that they are being treated unjustly, because they are receiving the same wage as the late arrivals.  In fact they wonder why the Master is making the late arrivals equal to them.

And yet they are wrong in claiming an injustice, since in truth the Master was just to them, giving them what he owed them.  Because they have a limited understanding of what justice is, they think that life is a zero-sum game.  If others get more than they deserve, it means they are receiving less.  That is why the Master asks them: “Are you envious because I am generous?"

This parable was originally addressed to people like the Pharisees.  Like I felt outrage at the lazy kids in the group getting a good grade, the Pharisees also felt that it was unfair for Jesus to invite into God’s Kingdom sinners such as tax collectors and prostitutes, as well as the unclean and unworthy foreigners, non-Jews who did not even know God’s law, much less keep it.  With this parable Jesus teaches the Pharisees that God’s love is much more generous that their human minds could ever imagine.  God has promised eternal life to those who do his will.  All those who respond to his invitation and do his will, whether throughout their lives or only at the last hour, shall receive eternal life. 

So Jesus is teaching us something about God's generosity.  God does not treat us merely according to what we deserve.  If God gave us only what we deserved, none of us would have much to boast about. Instead, God gives us something greater.

·        He gives us mercy.

·        He gives us forgiveness.

·        He gives us grace.

·        He gives us the opportunity to begin again.

And he gives us eternal life—not because we can somehow earn it as a wage, but because he loves us and gives it to us as a gift.

And let us remember: eternal life is eternal. If God gives eternal life to someone who comes to him at the last hour, that does not take anything away from those who have served him faithfully all their lives. God's generosity to another person does not diminish his generosity toward us.

Christian Life

Unfortunately, our ways today are not God’s ways.

·        Our ways tend to measure a person's worth by what he or she can contribute, while the Gospel teaches us to recognize the dignity of every human person.

·        Our ways tend toward comparison with each other rather than gratitude for what God gives us all.

·        Our ways tend toward “everybody must pull themselves up by their own bootstraps,” rather than the teaching of Jesus that we must lift one another up.

Isaiah was correct that our ways are not God’s ways, our thoughts not God’s thoughts.

·        Is it any wonder, then, that our society sometimes treats the unborn and elderly badly, because they don’t seem to offer much to society?

·        Is it any wonder, then, that our society sometimes treats immigrants and refugees badly, because they are regarded as outsiders who do not yet belong?

·        Is it any wonder then, that our society treats the poor and homeless, the mentally impaired and prisoners, even the sick, because they have not made as much a contribution as we have?

These might be our ways; but they are not the Lord's ways.  We must go beyond mere justice that focuses only on what people deserve and learn the Lord's generous ways, in which we give people what they need, without envy.

And yet, from the very beginning of the Church, Christians have tried to live by the Lord’s ways, rather than by the ways of the world.  They have been known for our concern for the weakest members of society.  Through hospitals, orphanages and schools, they have taken care of the sick and suffering, children and the elderly, not because those they cared for were Christians, but because we who serve them are Christians; not because those whey served deserved it, but because they needed it.  Christians have tried and continue to do so today, to temper justice with mercy, fairness with generosity like the Lord who has been merciful and generous to us.

Conclusion

In a few moments we shall approach the altar of the Lord, to offer his sacrifice and to receive his Body and Blood.  These are gifts which we have not earned, but have received because of the Lord’s generosity.

I hope that when we meet the Lord, he will not have to ask us, “Are you envious because I am generous?” But rather, that he will be able to say to us: “Well done, good and faithful servant, come and share in your Master’s joy.”  And he will say that because we learned, not to be envious of others, but to be as generous to others as he has been to us.