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.