Take Up. Break up. Wake up (2026-11-08, Sunday 32nd)

[__v.7]    2020-11-08_ 32^nd Sunday // Wisdom 6:12-6:16    // Psalm 63 // 1 Thessalonians 4:13-4:18 // Matthew 25:1-25:13

November 8, 2026 — Our Lady of Lourdes Church

Introduction — The Faith Handed On

In November, we celebrate the anniversary of the founding of Our Lady of Lourdes Parish in 1914.

Our first parishioners came from St. John's in Orange, together with their pastor, Monsignor Nicholas Marnell, and Father Joseph Connor, for whom Connor Hall downstairs is named.

We give thanks for them and pray for their eternal rest.

The faith they handed on to us is now our responsibility to live and pass on to others.

And today's Gospel reminds us that living our faith requires preparation, perseverance, and ongoing conversion.

I'd like to reflect on that through three expressions: Take Up, Break Up, and Wake Up.

1. TAKE UP — Accepting the Challenge

Jesus tells us that if we want to follow him, we must take up our cross each day.

Taking up our cross means more than simply doing something difficult. It means accepting the challenge of following Christ and building a relationship with him.

I learned something about accepting challenges many years ago when I was a freshman in college.

I had to take a course in Calculus I. Mathematics was not my strongest subject, and I knew it would be difficult.

After the first examination, I discovered just how difficult.

I got a 56.

That's not exactly the grade you want to show your parents.

I realized that if I continued that way, I was going to fail.

But a friend encouraged me to do something I hadn't considered: go to the professor for extra help.

And I'm glad I listened.

I began visiting the professor during his office hours, not just once, but repeatedly. I asked questions, learned from my mistakes, and gradually improved.

I learned the importance of perseverance. But I also learned something about myself.

And that brings me to the second expression.

2. BREAK UP — Changing Our Old Ways

In taking up that calculus course, I also had to break up with an old habit.

It was my tendency to give up too easily when something became difficult, or to refuse to ask for help.

Sometimes I tell myself, "I've got this," when the truth is, I don't got this!

And I don't always get it right today, either.

That old tendency hasn't completely disappeared. I'm still learning to ask for help rather than give up.

That's why conversion is not something we accomplish once and for all.

Conversion is a lifelong journey.

Following Jesus means breaking up with whatever prevents us from loving God and our neighbor: selfishness, dishonesty, resentment, and the temptation to put ourselves first.

Jesus gives us a way to live through his commandments.

For example, honor your father and your mother.

That commandment doesn't expire when we become adults, or even when our parents have died.

One way we honor our parents is by trying to preserve loving relationships with our brothers and sisters.

Sometimes those relationships become strained or distant. We may not always be able to restore the closeness we once had. But we can still pray for one another and try to act with charity.

We also practice the commandments when we choose honesty even though lying would be easier, or when we do the right thing even though nobody notices—or somebody else gets the credit.

These are practical ways we break up with our old habits and learn to love as Jesus teaches.

And I want to say something especially to the parents and young people preparing for Confirmation.

Parents, thank you.

Thank you for bringing your children to church, for making time for religious education, and for helping them grow in faith.

We want many good things for our children: success in school, good health, opportunities, and happiness.

But above all, we want them to develop a relationship with Jesus Christ that will sustain them throughout their lives.

And to our young people, remember:

Confirmation is not graduation from the Catholic Church.

Confirmation strengthens us through the Holy Spirit to continue a relationship with Christ that began at baptism.

The sacraments are not simply accomplishments we check off a list.

They help us continue growing in faith.

And that is true whether we're fourteen, forty, or ninety-four.

We're all still learning. We're all still called to conversion.

3. WAKE UP — Preparing to Meet Christ

And that brings us to today's Gospel.

Jesus tells us about ten bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom.

Five are wise, and five are foolish.

But here's something interesting.

All ten fall asleep.

It's not that the five wise bridesmaids stayed awake while the others slept.

All ten became drowsy and fell asleep.

The difference was that five had prepared by bringing extra oil for their lamps.

When the bridegroom arrived, they were ready.

The difference was preparation.

And that brings me back to my calculus class.

I remember being nervous about the final examination. I had improved during the semester, but I still had to take that final.

Fortunately, I had spent many weeks going to the professor, asking questions, practicing problems, and learning from my mistakes.

I didn't get every answer right. But the professor could see that I understood the method because I had shown my work.

I passed the course.

And I still remember that experience as a success.

But here's what I've come to realize: that was one course, many years ago.

I cannot simply live on that success.

The real question is whether I'm willing to apply that lesson today.

Am I still willing to ask for help when I need it?

Am I still willing to learn from my mistakes?

Am I still willing to change?

Because if I simply congratulate myself on something I accomplished many years ago, while refusing to grow today, I haven't really learned the lesson.

And the same is true of our faith.

We cannot simply rely on the fact that we received the sacraments years ago, or that we practiced our faith faithfully at some earlier point in our lives.

Like the wise bridesmaids, we are called to prepare now.

Our relationship with Jesus Christ must remain alive.

And when we fail, we can return to him through prayer, repentance, and the sacraments, trusting in his mercy and grace.

Our salvation is not a mathematical examination in which we earn enough points to pass. It is God's gift, and he invites us to respond to that gift throughout our lives.

So the lesson of that calculus course is not simply that I succeeded once.

It's that I must continue putting what I learned into practice.

And the lesson of the ten bridesmaids is not simply that five were prepared long ago.

It's that we must continue preparing to meet Christ today.

So TAKE UP the challenge of following Jesus Christ.

BREAK UP with the habits that keep us from loving God and our neighbor.

And WAKE UP to the reality that Christ is coming into our lives, and that one day we will meet him face to face.

For Jesus tells us:

"Stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour."

Amen.

All Souls (2026-11-02)

[VERSION 04] Remembered by Name, Held by Christ

All Souls Day — November 2, 2026

1. Remembering Our Loved Ones by Name

Today, on All Souls Day, and throughout the month of November, we remember the names of those who have died: our parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters, children, relatives, friends, and fellow parishioners.

We remember them not simply because they were part of our lives, but because we continue to love them. And because we love them, we pray for them.

Each person has a particular story, a particular life, and a particular relationship with us.

But our Christian hope rests on something greater than our ability to remember those who have died.

It rests on the promise of Jesus Christ, who tells us in today's Gospel:

"I will not reject anyone who comes to me."

And he promises:

"I will raise him on the last day."

2. Learning to Mourn with Faith

Many years ago, when I was about 29 years old, a very dear friend of our family died. His name was Jerry.

Jerry was someone my parents, my siblings, and I had known for many years. He was something of a father figure to me.

And when he died, his death shook me up personally.

I knew, of course, that people die. I knew that someday my parents would die. I knew that I would die.

But knowing something intellectually and confronting it personally are two different things.

Jerry's death forced me to recognize the reality of my own mortality and the mortality of the people I loved.

And I remember something else about his funeral.

My parents, my aunt, and my uncle showed me something about what it means to mourn as people of faith.

There was sadness, certainly. There were tears. But there was also laughter, gratitude, and the sharing of memories.

We could grieve Jerry's death and still give thanks to God for his life.

And as we were leaving the church after his funeral, my mother's brother, my uncle, said something that has stayed with me all these years.

He said, "That's how I want to be buried."

The funeral had been beautiful and deeply moving, and my uncle wanted something like that for himself.

But at 29 years old, I thought that was a strange thing to say. I wasn't thinking about my own death. But apparently my uncle was.

My uncle understood something that I was only beginning to understand.

He was preparing for his own death through his prayer, his faith, and his reception of the sacraments.

He understood that death is part of our human journey, but that death is not the end of our journey with God.

3. Purgatory: Preparing Us to Love Completely

And that brings us back to what we are doing here today.

On All Souls Day, we do more than remember the people who have died.

We pray for them.

We pray because we believe in God's mercy. And part of God's mercy is the purification that prepares us for the fullness of eternal life.

This is what the Catholic Church teaches us about Purgatory.

Think about a husband and wife who genuinely love one another. Their love is real, but that doesn't mean their love is perfect.

Perhaps one spouse is impatient, selfish, or always wants to have the last word.

That person may love deeply, but there is still something that needs to change in order to love more completely.

Throughout our lives, God calls us to grow in that kind of love: to become less selfish, more forgiving, more generous, and more willing to put others before ourselves.

And if we die in God's friendship but are not yet fully purified, we trust that God, in his mercy, completes that purification.

That's what we mean by Purgatory.

It is not a second chance to choose God after death. It is God's final purification of those who are already destined for heaven, preparing them for the fullness of life and love with him.

And so we pray for our loved ones who have died. We ask God to forgive their sins, purify them, and bring them into the fullness of eternal life.

Our love for them does not end with death. Neither do our prayers.

And we do this because of what Jesus promises in today's Gospel.

He tells us that he will not lose those whom the Father has given him.

And he promises:

"I will raise him on the last day."

Jesus does not promise that we will never experience grief or that death will never cause us pain.

Jesus himself wept at the death of his friend Lazarus.

But Jesus promises us something greater:

Death does not have the final word.

And today, as we remember our loved ones, we can also prepare for our own death, not by living in fear, but by living faithfully today through prayer, through the sacraments, and through loving God and one another.

We remember our loved ones because we love them. We pray for them because we believe in God's mercy. And we entrust them to Jesus Christ because he has promised not to lose those whom the Father has given him.

The promise of Jesus remains:

"I will raise him on the last day."

Amen.

Marathon Journey. All Saints (2026-11-01, Sunday)

[v. 8] All Saints Day — November 1, 2026 Revelation 7:2–4, 9–14 | 1 John 3:1–3 | Matthew 5:1–12

Finishing the Race Together

1. THE MARATHON — A Journey Together

In today's Gospel, Jesus sees the crowds, goes up the mountain, and teaches them the Beatitudes. On All Saints Day, another crowd can remind us of our journey toward sainthood.

Today is the New York City Marathon.

When the marathon began in 1970, about a hundred runners participated. They completed the entire race by running laps around Central Park. But in 1976, fifty (50) years ago, the organizers expanded the course through all 5 boroughs: Staten Island, Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Manhattan.

Today, more than 60,000 runners are expected. Imagine fitting them onto the old Central Park course. The race had to expand.  [PAUSE]

The marathon also requires New York City to change its routine. Streets close, bridges are restricted, and bus routes are disrupted. Other activities give way so the runners can proceed.

And the marathon is famous for its crowds. Thousands of spectators line the route, cheering people they have never met. They encourage elite athletes and ordinary runners struggling to finish, especially on the difficult miles.

Those three features of the marathon tell us something about becoming saints: we must go beyond familiar boundaries, make room for what matters, and help one another along the way.

2. MAKING ROOM FOR GOD — Poverty of Spirit

First, the expansion beyond Central Park reminds us that holiness cannot be confined to this church.

Coming to Mass on Sunday is foundational to practicing our Catholic faith. But we also practice that faith outside these walls: at work, at school, on the bus, in our neighborhoods, and through what we say and what we choose not to say.

In our first reading, Saint John describes a great multitude from every nation, race, people, and tongue. The call to holiness isn't reserved for those whose names are engraved in churches or whose statues stand on pedestals. God calls all of us to become saints, wherever he sends us.

Second, think about those road closures. To make the marathon possible, the city has to set aside other priorities. Our spiritual lives require choices too.

Sometimes we say no to something good in order to say yes to something better. We make time on Sunday for worship, family, and rest. We put aside unnecessary work or distractions, not because every other activity is wrong, but because our relationship with God deserves room to grow.

That brings us to the first Beatitude: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

What does it mean to be poor in spirit? It means recognizing that our lives depend ultimately on God, not simply on our possessions, achievements, or ability to control what happens.

Perhaps you've worked hard for an opportunity or some recognition. You hoped for it; perhaps you even deserved it. But you didn't receive it. You may have good reason to be disappointed, or even to question whether you were treated fairly.

Poverty of spirit doesn't mean pretending that injustice is acceptable. And disappointment doesn't necessarily mean that God wanted things to happen that way. It means that even when we don't get our way, we need not lose our trust in God. Our lives are still in his hands.

[PAUSE]

3. ENCOURAGING ONE ANOTHER — Looking Up

Now consider the cheering crowds. The runners may receive messages from family and friends on their phones or smartwatches: "Keep going! You can do it!" Those messages matter. But nobody can run 26 miles staring at a screen.

You have to look up. You have to notice the people around you.

[PAUSE]

Sometimes encouragement comes from someone you've never met. And someone beside you may need encouragement.

We don't always know who is struggling. A classmate, teacher, coach, coworker, or neighbor may be carrying a burden we cannot see. A kind word or time spent listening can help that person keep going.

And encouragement works in both directions. We need to offer it, but we also need to receive it.

The Archbishop assigned me here to serve as your spiritual father. But I've discovered that I'm also your brother on the journey, and sometimes a son of this parish, learning from the very people I've been sent to serve.

I've learned from your faith, your struggles, and your perseverance. You've encouraged me, and I'm grateful.

[PAUSE]

I'm still learning what it means to follow Jesus, just as we all are.

We want to finish the race. And we want to help one another finish the race.

4. ENDURANCE — Reaching the Finish Line

Finally, a marathon demands endurance. Not everyone running today is an elite athlete. Some are running their first marathon. Some are tired before they even reach the hardest miles. They aren't in perfect condition, but they've begun the race anyway.

That's an important lesson for our spiritual lives. We don't have to be perfect to begin, or to begin again. We come to God because we need his grace, not because we've already earned it.

Sometimes our plans fail, our prayers seem unanswered, or we feel we're falling behind. The Christian life isn't a sprint or a single perfect moment. It's a lifelong journey of responding to grace.

Near the end of his life, Saint Paul writes: "I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith."

He doesn't say everything went according to plan. He says he kept the faith.

The saints show us what that perseverance looks like. Saint Bernadette, whose relics we welcomed here recently, endured poverty, illness, and misunderstanding. Her life was far from easy, yet she continued to trust in God.

And today's second reading gives us the reason for our hope. Saint John says, "Beloved, we are God's children now." Not someday, when everything is perfect. Now.

He also promises that one day we shall see God as he is.

That's our destination. That's our finish line.

[PAUSE]

We want to finish the race. And we want to help one another finish the race.

May the saints pray for us, may we encourage one another, and may God's grace bring us to that finish line, where we shall see him face to face. Amen.

Directions. Love (2026-10-25, Sunday 30th)

[ver_07]   30^th Sunday _Year A ●●  October 25, 2026 ●● Exodus 22:20-26 ● Psalm 18 ● 1 Thessalonians 1:5c-10 ●  Matthew 22:34-40 ●●

Following the Directions of Love

1. Following Directions — Convenience and Commitment

We have become accustomed to the convenience of following directions.

Today, when we get into our cars, we enter an address into the GPS navigation system, and a voice tells us where to turn, when to exit, and whether there's traffic ahead.

We don't have to know the entire route. We simply follow the directions as they come.

But there's a difference between following directions because they're convenient and following directions because we're committed to reaching our destination.

Many years ago, in 1999, I was driving to City Island in the Bronx with my parents. They were in one car, and I was following them in another.

My father knew the way. I figured that as long as I kept his car in sight, I'd have no problem getting there.

But when we approached the George Washington Bridge, something happened.

My father had E-ZPass. I didn't.

He went through the toll plaza quickly, while I had to wait in another lane. By the time I got through, he was gone.

Suddenly, I had lost my directions.

I knew generally where I was going, but I didn't know every turn. So I had to pay attention to the signs along the highway.

And isn't that sometimes how we live our faith?

We may know generally where we're going. We want to follow God. We want to do what's right.

But knowing the destination isn't enough.

We have to pay attention to the directions along the way, even when following them becomes difficult.

2. The Greatest Commandment — Definition, Direction, Difficulty

In today's Gospel, the Pharisees ask Jesus:

"Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?"

Jesus answers:

"You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind."

And then he adds:

"You shall love your neighbor as yourself."

There are three ways we can understand what Jesus is teaching us: definition, direction, and difficulty.

First, the definition.

We know the Ten Commandments. The first three concern our relationship with God, and the remaining seven concern our relationships with one another.

Jesus summarizes them in these two great commandments: love God and love your neighbor.

Second, the direction.

These commandments give our lives direction. They tell us where we're supposed to be going and how we're supposed to live.

We might say, "I'm generally a good person. I believe in God. I try to treat people well. I'm moving in the right direction."

And that's a beginning.

But there's a third consideration: difficulty.

What happens when following God's commandments becomes difficult?

How do I love someone who doesn't love me in return?

How do I love someone who refuses to forgive me? Or forgive someone who has hurt me?

It's one thing to know the commandments. It's another thing to follow them when love requires sacrifice.

3. Recognizing the Signs — Learning to Love

In today's first reading from Exodus, God gives his people very specific directions.

Do not oppress the stranger, the widow, or the orphan. Do not take advantage of the poor. If you take someone's cloak as a pledge, return it before nightfall.

These aren't simply general statements about being a good person.

They're specific instructions about how we treat people, especially those who are vulnerable.

Jesus also teaches us to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, and visit the sick.

And sometimes the person who needs our love isn't someone in another country or another neighborhood.

That person may be living in our own home.

Sometimes the sign is that somebody is hungry or tired.

Sometimes it's what somebody is saying to us—or what somebody isn't saying.

Perhaps someone needs us to listen rather than give advice. Perhaps someone needs our patience or forgiveness.

These are ways we practice the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.

In our second reading, St. Paul praises the Thessalonians because they became imitators of the Lord and examples to other believers.

And isn't that how we learn to love?

We learn by following the example of others.

Think of our parents or grandparents, or someone who cared for an elderly or sick family member.

We remember how they treated others, how they made sacrifices, how they remained faithful when caring for someone became difficult.

Those examples teach us how to love.

And then we become examples for others.

The commandments give us our direction. The people we encounter help us recognize where that love is needed.

4. Waiting at the Destination — The New Commandment

Eventually, I followed the signs, found the correct exit, and arrived at City Island.

And when I got there, my father was standing at the gate, waiting for me.

He couldn't drive my car for me. He couldn't make every turn for me. But he was there when I arrived.

Isn't that sometimes our experience with people we love?

Perhaps it's a son or daughter who has stopped practicing the faith.

Perhaps it's someone who has made decisions that have caused great difficulty in their life.

We wish we could go back and make those decisions for them. We wish we could undo the mistakes or sins of the past.

But we cannot live another person's life.

We cannot prevent every mistake or every sin.

What we can do is remain faithful in love.

We can pray. We can offer guidance. We can forgive. We can make sacrifices. And we can remain present when someone needs our help.

And God does more than wait for us at the destination. His grace and mercy continue to seek us and guide us along the way, even when we lose our direction.

In today's Gospel, Jesus gives us the Greatest Commandment: love God and love your neighbor.

And at the Last Supper, Jesus gives his disciples the New Commandment:

"Love one another as I have loved you."

And he tells us how far that love is willing to go:

"No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."

Image. Render Unto God (2026-10-18, Sunday 29th)

 [ver_11]   29^th Sunday _Year A  ● ●    October 18, 2026    ● ● Isaiah 45:1, 4-6 ● Psalm 96 ● 1 Thessalonians 1:1-5b ●  Matthew 22:15-21  ●   ●

1. Whose Image? Whose Loyalty?

In today's Gospel, Jesus is asked whether it is lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar.

Jesus asks to see a coin and then asks, "Whose image is this?"  

If we were to modernize that question, we might say that Jesus is asking a question about brand loyalty.

Who are you loyal to?

Sometimes we almost define ourselves by the car we drive, the clothes we wear, or the phone we carry in our pocket.

Are you an Apple person or an Android person?

There's nothing wrong with having a favorite brand or product.

But Jesus isn't simply asking about commercial or corporate loyalty. He's asking something much more personal.

Who are we really loyal to? Who do we really follow?

And the first reading and the Gospel give us two interesting examples of political authority—and remind us that our ultimate loyalty belongs to God.

2. Cyrus and Caesar — Earthly Authority Has Limits

In the first reading, from Isaiah, we hear about Cyrus, the king of Persia.

The Jewish people had been carried off into exile in Babylon. Cyrus conquered Babylon and permitted them to return to their homeland.

What's remarkable is that Cyrus was not one of the people of Israel. Yet God worked through him to accomplish something good for his people.

In fact, Isaiah describes Cyrus as the Lord's anointed.

God was working through someone the people might never have expected.

Now, several centuries later, in today's Gospel, the Jewish people are living in their homeland, but under Roman authority.

And Jesus is asked a politically dangerous question:

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

It's a trap.  If Jesus says not to pay the tax, he risks being accused of opposing Rome. If he says to pay it, he risks alienating people who resent Roman occupation.

But Jesus doesn't fall into their trap.

He asks them to identify the image on the coin.

"Caesar's," they answer.

And Jesus responds:

"Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God."

We have responsibilities in this world, including civic and financial responsibilities. But those responsibilities never replace our ultimate obligation to God.

Caesar's authority has limits.

Cyrus was not God. Caesar was not God. And no political leader can take God's place.

3. God's Image — Even in Those Who Do Not Forgive Us

But Jesus' question about the coin leads us to an even more important question.

Caesar's image is on the coin.

Whose image is on you and me?

In Genesis chapter one, we read that God created human beings in his own image and likeness.

The coin bears Caesar's image. But you and I bear God's image.

And if we bear God's image, then giving God what belongs to God means more than fulfilling certain religious obligations.

It means offering ourselves to God through the way we live.

And here's something important.

Not only are you and I created in God's image. Every other person is created in God's image as well.

Everyone in this church is made in God's image. Even people we don't know are made in God's image.

And I'm sorry to say—or perhaps sorry to admit to myself—that sometimes even the people I don't like are made in God's image.

Even the person who has caused me great difficulty is made in God's image.

Even the person I find difficult to forgive is made in God's image.

Even the person who refuses to forgive me is made in God's image.

That can be a difficult truth to accept.

Sometimes it seems easier to remain angry at someone or to hold on to resentment.

But then we remember Jesus' words:

"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

We don't have to agree with everyone. We don't have to approve of everything someone says or does.

But we are called to recognize God's image in them.

Saint Paul reminds us that love is patient and love is kind.

And sometimes loving another person means taking up our cross.

4. The Cross — Our Personal Response to God's Love

Jesus told his disciples that following him would mean taking up their cross.

And Jesus himself showed us what that means.

At the Last Supper, he said, "This is my body, which will be given for you."

His words became a gift of himself.

And sometimes taking up our cross means quietly doing what is right, even when it is difficult, even when nobody notices, and even when we receive nothing in return.

The Cross is the great sign of Christ's love for us.

It reminds us that Jesus gave himself for us, that our sins can be forgiven through the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation, and that we are called to extend forgiveness to others.

But the Cross is not simply an outward sign of our Christian identity. It calls for something personal, something that changes the way we live.

And there's a familiar gesture we make at every Mass, just before hearing the Gospel.

We trace 3 small Signs of the Cross: on our forehead, on our lips, and over our heart.

We ask that God's Word be in our minds, on our lips, and in our hearts.

That's not simply an outward gesture. It's meant to become part of our interior lives.

Perhaps we can remember those three small Signs of the Cross before a difficult conversation, before responding to someone who has hurt us, or before speaking with someone with whom we disagree.

We can quietly ask God to guide our thoughts, our words, and our hearts.

Sometimes that means finding the right words. Sometimes it means choosing not to say something hurtful.

And sometimes all we can do is pray for someone we find difficult to love.

Because that other person, even someone who has hurt us or refuses to forgive us, is also made in God's image.

The Cross reminds us of the love Christ has already shown us. Our Christian lives are our response to that love.

The coin bears Caesar's image. But you and I bear God's image. And so does every person we encounter.

"Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God."

Invitation / Wedding Garment (2026-10-11, Sunday 28th)

[ver_04]   28^th Sunday _Year A ● ●   October 11, 2026  ● ● 

● ●   Isaiah 25:6-25:10a ● ●   Psalm 23:1-23:3a, 23:3b-23:4, 23:5, 23:6 ● ●   Philippians 4:12-4:14, 4:19-4:20 ● ●   Matthew 22:1-22:14 ● ●

 The Invitation and the Wedding Garment

1. The Invitation — Our Last Family Vacation

Jesus tells a parable about a king who prepares a wedding banquet for his son. Invitations are sent out, but many of the invited guests have other priorities. They have other things to do, and they don't show up.

We know what that's like. We receive invitations, and sometimes we accept them. Other times, we have other priorities.

Many years ago, my family went on vacation together. It was actually the last family vacation we ever took with just the six of us—my parents, my three siblings, and me—before marriages, careers, and other responsibilities changed our family life.

Our vacation took place during the week of August 15th, the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a holy day of obligation.

My mother told us we were all going to Mass that Tuesday.

Nobody particularly wanted to go. We were on vacation! But my mother insisted, and we went.

And I have to tell you, it wasn't a particularly enjoyable experience.

The church was extremely crowded. The air conditioning wasn't working very well. The homily was terrible. And I don't think we particularly liked the priest either!

Now that I'm a priest myself, I have a little more sympathy for him. In fact, I still remember him in my prayers from time to time.

But what stayed with me was that my mother was glad we had gone to Mass, even though the rest of us weren't particularly happy about the experience.

Looking back, I realize she was teaching us something important.

Our relationship with God cannot depend entirely upon whether everything goes the way we want it to go.

Sometimes the music isn't what we prefer. Sometimes the homily isn't what we wanted to hear. Sometimes we'd rather be doing something else.

But it matters that we are here. It matters that we have heard God's invitation and responded.

2. The Wedding Garment — How God Sees Us

But today's Gospel takes an unexpected turn.

The king sends his servants to invite others, and the banquet hall fills with guests. Then the king notices someone who has accepted the invitation and shown up, but who isn't wearing the proper wedding garment.

Now, I wonder: Did the other guests even notice how this man was dressed?

We don't know. But the king noticed.

And that reminds us of something important.

We often compare ourselves with other people. We notice their appearance, their accomplishments, their behavior. Sometimes we judge ourselves by how we compare with them.

But we don't really know what's going on inside another person's life.

We don't know all their struggles, their sins, their sacrifices, or even their hidden acts of kindness.

But God knows. God sees what other people cannot see.

And I know I'm sometimes guilty of comparing myself with others rather than examining my own life according to the example of Jesus Christ.

I might say, "Well, I'm really not that bad. I haven't done anything seriously wrong."

But sometimes I don't even recognize the ways I need to change.

That's why I need prayer, reflection, and the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

In the Christian tradition, the wedding garment represents charity—the love of God and love of neighbor.

It's not simply about looking good or appearing religious.

The wedding garment represents the life of charity that God's grace is forming within us.

God invites us freely. But accepting that invitation also means allowing his grace to change our lives.

3. Confession and Saint Bernadette — Interior Conversion

Think about what happens when we go to confession.

Nobody else hears what we confess. Nobody sees what happens within our hearts.

But through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, God forgives our sins, restores us through his mercy, and gives us the grace to begin again.

That's one example of how God helps us grow into that wedding garment.

And this past Wednesday, we had the extraordinary privilege of welcoming the relics of Saint Bernadette to Our Lady of Lourdes Parish.

It was a beautiful day. Many people came to pray, attend Mass, and venerate the relics. I'm grateful to everyone who helped welcome our visitors.

But we didn't welcome the relics simply to honor someone who lived many years ago.

Bernadette points beyond herself to the Blessed Virgin Mary. And Mary always points us toward Jesus Christ.

The purpose of our devotion is not simply to admire the holiness of the saints.

It is to allow God's grace to lead us toward holiness in our own lives.

4. After Mass — Growing Into the Wedding Garment

And that brings us back to the wedding garment.

We come to Mass because God invites us. We hear his Word. We receive the Eucharist. We encounter Christ in the sacraments.

But what happens when we leave church?

I know that sometimes I can walk out into the parking lot after Mass and find myself becoming impatient with somebody almost immediately!

Sometimes I may be less forgiving than I ought to be, even after celebrating Mass.

Conversion doesn't always happen instantaneously.

God continues to work within us, sometimes gradually, teaching us to become more patient, more forgiving, and more attentive to the needs of others.

And we are called to respond to that grace, day after day.

That's what it means to grow into the wedding garment.

It's not simply a costume we put on when we enter the church. It's not merely about showing up or appearing religious.

The wedding garment is the life of charity that God's grace is forming within us—a love of God that becomes visible in our love of neighbor.

God invites us to the banquet.

And by his grace, he prepares us to live as people who belong to his Kingdom.

God Who Comes Close (2026-10-07) Relics St. Bernadette

[ver_02]   27^th week Wednesday October 7, 2026  ● ●   Bernadette Relics / Holy Rosary ● ●  

The God Who Comes Close

Wednesday, October 7, 2026 — Our Lady of the Rosary
Visit of the Relics of Saint Bernadette Soubirous

1. “Lord, Teach Us to Pray”

There is something beautifully simple about the request the disciples make to Jesus in today's Gospel:

“Lord, teach us to pray.”

They have watched Jesus pray. They know that there is something about His relationship with the Father that they want for themselves.

And Jesus gives them words that are very familiar to us:

Father.
Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins.

They are simple words.

And perhaps that simplicity is particularly appropriate today, on the Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, and on this extraordinary day when we welcome the relics of Saint Bernadette to our parish.

Because Bernadette was also taught to pray simply.

At Lourdes, she prayed the Rosary.

She did not arrive at the grotto with great theological knowledge. She did not arrive with power, wealth, education, or influence.

She came as Bernadette.

And God met her there.

2. God Comes Down

A few days ago, we heard the Gospel of the Good Samaritan.

There is an interesting geographical detail in that Gospel. The man is traveling down from Jerusalem to Jericho.

And it really is down.

Jerusalem is high in the hills. Jericho is one of the lowest cities on earth, near the Dead Sea, the lowest place on the earth's surface.

The man goes down—and at that low place, he is wounded and left beside the road.

And then someone unexpected comes to him.

A Samaritan.

To Jesus' listeners, the Samaritan is the outsider. He is the person they might have expected to stay away.

Instead, he comes close.

He sees the wounded man.

He bends down.

He tends his wounds.

He lifts him up.

The early Church saw something of Jesus Himself in that Samaritan.

Because this is what God does for us.

God comes down.

He does not remain at a safe distance from wounded humanity.

He comes to us in the lowest places—in our weakness, our suffering, our sin, our confusion, even in those moments when we wonder whether God is there at all.

3. Bernadette: Following Without Knowing Everything

And perhaps Saint Bernadette helps us understand what it means to receive that grace.

Bernadette was an unlikely messenger.

She came from poverty. Her health was poor. Her family had experienced hardship. And when she began describing what happened at the grotto, not everyone believed her.

She was questioned.

She was challenged.

She became the object of enormous attention.

And yet there is something striking about her humility.

Bernadette did not need to make herself the center of the story.

She did not pretend that she understood everything.

She simply tried to respond faithfully to what had been given to her.

That is an important lesson for us.

Sometimes we think following God means understanding exactly where God is leading us.

But very often it doesn't.

Sometimes faith means taking the next step without knowing the whole road.

Sometimes prayer means saying:

“Father, give us today our daily bread.”

Not bread for the next ten years.

Not an explanation for everything that has happened.

Daily bread.

Enough grace for today.

Bernadette followed with that kind of simplicity.

4. The Rosary and the Method of God

And that brings us to the Rosary.

The Rosary itself is simple.

Hail Mary.

Hail Mary.

Hail Mary.

Again and again.

But those repeated prayers keep bringing us back to Jesus.

We contemplate Christ with Mary.

The Annunciation.

The Visitation.

Bethlehem.

The Cross.

The Resurrection.

The Rosary keeps returning us to the great mystery at the center of our faith:

God comes close.

The God who created heaven and earth does not simply send us instructions from a distance.

God enters our history.

God takes flesh.

God becomes vulnerable.

God comes down among us.

And He does it quietly.

Not by overpowering the world, but through the humility of the Virgin Mary.

Through a child born at Bethlehem.

Through a Savior who kneels before His disciples.

Through a man who carries a Cross.

And even centuries later, at Lourdes, God's grace becomes visible again through someone the world could easily have overlooked: a poor young girl named Bernadette.

That seems to be the method of God.

God so often chooses what is humble in order to reveal what is great.

5. The Relics Point Beyond Bernadette

That is also why these relics are here today.

We do not come simply to look at something associated with a famous person.

Relics remind us that Christianity is incarnational.

God works through real human lives.

Through bodies.

Through places.

Through water.

Through bread and wine.

Through ordinary human beings who allow His grace to work within them.

Bernadette's relics therefore point beyond Bernadette.

They point toward Lourdes.

Lourdes points toward Mary.

And Mary always points toward Jesus.

Ultimately, everything brings us back to Christ.

The One who comes down to wounded humanity.

The One who teaches us to call God Father.

The One whom Mary carried within her.

The One whom Bernadette sought to follow.

The One who comes close to us even now.

And so perhaps our prayer today can be very simple.

When we are wounded, may we trust that Jesus will not pass us by.

When we do not understand where God is leading us, may we have the humility of Bernadette to take the next faithful step.

And when we pray the Rosary, may Mary always lead us where she led Bernadette:

not finally to herself,

but to her Son.

And we can make our own today the prayer the Church so often places upon our lips:

Pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts;
that we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son,
was made known by the message of an angel,
may by His Passion and Cross
be brought to the glory of His Resurrection.

Amen.