Una fe firme nos convierte en piedras

 Homilía: 21o Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A

Hermanos, las lecturas de hoy nos orientan hacia el establecimiento del papado y hacia la autoridad conferida a la Iglesia para gobernar al pueblo de Dios y emitir juicios en nombre de Dios. La lectura del libro de Isaías nos proporciona el contexto necesario para comprender cómo Jesús transmite a Pedro la autoridad del reino; pues, en dicho pasaje, la autoridad se retiraba a una persona y se otorgaba a otra basándose únicamente en la fidelidad del individuo para actuar como juez justo y buen administrador de los recursos del reino. Recordemos, no obstante, que era Dios quien realizaba este cambio, y no el rey terrenal. Más aún, Dios–por medio del profeta Isaías–promete que será Él mismo quien le confiera una autoridad firme gracias a su fidelidad. Es importante que tengamos presente este último punto al reflexionar sobre cómo Cristo instituyó el papado para su Iglesia.

Es importante porque, a primera vista, parece un tanto descabellado que Dios confiara su autoridad en la tierra a un hombre con graves defectos. Sabemos que Pedro era impetuoso e impulsivo; sabemos que era valiente, pero no siempre prudente. Hace apenas unas semanas recordábamos cómo, obedeciendo la orden de Jesús–quien permanecía milagrosamente de pie sobre la superficie del agua–Pedro salió valientemente de la barca y caminó sobre las aguas, pero pronto comenzó a hundirse al sentir miedo del mar agitado que lo rodeaba. Recordamos cómo Jesús lo reprendió diciéndole: ”Hombre de poca fe, ¿por qué dudaste?” Este es el mismo Pedro a quien Jesús confía la autoridad de su reino en el Evangelio de hoy. Conociendo lo que sabemos sobre Pedro, podemos–al menos en apariencia–cuestionar si esta fue la mejor decisión de Jesús.

Si examinamos la historia de los papas a lo largo de los siglos, no hará sino profundizar nuestro cuestionamiento sobre la decisión de Jesús de dejar la autoridad de la Iglesia en manos de hombres imperfectos. En esa historia encontramos figuras como el papa Esteban sexto, quien, movido por unos celos y un afán de venganza tan intensos hacia su predecesor, el papa Formoso, ordenó exhumar el cadáver de este, vestirlo con sus antiguas ropas papales y someterlo a juicio por todas las faltas que Esteban creía que había cometido. Tras aquella farsa de juicio, hizo mutilar el cuerpo de Formoso y arrojarlo al río Tíber (que atraviesa Roma). Sus acciones provocaron disturbios y agitación en toda la ciudad. ¿O qué decir del papa Alejandro sexto, quien utilizó su poder y autoridad para enriquecer a sus familiares, incluidos sus propios hijos (sí, ha oído bien)? Era conocido por recurrir a sobornos y a una manipulación política inmoral, además de incurrir en otros actos personales indecentes. Por desgracia, existen muchos más ejemplos de papas que actuaron de manera reprobable aún ostentando la plena autoridad de la Iglesia, transmitida originalmente a san Pedro.

Luego estaban aquellos que eran simplemente incompetentes. El papa Clemente séptimo fue un líder célebre por su incompetencia. Durante su pontificado, gestionó mal diversas alianzas políticas, lo que finalmente condujo a la invasión y conquista de Roma. Clemente también fue responsable de no lograr resolver la crisis con Enrique octavo de Inglaterra, la cual llevó a este último a separar la Iglesia de Inglaterra de la Iglesia romana. Cabe señalar que existen muchos otros ejemplos de papas que fueron simplemente incompetentes pero que, por ser sucesores de san Pedro, ejercían la plena autoridad de la Iglesia.

Llegados a este punto, tal vez se pregunten: “¿Acaso el padre intenta convencernos de que no debemos confiar en el Papa?”. Si es así, la respuesta es “¡NO!”. Simplemente trato de señalar que confiar la autoridad sobre la Iglesia–es decir, el sacramento mismo de salvación para todos los pueblos establecido por Dios–a un hombre imperfecto parece, a primera vista, algo descabellado. Lo señalo porque creo que, en el fondo, esa no es la cuestión principal. Más bien, considero que lo que estamos llamados a reconocer–la lección que Dios nos transmite–es que la Iglesia, con el papado, ha logrado sobrevivir a pesar de las numerosas imperfecciones de cada uno de sus papas. [REPEAT]

Los papas, como hemos visto, son personas complejas y con muchas aristas (Pedro no fue la excepción, ¿verdad?). Sin embargo, resulta que si aciertan en una sola cosa, logran sobrevivir. ¿Cuál es esa cosa? La profesión de fe. [REPEAT].

En la lectura del Evangelio, Jesús pregunta a sus discípulos qué dice la gente sobre él: “¿Quién dice la gente que es el Hijo del hombre?” Tras escuchar sus respuestas, les dirige la misma pregunta a ellos para ver si empiezan a comprender quién es él. Entonces, Pedro habla en nombre de todos (o tal vez no de todos, sino simplemente antes que los demás) y proclama su fe: "Tú eres el Mesías, el Hijo de Dios vivo". Jesús, el buen maestro, confirma la respuesta acertada de Pedro y responde con aquella famosa frase: “Y yo te digo a ti que tú eres Pedro y sobre esta piedra edificaré mi Iglesia…” y “te daré las llaves del Reino de los cielos…” Ahora bien, cuando Jesús dice “sobre esta piedra”, ¿se refiere a “Pedro, el hombre” o a “la profesión de fe de Pedro”? La respuesta, a mi parecer, es ambas cosas. Son ambas. Jesús se refiere a ambas.

Es cierto, en efecto, que las personas imperfectas constituyen un cimiento inestable sobre el cual edificar cualquier organización. Sin embargo, esas mismas personas que profesan con confianza (y humildad) su fe en la divinidad de Jesús–y en que Él es quien fue enviado al mundo para redimir a la humanidad–se convierten en piedra firme sobre la que puede edificarse la Iglesia de Dios. Todos aquellos papas imperfectos que mencioné (y los muchos otros que no cité), a pesar de las múltiples formas en que no estuvieron a la altura de la fe, profesaron no obstante esa misma fe y jamás enseñaron nada contrario a ella. Por haber sido fieles al profesar y custodiar la fe, Dios pudo proteger a la Iglesia e impedir que se derrumbara, haciendo efectiva la garantía divina que Él mismo proclamó ante Pedro en Cafarnaún, aquel día trascendental de hace casi dos mil años: “sobre esta piedra edificaré mi Iglesia. Los poderes del infierno no prevalecerán sobre ella”.

Hermanos, todos podemos ser–y estamos llamados a ser–piedras sobre las cuales Cristo edifica su Iglesia. Sin embargo, al igual que Pedro y todos los papas que le sucedieron, no tenemos por qué ser perfectos. ¡De hecho, es mejor si no lo somos! Más bien, en lugar de esforzarnos en exceso por alcanzar la perfección mediante nuestro propio ingenio, deberíamos procurar fortalecer nuestra profesión de fe y, con ello, nuestra confianza en que, si vivimos conforme a ella, el Reino de Dios seguirá surgiendo y creciendo a nuestro alrededor (¡e incluso a pesar de nosotros!).

¿En qué consiste vivir esta profesión–es decir, vivir confiando en el poder de Dios para edificar a través de nosotros? Consiste en adorar a Dios, tanto en la Misa como en la oración diaria; en vivir según sus mandamientos, ¡todos ellos!; en amar a nuestros seres más cercanos–principalmente en nuestras familias y en nuestra comunidad; y en no desesperar jamás ante nuestras propias faltas ni las de quienes nos rodean, sino en confiar en Dios y en su providencia en todo momento. Por último, cuando fallamos en cualquiera de estos aspectos, vivir esta profesión de fe significa volver al Padre con fe para pedir perdón y recibir la fortaleza necesaria para comenzar de nuevo. Esta, hermanos y hermanas, es la piedra sobre la que se edifica la Iglesia; y cada uno de nosotros está llamado–y recibe toda gracia–a hacer firme esta piedra.

Al unir hoy nuestras oraciones por nuestro papa actual, el Papa León, para que su fe se mantenga siempre firme mientras guía a la Iglesia de Dios, renovemos nuestra propia profesión de fe–y nuestro compromiso de vivir conforme a ella–a fin de que la Iglesia de Dios siga creciendo y nosotros continuemos acercándonos a nuestra recompensa eterna en el cielo.

Dado en la parroquia de San Patricio: Kokomo, IN – 23 de agosto, 2026

Strong faith makes us rocks

 Homily: 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

Friends, today’s readings all point us to the establishment of the papacy and to the authority given to the Church to govern God’s people and to make judgments in the name of God.  The reading from the book of Isaiah gives us the context from which we are to understand Jesus’ handing on the authority of the kingdom to Peter.  For in Isaiah, the authority was taken from one and given to another solely based on the individual’s faithfulness to being a just judge and a good steward of the resources of the kingdom.  Remember, though, that it was God who was making this change, not the earthly king.  Still further, God (through Isaiah, the prophet) makes the promise that it is he himself that will make him a sturdy authority because of his faithfulness.  This last point is one that is important for us to remember as we think about Christ establishing the papacy for his Church.

Important because, on the surface, it seems a little bit crazy that God would entrust his authority on earth to a deeply flawed man.  We know Peter to be brash and impulsive; we know him to be someone who is brave, but not always prudent.  Just a couple of weeks ago, we recalled how he bravely stepped out of the boat onto the water at the command of Jesus (who himself was standing miraculously on the surface of the water), but then quickly sank as he became fearful of the stormy seas around him.  We recalled how Jesus admonished him: saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”  This is the same Peter to whom Jesus entrusts the authority of his kingdom in today’s Gospel reading.  Knowing what we know about Peter, we can–on the surface, at least–question whether this was Jesus’ best decision.

Then, when we look at the history of the popes throughout the centuries, our questioning of Jesus’ decision to leave the authority of the Church in the hands of flawed men will only deepen.  There, in the history, we find popes like Pope Stephen the sixth, who was so jealous and vengeful of his predecessor, Pope Formosus, that he had his body dug up from its grave, dressed in his former papal robes, and put on trial for all the wrongs that Pope Stephen thought he had committed.  After this mockery of a trial, he had Formosus’ body mutilated and thrown in the Tiber river (which runs through Rome).  His actions caused riots and unrest throughout Rome.  Or how about Pope Alexander the sixth, who used his power and authority to enrich his family members–even his children (yes, you heard that right).  He was known to deal in bribes and immoral political manipulation, along with other indecent personal acts.  Unfortunately, there are many more examples of popes who behaved badly while still holding the full authority of the Church, first handed on to Saint Peter.

Then there were those who were just incompetent.  Pope Clement the seventh was a famously incompetent leader.  During his papacy, he mismanaged a number of political alliances which led ultimately to Rome being invaded and conquered.  Clement was also responsible for being unable to resolve the crisis with Henry the eighth in England that led him to separate the Church in England from the Roman Church.  Again, there are many other examples of popes who were simply incompetent, but yet who, because they were the successor of Peter, wielded the full authority of the Church.

At this point, you might be thinking to yourselves, is Father trying to convince us that we shouldn’t trust the Pope?  If so, the answer is “NO”!  I am simply trying to point out that entrusting authority over the Church–that is, the very sacrament of salvation for all peoples that God established–to a flawed man seems, on the surface, to be a little bit crazy.  I point this out because I believe that, ultimately, this is not the point.  Rather, I believe that the point we are called to recognize–the lesson that God is imparting to us–is that the Church with the papacy has survived nonetheless in spite of the abundant flaws of each of its popes [REPEAT].

Popes, as we have seen, are messy, complicated people (Peter no exception, right?).  As it turns out, however, if they get one thing right they will survive.  What is that one thing?  It’s the profession of faith [REPEAT].

In the Gospel reading, Jesus inquires among his disciples to learn from them what other people are saying about him.  “Who do they say that I am?”  After they share their answers, he turns the question on them to see whether they are starting to understand who he is.  Here, Peter speaks for everyone (or maybe not for everyone, but just before everyone) and declares his faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”  Jesus, the good teacher, affirms Peter’s correct answer and then responds with that famous phrase: “And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church…” and “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven…”  Now, when Jesus says, “on this rock”, does he mean “Peter, the man,” or does he mean “Peter’s profession of faith?”  The answer, I argue, is both.  It’s both.  Jesus means both.

It’s true, you see, that flawed persons are a shaky foundation on which to build any organization.  The same persons, however, who confidently (and with humility) profess faith in the divinity of Jesus, and that he is the one sent into the world to redeem mankind, become solid rocks on which God’s Church can be built.  All of those flawed popes that I mentioned (and the many others that I didn’t mention), in spite of the multitude of ways that they failed to live up to the faith, nonetheless professed the same faith and never taught anything against it.  Because they were faithful in professing and safeguarding the faith, God was able to protect the Church and keep it from collapsing: realizing the divine guarantee that he professed to Peter in Capernaum on that fateful day nearly two thousand years ago: “upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.”

Friends, we all can be–and we are called to be–rocks on which Christ builds his Church.  Like Peter and all the popes after him, however, we don’t have to be perfect.  Better, in fact, if we aren’t!  Rather, instead of striving too hard for perfection by our own ingenuity, we should strive to bolster our profession of faith–and, thus, our trust that , if we live from this profession, God’s kingdom will continue to emerge and grow around us (and even in spite of us!).

What does living from this profession–that is, living in this trust in God’s power to build through us–look like?  It looks like worshiping God–both at Mass and in daily prayer; it looks like living by his commandments–all of them!; it looks like loving those closest to us–that is, in our families, primarily, and in our community; and it looks like never despairing because of our faults and the faults of those around us, but trusting in God and in his providence at every turn.  Finally, when we fail at doing any one of these things, living from this profession of faith looks like turning back to the Father in faith to seek forgiveness and to receive strength to begin again.  This, my brothers and sisters, is the rock on which the Church is built; and we are each called–and given every grace–to make this rock firm.

As we unite our prayers today for our current pope, Pope Leo, that his faith will remain ever firm as he leads God’s Church, let us renew our own profession of faith–and our commitment to live from it–so that God’s Church may continue to grow, and we will continue to draw closer to our eternal reward in heaven.

Given in Spanish at St. Patrick Parish: Kokomo, IN – August 23rd, 2026

The greatest treasure is worth everything

 Homily: 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

Friends, today in our Gospel reading we conclude the incredibly rich and dense thirteenth chapter from Matthew’s Gospel.  Over these last three Sundays we’ve heard a multitude of parables that our Lord Jesus used to describe the kingdom of heaven that he had come to inaugurate.

We heard the parables of the sower and the seed and the weeds and the wheat, in which he described how the word would (and wouldn’t) be received by the ones with whom it was shared, and how even those who received it would be threatened by the work of the evil one.  We also heard the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast and the dough, in which he described how the kingdom of heaven is something quite unremarkable by human standards–a tiny seed and a little yeast–that nonetheless works invisibly to create an outsized impact on the world: a large bush in which many birds can make their nest and whole large batch of leavened dough.

Today we heard the parables of the treasure in the field and the pearl of great price, in which he described how the kingdom of heaven is truly the most valuable thing one could ever find, and he emphasizes that those who truly seek it, upon finding it, are ready to abandon everything in order to obtain it.  Finally, today we also heard the last parable in this chapter, in which he describes the eschatological nature of the kingdom of heaven (that is, how the kingdom of heaven will be when all things come to an end).  Here he describes the great judgment at the end of time: the gathering of the various fish of the sea and the separating of the “good” and the “bad” fish–the good being those who heard the word and remained faithful to it (or those who never had the opportunity to hear the word, but nonetheless lived virtuous lives) and the bad being those who, having heard the word, either rejected it or were unfaithful to it (or who, never having had the opportunity to hear the word, nonetheless lived lives of debauchery and sin).

I don’t know about you, but when I put that all together, I can’t believe that it is all contained in just one chapter of the Gospel!  There’s so much there to unpack; but yet, there’s more!  Remember how his disciples asked him about why he taught in parables and the explanation that Jesus gave?  He said, it seems, that he taught in parables so that only certain people would understand and believe.  We had to wrestle with the idea that Jesus, who came for the salvation of all, nonetheless taught in a way that might leave some people unable to understand and, thus, unable to receive the salvation that Jesus came to bring.  Although it is possible to interpret his teaching as meaning that his disciples will be those who wrestle with their struggle to understand, and thus become intentional disciples, while those who simply reject his teaching because they couldn’t understand it right away will never become his disciples (and thus make some sense of why he taught in that way), we nonetheless have to wrestle with this idea and what that might mean for our own discipleship.  All this, again, adding to the incredible density of this chapter in Matthew’s Gospel. ///

Okay, with all of this swimming in our minds right now, let’s listen to the last question that Jesus asks his disciples at the end of this: “Do you understand all these things?”  I don’t know about all of you, but my reaction is something along the lines of, “Umm… sure?”  Certainly, at one level, we can answer with the disciples, who answered simply, “Yes”.  On the surface, these parables and Jesus’ teaching about why he teaches in parables are things that we can understand.  But I think that all of us can also see that there’s a depth to these parables that are not so easy to understand, and that would take prayer, study, and meditation to understand more fully.  Here, I think that we can invoke the words of the man who asked Jesus to cure his son.  When Jesus asked him, “Do you believe that I can do this?”, the man replied, “Yes, Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief”.  In our context today, our reply to Jesus’ question, “Do you understand all these things?”, might be, “Yes, Lord, I understand. Help my lack of understanding”.

With that in mind, perhaps we can appreciate King Solomon and his response to God in the dream in which God appeared to him and gave him a “blank check” to ask for whatever he wanted.  In spite of what must have been an incredible temptation to ask for a “long life”, “riches”, or “the life of his enemies”, Solomon understood his calling–which was to govern God’s people rightly–and so asked for “an understanding heart” to judge well how to govern them: justly and prudently.  Seeing how we are called to engage the word of God and to probe its truths, perhaps we too could ask for “understanding hearts” to “help our unbelief” (that is, our “lack of understanding”) and so become even more intentional disciples, who act as good “yeast” in the midst of the “dough” of our community, so that the kingdom of heaven might “leaven the whole batch”. ///

I know that we’re all still hurting from the news that we received last week, and that it is hard, perhaps, to strive to engage these teachings while we’re still processing it all.  Even still, I urge you to give it a try.  Throughout these last weeks, our Lord Jesus names the many ways that the kingdom of heaven will be made known to us and how the Gospel–that is, the Good News of salvation–will be proclaimed and/or experienced among us.  Then he reminds us that, no matter how you might be experiencing it right now, it remains the most valuable treasure you or I could ever find.  Yes, it will be both received and rejected…  Yes, it will be resisted and fought against…  Yes, it will seem small, unimportant, and ineffective…  Yes, at times it will seem like it doesn’t resolve everything (or even anything!)...  Nevertheless, our Lord’s admonition underlying all these parables is this: don’t worry about those things, because they will all be worked out in the end.  Rather, remember that the kingdom of heaven–that is, salvation–is the greatest treasure you or I could ever find and we should give everything… absolutely everything… to possess it.  And once we possess it, we should never let anything tempt us to let it go.

Friends, as we continue through these days of grief, confusion and uncertainty, it is imperative that we hold onto the truths that have been revealed to us and that we strive to remain faithful to those truths.  To do this, we turn to God in prayer: sharing with him all of the emotions that are in our hearts and asking him to comfort us, to clarify our doubts and confusion, and to strengthen us to persevere in faith in this difficult time.  And although it may seem difficult to do right now, we should all be doubling down on our devotional prayer–rosaries, chaplets of Divine Mercy, litanies, etc.–for these can be solid rocks on which to stand when everything else feels shaky.  Finally, once again, we need to support each other: sharing with one another the burdens of our hearts and praying for and with one another.  In doing so, we will strengthen each other in faithfulness and find that our own faith is strengthened. ///

My dear brothers and sisters, the kingdom of heaven is among us and for this we must give thanks.  May our Eucharist today strengthen our resolve to faithfulness, so that this kingdom–the great treasure buried in a field and the pearl of great price for each of us–might continue to grow and blossom in our midst.

Given at Sacred Heart Parish: Remington, IN – July 26th, 2026

Given at St. Augustine Parish: Rensselaer, IN – July 26th, 2026

Seremos salvos gracias a nuestra fidelidad

 Homilia: 16º Domingo en el Tiempo Ordinario – Ciclo A

          Hermanos, seguimos escuchando estas parábolas del capítulo trece del Evangelio de Mateo, y veo la parábola principal de hoy como un signo de gran esperanza en medio del mundo. El signo es este: que el trigo puede crecer (y dar fruto abundantemente) en medio de la cizaña. Esto es en lo que quisiera centrarme hoy.

          La parábola del sembrador y las semillas, que escuchamos la semana pasada, nos recuerda que Dios comprende que habrá personas que, a la larga, podrían perderse. Como recordamos, Jesús dijo: «Parte de la semilla cayó en el camino... parte cayó entre piedras... parte cayó entre espinos...». Todo esto presagia que la semilla del Evangelio no siempre encontrará tierra buena donde echar raíces y dar fruto. Esto es lamentable, por supuesto, y no es lo que Dios desea. Sin embargo, la realidad de nuestra naturaleza pecaminosa hace que esto sea posible (y todos podemos verlo manifestarse en las personas que nos rodean); por ello, Jesús comparte esto con sus discípulos para señalar la verdad.

          Esta semana vemos a Jesús ir un paso más allá y utilizar la parábola de hoy para señalar que el Maligno intentará perjudicar incluso la semilla que cayó en buena tierra, sembrando cizaña entre el buen grano. Sin embargo, el mensaje esperanzador que encontramos en la parábola es que este esfuerzo del Maligno resulta, en última instancia, inútil. El trigo y la cizaña pueden crecer juntos sin afectar la fecundidad del trigo.

          Para nosotros, esto sirve como recordatorio de que seremos salvos gracias a nuestra fidelidad. Según la imagen de la parábola, el trigo solo necesita seguir siendo trigo hasta el momento de la cosecha para poder ser separado de la cizaña y «recogido en el granero de Dios». Lo mismo ocurre con nosotros: si, una vez hechos cristianos, nos esforzamos por permanecer fieles a nuestra vida cristiana, ninguna cantidad de maldad que crezca a nuestro alrededor podrá llevarnos a la perdición.

          Aquí es, por supuesto, donde esta parábola—una metáfora—empieza a perder su fuerza. Todos sabemos que, genéticamente hablando, el trigo no puede dejar de ser trigo para transformarse en cizaña (y así perderse). Sin embargo, los seres humanos podemos apartarnos de nuestra fidelidad cristiana y caer en el mal, hasta el punto de llegar a orientar nuestra vida fundamentalmente hacia el mal. En otras palabras: habiendo sido creados como trigo, podemos convertirnos en mala hierba por nuestras propias decisiones. Pero es aquí donde el resto de la parábola resulta útil.

          Dada nuestra naturaleza caída, es natural pensar—tal como lo hicieron los trabajadores del campo del amo en la parábola—que lo mejor sería arrancar toda la cizaña de una vez para así evitar cualquier amenaza contra nosotros, el trigo. Sin embargo, el sabio amo percibe que arrancar la cizaña podría tener efectos perjudiciales para el trigo, por lo que impide que lo hagan. Él confía en la capacidad del trigo para seguir creciendo en la buena tierra que ha preparado para él y, por ello, está dispuesto a tolerar la presencia de la mala hierba hasta el momento de la cosecha. Aunque parezca increíble, nuestro Padre celestial nos contempla de la misma manera: gracias al bautismo y a la vida de gracia, poseemos toda la fortaleza necesaria para seguir creciendo en la buena tierra de la Iglesia que Él ha preparado para nosotros, aun cuando el mal y las tentaciones hayan sido sembrados profusamente entre nosotros y crezcan a nuestro lado.

          La otra razón metafórica por la que el Amo no arranca la cizaña se relaciona con el mismo motivo que comentamos anteriormente: es cierto que la cizaña no puede dejar de serlo para convertirse en trigo; sin embargo, los seres humanos que han caído en el mal y se han entregado a él—convirtiéndose así, metafóricamente, en cizaña—todavía pueden apartarse del mal, volver a la fidelidad a Dios y a sus mandamientos, y transformarse en trigo. De este modo, al dejar la cizaña junto al trigo, el Amo preserva la posibilidad de que el testimonio del trigo—y la promesa de ser «recogidos en el granero»—lleve a la cizaña a convertirse en trigo antes del tiempo de la cosecha. Quienes no lo hicieran seguirían perdidos, pero habrían tenido todas las oportunidades para lograrlo.

          Dicho todo esto, ¿qué hacemos—aquí, en esta comunidad pastoral—ante las difíciles noticias que hemos recibido hoy, junto con el dolor, la ira, etc., que han provocado? Pues, ante todo, nos mantenemos fieles a la vida que se nos ha dado. En otras palabras, permanecemos fieles a vivir como hijas e hijos adoptivos de Dios mediante el bautismo, siendo fieles a sus mandamientos y al Camino que Jesús nos ha mostrado. La realidad es que el reino de los cielos sigue entre nosotros, actuando (a menudo de forma invisible) a nuestro alrededor. Nuestra fidelidad, incluso en medio de las dificultades y los conflictos, permitirá que siga creciendo y manifestándose entre nosotros.

          Más concretamente, sin embargo: acudimos a Dios en oración. Como escribió San Pablo a los Romanos, en medio de noticias tan difíciles a veces cuesta encontrar palabras para orar; pero el Espíritu Santo que habita en nosotros toma el relevo en esos momentos e «intercede con gemidos que no pueden expresarse con palabras» (ya saben, como cuando uno simplemente deja escapar un gemido desde lo más profundo del ser: ¡¡¡Ufff!!!). Este acto de acudir a Dios en oración—aunque sea solo con esos gemidos que no pueden expresarse con palabras—es una forma poderosa de mantener nuestra fidelidad en tiempos de angustia.

          Sin embargo, los actos verbales de fe también son formas poderosas de resistir las tentaciones de duda y desesperación. Frases repetidas como “Jesús, en ti confío” y “Tu misericordia es para siempre” y “Tu fidelidad se renueva cada mañana” nos ayudan a contrarrestar los pensamientos de duda y desesperación que pueden invadir nuestras mentes y corazones (como “Mira, sabía que me traicionarías” y “Supongo que tu misericordia solo llega hasta cierto punto” y “Esta es una señal de que no nos eres fiel”). Por mucho que duela, a veces, fortalecernos con estos actos verbales de fe nos ayuda a aguantar.

          Por último, debemos apoyarnos y brindarnos seguridad mutua durante este tiempo. Dios es más grande que nosotros, y nuestro pastorado es más grande que cualquier persona en particular. Al apoyarse mutuamente con fidelidad—es decir, consolándose en la tristeza y edificándose unos a otros con palabras llenas de esperanza—se ayudarán a permanecer fieles, y el reino de los cielos seguirá creciendo entre ustedes.

          Hermanos míos, por difícil que resulte creerlo en momentos como este, el Señor está cerca de ustedes. Él los ve y comprende lo que sucede en sus mentes y en sus corazones. Sean fieles, pues, y el Señor los guiará a través de este «valle de lágrimas» hacia el gozo eterno del cielo. ¿Cómo lo sé? La prueba está aquí, en la Eucaristía: en ella nos da su Palabra para fortalecer nuestra mente y nuestro corazón, y en ella se humilla para encontrarse con nosotros aquí, en este altar, y compartir su vida con nosotros.

          Que nuestra Eucaristía de hoy nos fortalezca y nos sane. Y que veamos los frutos de nuestra fidelidad: tanto ahora como en la eternidad.

Dado en la parroquia de San Agustin: Rensselaer, IN – 19 de julio, 2026

By our faithfulness, we will be saved

 Homily: 16^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

          Friends, we continue to hear these parables from the thirteenth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, and I see today’s main parable as a very hopeful sign in the midst of the world.  The sign is this: that the wheat can grow (and grow fruitfully) in the midst of weeds.  This is what I would like to focus on today.

          The parable of the sower and the seeds that we heard last week reminds us that God understands that there would be some people who might ultimately be lost.  As we remember, Jesus said, “Some seed fell on the path… some seed fell amidst rocks… some seed fell among thorns…”  All these predicting that the seed of the Gospel will not always find good soil in which it can take root and bear fruit.  This is unfortunate, of course, and not desired by God.  But the reality of our sinful nature means that it is possible (and all of us can see this playing out in the people around us) and so Jesus shares this with his disciples to point out the truth.

          This week, we hear Jesus take it a step further and use today’s parable to point out that the Evil One will then work to try to disrupt even the seed that feel in good soil by sowing weeds among the good seed.  The hopeful message that we see in the parable, however, is that this effort by the Evil One is ultimately futile.  The wheat and the weeds can grow together without detriment to the fruitfulness of the wheat.

          What this means for us is a reminder that by our faithfulness we will be saved.  In the imagery of the parable, the wheat just needs to keep being wheat until the time of the harvest in order for it to be separated from the weeds and “gathered into God’s barn”.  So too for us: If we, having become Christians, strive to remain faithful to living as Christians, no amount of evil grown around us could cause us to be lost.

          This, of course, is where this parable—a metaphor—starts to lose its power.  We all know that, genetically speaking, wheat can’t stop being wheat and transform into weeds (and so be lost).  Yet we humans can be pulled from our Christian faithfulness and fall into evil, to the point even of becoming fundamentally oriented to evil in our lives.  In other words, having been made wheat, we can become weeds by our own choices.  But this is where the rest of the parable is helpful.

          Given the state of our fallen nature, it is natural to think, like the Master’s field workers thought in the parable, that it would be best to pull up all the weeds at once and so prevent any threat to us, the wheat.  The wise Master sees that pulling up the weeds could have a detrimental side effect on the wheat, however, and so prevents them from doing so.  He trusts in the capacity of the wheat to continue to grow in the good soil that he prepared for it and so is willing to tolerate the presence of the weeds until the time for the harvest.  Believe it or not, our Father in heaven looks at us the same way: by baptism and the life of grace, we possess all of the strength we need to continue to grow in the good soil of the Church which he has prepared for us, even if evil and the temptations to evil have been sown heavily among us and are growing alongside us.

          The other metaphorical reason why the Master doesn’t pull up the weeds touches on the same reason we discussed earlier: yes, weeds can’t stop being weeds and turn themselves into wheat; but human beings who have fallen into evil and have given themselves over to evil—thus, metaphorically speaking, having become weeds—can still turn away from evil and back to faithfulness in God and his commandments and become wheat.  Thus, by leaving the weeds with the wheat, the Master maintains the possibility that the witness of the wheat—and the promise of being “brought into the barn”—would lead the weeds to convert and become wheat before the time of the harvest.  Those who don’t would still be lost, but they would have been given every chance to do so. ///

          That being said, what do we do—here in this pastorate community—in the midst of the difficult news that we have received today, along with the grief, anger, etc., that it has caused?  Well, first and foremost, we remain faithful to the life that has been given to us.  In other words, we remain faithful to living as adopted daughters and sons of God through baptism by our faithfulness to his commandments and to the Way that Jesus has shown us.  The fact of the matter is that the kingdom of heaven is still among us, working (often invisibly) around us.  Our faithfulness, even in the midst of difficulty and strife, will allow it to continue to grow and to manifest itself among us.

          More specifically, however: we turn to God in prayer.  As Saint Paul wrote to the Romans, in the midst of such difficult news it can sometimes be difficult to find words in prayer, but the Holy Spirit within us takes over in those moments and “intercedes with inexpressible groanings” (you know, like you when you just “groan out” from your core: UGHHHH!!!!).  This turning to God in prayer, even with only these inexpressible groanings, is a powerful way to maintain our faithfulness in distressing times.

          Verbal acts of faith, however, are also powerful ways to resist the temptations to doubt and despair.  Repeated phrases like, “Jesus, I trust in you” and “Your mercy endures forever” and “Your faithfulness is renewed every morning” help us to counteract the thoughts of doubt and despair that can creep into our minds and hearts (like “See, I knew you’d betray me” and “I guess your mercy only goes so far” and “This is a sign that you are not faithful to us”).  As much as it hurts, sometimes, fortifying ourselves with these verbal acts of faith helps us to endure.

          Finally, we need to turn to each other in support, and assure each other during this time.  God is bigger than us and our pastorate is bigger than any one person.  By supporting each other in faithfulness—that is, by consoling one another in sorrow and building each other up by speaking hopefully—you will help each other remain faithful, and the kingdom of heaven will continue to grow among you.

          My friends, as difficult as it may be to believe at times like this, the Lord is close to you.  He sees you, and he understands what is happening in your minds and your hearts.  Be faithful, therefore, and the Lord will see you through this “valley of tears” to lead you into the everlasting joy of heaven.  How do I know?  The proof is here in the Eucharist: in which he gives us his Word to strengthen our minds and hearts, and in which he lowers himself to meet us here, at this altar, to share his life with us.

          May our Eucharist today strengthen us and heal us.  And may we see the fruits of our faithfulness: both now and in eternity.

Given at St. Augustine Parish: Rensselaer, IN – July 18^th & 19^th, 2026

Given at Sacred Heart Parish: Remington, IN – July 19^th, 2026

Authentic disciples are intentional disciples

 Homily: 15^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle A

“Freedom isn’t free” is a well-used phrase here in the United States.  What it refers to is the cost associated with securing and maintaining the “freedom” that we enjoy as citizens of this nation.  Time spent by men and women in the armed forces is time spent away from home and personal pursuits and it can lead to greater sacrifices: sacrifices like one’s livelihood or even one’s life.  Our “freedom” comes at a cost, this phrase emphasizes, and those who enjoy it should not take it for granted.

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus draws out a similar point.  As he taught the crowd of would-be disciples, he spoke to them in parables.  Both his teaching and the conclusion of his teaching give us the impression that, underneath it all, what he is saying is that “salvation isn’t cheap”.  I’ll try to explain:

First, allow me to clarify that when I say that Jesus’ teaching in today’s Gospel implies that “salvation isn’t cheap”, I don’t mean that we somehow have to do something to earn salvation.  That would be heresy.  We have been redeemed by the sacrifice of Jesus ALONE, and this salvation is freely given to all who would receive it.  It is the “receiving it”, however, in which some work must be done.  Therefore, although salvation is free, it isn’t without cost.  Make sense?  Okay, let’s look now at the parable.

In many ways, the parable itself describes those who were there listening to his teaching that day: for many of them were like the ground that is too trampled, too rocky, or too choked with thorns to bear fruit from their encounter with the Word of God.  In many ways, the parable was not so much for those gathered in the crowd, but rather to teach Jesus’ closest disciples the truth about humankind: all will have varying degrees of openness to the Gospel message.  The thing that makes me say that Jesus is implying the phrase, “salvation isn’t cheap”, however, comes at the end of the parable, where Jesus says, “Whoever has ears ought to hear”.

Up to that point, as I said, Jesus’ parable was just a metaphor for the way God’s word would be received by different persons.  There was no moral judgment in it.  When he adds that last line, however, he adds moral weight to the parable.  With that line, what Jesus effectively said was, “you can choose to ignore this, but you shouldn’t.”  Here we find the work embedded in the gift of salvation.  “To hear” means that you’re ready to take responsibility for what you’ve heard.  If you choose not to, then you will be culpable for the consequences: the loss of the gift.  Salvation, like the seed sowed, is given freely; but if you are not receptive to it (that is, if you are closed off to it or holding onto obstacles to receiving it), then it cannot be yours.  To be ready to receive it, however, costs something.  Thus, only those who have made themselves ready to receive it, truly have it.  Therefore, once again, we see that, while salvation is truly free, it is not without cost.

The great reminder for us here is this: the only authentic disciples of Jesus (that is, those who are able to receive the gift of salvation) are intentional disciples.  Jesus explains this when he explains why he speaks to the crowds in parables.  In effect, he says: “I teach in parables because many of them have closed their hearts to my word and they refuse to do the work of understanding the parable.  These cannot receive the gift of salvation.  Those who seek to understand them, however (that is, those who have ears and have chosen to hear), have shown that their hearts are open to my word, where it may take root.  These may receive the gift of salvation, because they have intentionally prepared themselves to receive it.”

Friends, a parish registration, a crucifix on your wall, a bible on your coffee table, or a rosary on your rearview mirror does not make you a disciple of Jesus.  They may be signs that you are a disciple of Jesus, but they do not make you one.  You become a disciple of Jesus when you a) recognize that you have ears to hear and b) you choose to hear what Jesus has to say and thus strive to follow it.  More specifically, you are an intentional disciple of Jesus when you engage actively in his teaching, seeking to understand what it means and to root out any obstacles to your understanding (all with the help of the Holy Spirit), so that it might take root in you and grow, changing your life to be more like Jesus’ and thus producing fruit for the building of his kingdom.  When we refuse to do this, Jesus teaches us, we risk losing access to salvation altogether.

Friends, we all need work becoming more intentional disciples of Jesus, but the good news is that grace is abundant and so the help that we need is abundantly at hand!  We simply need to begin the work with humility and trust: humility in recognizing that salvation is a gift that we cannot earn on our own, and trust that God will be with us as we engage this good work.

To this end, I want to challenge you to spend time this week meditating on this parable from the thirteenth chapter of Matthew’s gospel.  Seek to understand if any of the obstacles that Jesus mentioned are present in you.  Is your heart hardened because many hardships in the world have trampled it down?  Have you relied on only a “surface level” understanding of God’s word and so often “wither” when challenges manifest themselves?  Are you so enmeshed with the “thorns” of your favorite sins that you are held back from producing good fruit?  All three?  If so, it’s okay.  Talk to Jesus about it and ask him to give you the light of the Holy Spirit to help you identify the first steps towards clearing these obstacles from your heart and for the courage to take them.  This kind of work is not easy, of course, but it is certainly pleasing to Jesus: for it is the work of a true disciple. ///

Friends, one look at the TV or social media will show us that the world desperately needs us to be fruit-producing disciples of Jesus.  Strengthened, therefore, by our Eucharist, let us embrace this good work and become agents of God’s life-saving work in the world.

Given at Saint Charles Borromeo Church: Peru, IN - July 12th, 2026

The true independence is obedience to the Father

 Homily: 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time – Cycle A

This weekend is a very proud weekend for the United States.  Yesterday we celebrated the declaration that the founding fathers of the United States made claiming independence from rule by the King of England.  We celebrate this with a feast: hot dogs and hamburgers grilled outdoors that are shared with friends and family; and with lavish displays of fireworks: an extravagant display of the warmth and the passion that we feel for this nation that we call home. This, of course, is not much different from the independence day celebrations that are held in Mexico and Central America in September each year.

That aside, however, what we celebrate on the 4th of July is the claim that we made on liberty.  The independence that we declared was a claim to liberty from an oppressive system of government.  It was not a claim to liberty from government, however, but rather a claim to liberty for a more just form of government.  Our founding fathers knew that government was necessary to provide order to a society; but they thought that a government chosen by the people whom it would govern and to whom it would be responsible would better preserve the liberty inherent to each person.  Freed from the oppressive burden of being ruled by the King of England, our founding fathers believed that the people could bear the much more gentle yoke of governing themselves.

When Jesus began his ministry among us he declared: “The Kingdom of God is at hand.”  These were strong words and to those who were anxiously hoping for God to send his Messiah to restore his kingdom here on earth, this was welcome news.  Like our declaration of independence, Jesus’ words seemed to be a declaration to the people of Judah and Israel that God’s liberation from their oppressive governors (that is, the Roman occupiers) had finally come.  This, however, was only partially true.  Jesus had come not to overthrow any particular government, but rather to claim liberty for mankind from the oppressive reign of sin.  His goal was to restore to humanity the liberty that it enjoyed in the Garden of Eden.

Just look at the Gospel reading today.  Jesus begins by saying, “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.”  What was our first sin?  Wasn’t it the sin of disobedience that led Eve to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil?  Isn’t it fitting, then, that God reveals the restoration of the liberty of the Garden of Eden to man precisely through those who are not learned; who have not, in a sense, eaten from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil?

Jesus then goes on to say, “All things have been handed over to me by my Father.”  In the Garden of Eden God declared that it would be a son of Eve who would strike the serpent’s head and restore mankind to its first dignity.  Thus we see Jesus revealing himself as that “Son of Eve” to whom God has given the power to restore humanity’s broken communion with the Father: for he says, “No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.”

Finally, Jesus proclaims the liberty that he has come to restore.  “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”  Does anyone remember what the first practical consequence of sin was?  The first real consequence of sin was death, right?  But that wasn’t experienced right away.  The first practical consequence, therefore, was something else.  And what was it?  Work!  Labor!  “By the sweat of your brow you will bring forth fruit from the earth” God told Adam when expelling him from the Garden.  Now Jesus claims “I will give you rest.”  Clearly he had in mind the freedom from oppressive labor that humanity enjoyed in the Garden of Eden.

Like the freedom that our founding fathers claimed for our nation, however, this freedom that Jesus claims for mankind is not a freedom from all rule.  Rather, he claims our freedom from the oppressive rule of sin and death in our lives so that we can be free to follow the rule of obedience—that is, the rule of harmony with God that governed us in the Garden of Eden.  This is the yoke of Jesus, the yoke that he claims is “easy” and “light”, and so it is: for it is under this yoke of obedience where labor truly finds rest.

Saint John Paul II once said, “Freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do what we ought.”  My brothers and sisters, if we are free in this country and elsewhere it is so that we can pursue the life of freedom; the life “in the Spirit” that Saint Paul talks about in our second reading.  The freedom to “do what we like”, however, is the life “in the flesh” that Saint Paul says leaves us as “debtors to the flesh”.  Now anyone who is in debt knows that they are not truly free.  Rather, they are chained to the debtor until the debt is paid.  Jesus Christ came, however, to free us from this debt of sin and life “in the flesh” so that we might be free to pursue the life of freedom—life “in the Spirit”—in which we experience rest from our labors.  This freedom restores to us the right to “do what we ought”: that is, to submit once again to the rule of obedience to God alone and thus to experience the rest our first parents experienced in the Garden.  This, my friends, is a liberty worth celebrating with a feast and with fireworks: the feast that we share here today and the fireworks that we bring into the world as we go forth, proclaiming the Good News.

Let us, then, my brothers and sisters, turn to Jesus—and to his Spirit who dwells within us—and let us take up his gentle yoke (and, thus, lay down the oppressive yoke of sin); for his is the sweet burden of obedience to the Father that will lead us to perfect rest.

Given in Spanish at St. Patrick Parish: Kokomo, IN – July 5th, 2026