Begin Again (2026-10-04 _ Sunday 27th)

[ver_04]   27^th Sunday _Year A   ● ●  October 4, 2026  ● ●   ● ●   ● Isaiah 5:1-7 ● Psalm 80 ● Philippians 4:6-9 ● Matthew 21:33-43  ●● ●

When Did Your Life Begin?

1. When Did Your Life Begin?

When did your life begin?

If I asked you that question, you would naturally think about your date of birth: month, day and year.

But there are other ways to answer that question.

Our life begins when we discover what we are good at, what we are going to do with our lives, what our calling or vocation might be.

Our life begins again when we confess our sins and receive absolution from God in the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation.

Our life begins again when, with God's grace, we find the strength to forgive someone who has trespassed against us.

There are many times throughout our lives when God gives us the grace to begin again.

2. Priesthood, Home and Seminary

Sometimes people ask me, "Padre, when did you know you wanted to be a priest?"

There wasn't one particular moment.

After college, I took a gap year before going to the seminary—and then I repeated the gap year about thirteen times.

Eventually, I entered the seminary in my mid-thirties.

But after I entered the seminary, I realized that my formation for the priesthood had begun long before that.

It began at home—with my mother and father, my grandparents, my two brothers and my sister. It began through the way we lived together and practiced our faith.

God was already forming me before I understood where he was leading me.

And that's true for all of us.

God is at work in our lives even before we recognize what he is doing.

3. Respect Life Sunday

Today is Respect Life Sunday, and so that question—When did your life begin?—takes on another meaning.

Our Catholic faith teaches us that human life is sacred from conception until natural death.

Before we know whether a child will be rich or poor, strong or weak, healthy or sick, successful or unsuccessful, that life already has dignity.

Life is God's gift.

And Respect Life Sunday is not simply about winning an argument or proving a point.

It is about protecting unborn life, but also about caring for the mother and father who may be experiencing a difficult or crisis pregnancy.

It is about caring for the elderly, the sick, people living with disabilities, and anyone whose life may seem vulnerable or unwanted.

Every life has dignity.

4. Respect Life and Mercy

And respect for life has to become concrete.

Here at Our Lady of Lourdes, one way we do that during October is through our Respect Life Baby Shower.

We collect new items—diapers, blankets, clothing—and monetary donations for Several Sources in Ramsey, helping mothers, children and families who may need practical assistance.

But there is another way Respect Life Sunday has to become concrete.

It has to include mercy.

If you have ever been involved, directly or indirectly, in an abortion, or if you carry sorrow or regret because of one, remember this:

God's mercy is greater than any of our sins.

No sin is beyond God's reach.

And if you have been away from the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation for a long time, any priest—including me—would be happy to hear your confession and guide you through the steps.

There is contrition.

There is absolution.

There is forgiveness.

There is healing.

And with God's grace, life can begin again.

5. The Vineyard

That brings us to the vineyard in today's Gospel.

A landowner carefully prepares a vineyard and entrusts it to tenants.

When the time comes for the harvest, he sends servants to receive its fruit. But the tenants reject them.

Finally, the owner sends his son, thinking:

"They will respect my son."

But they reject the son too.

Jesus is speaking about himself.

He is the Son who is sent into the vineyard and rejected.

But being rejected does not mean that he has no value.

Quite the opposite.

Jesus tells us that the stone rejected by the builders becomes the cornerstone.

6. What Has Been Entrusted to Us?

And that word entrusted is important.

The tenants have been entrusted with the vineyard. They don't own it absolutely.

And so many things in our lives have been entrusted to us.

Our possessions have been entrusted to us.

Our abilities and talents have been entrusted to us.

Our time has been entrusted to us.

Our families have been entrusted to us.

Our children have been entrusted to us.

Life itself has been entrusted to us.

We receive these things as gifts from God, and we are called to cultivate them and bear fruit with them.

7. What Fruit Are We Producing?

And so the Gospel leaves us with another question:

What fruit are we producing with what God has entrusted to us?

Can a frightened mother find somebody willing to stand beside her?

Can parents struggling to care for a child find support?

Can someone who is elderly or sick know that his or her life still matters?

Can someone carrying sorrow from the past discover that God's mercy is greater than that past?

We will not always produce the fruit perfectly.

We fail.

We sin.

We make mistakes.

But God's mercy is greater than our failures.

And God continually gives us the grace to begin again.

8. Christ the Cornerstone

So we return to the question with which we began:

When did your life begin?

Our physical life has a beginning.

But throughout our lives, God continually calls us to new beginnings.

Life is God's gift.

Life is entrusted to us.

And when we fail to care for that gift as faithfully as God calls us to, we can turn back to him.

Because our failures are not the cornerstone.

Christ is.

Even when we fail, Christ remains.

Even when we wander, Christ calls us back.

Even when we need to begin again, Christ continues to build us up.

"The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; by the Lord has this been done, and it is wonderful in our eyes."

Vineyard (2026-09-27, Sunday 26th)

[ver_02]   26^th Sunday _Year A __ September 27, 2026  ● Ezekiel 18:25-28 ●  Psalm ● Philippians 2:1-11 ● Matthew 21:28-32  ●  

1. SAY AND DO — What Did They Actually Do?

It is significant to notice whom Jesus is addressing in today’s Gospel. He is speaking to the chief priests and elders—the people who are supposed to know the Law and the Prophets very well. They are the religious and legal experts.

So Jesus gives them what we might call a case study.

A man has two sons. He tells both of them to go out and work in the vineyard. The first says, “I will not,” but later changes his mind and goes. The second gives the right answer—“Yes, sir”—but then does not go.

Jesus asks: “Which of the two did his father’s will?”

The answer is obvious: the one who actually went.

Jesus is reminding these religious leaders—and you and me—that it is not enough simply to know the right answer or say the right thing. Our faith also has to become visible in what we do.

There is an old question about Christian discipleship: If you were picked up and arrested for being a Catholic, would there be enough evidence to hold and convict you?

I have to ask myself: If I’m ever picked up and arrested for being a Catholic priest, would there be enough evidence to hold and convict me?

You might say, “Padre, you would go to jail forever. You wear vestments. You live in a rectory. Your name is on the bulletin.”

But is that enough?

Beyond what I wear, where I live, and what I am called, is there evidence in the way I actually live?

2. SUNDAY AND GIFT — More Than an Hour

One place all of us can ask that question is Sunday.

Yes, you and I have an obligation as Catholics to attend Sunday Mass. But does our obligation to God end after the forty-five minutes or hour we spend at Mass?

Sunday is more than an hour.

Sunday is the Lord’s Day, the day of the Resurrection. It is a day for God, for rest, for family, for love of neighbor. Mass is at the heart of Sunday, but the sacredness of Sunday does not end when we walk out the church door.

And I especially want our children and young people to understand that.

Boys and girls, when your parents bring you to church on Sunday, they are not simply imposing another rule on you. They are giving you a gift.

They are giving you time to know that God loves you. They are giving you time to pray and worship with your family. They are reminding you that you belong to a family and to a community of faith.

And for all of us, it is never too early and never too late to begin again with Sunday Mass.

Sunday is a gift of time.

The question is: What do we do with that gift?

3. PRIORITY AND INTENTION — What Sets the Tone?

This came home to me one Christmas Day several years ago. Christmas happened to fall on a Sunday, and there was plenty of NFL football on television.

My family was together. The television was on. The games were on. We wanted to see the touchdowns, the quarterbacks, who was winning and who was losing.

Eventually Christmas dinner was served, and we tried to say grace together.

Some people participated. Some people didn't. We were out of sync. And afterward there was some dissatisfaction: We couldn't even say grace together properly on Christmas Day.

But I thought about it later.

Did the problem really begin at the dinner table? Or had it begun hours earlier—or perhaps years earlier—with the way we thought about Sunday and Christmas Day?

I am not saying you cannot watch football on Sunday. I am not saying you cannot watch the Knicks, play golf, watch a movie, go out to dinner, or enjoy yourself.

The question is: What gets the priority? What sets the tone for the day?

I can remember when youth sports were beginning to be played on Sundays in my hometown. Even then, the games tended to begin later in the afternoon. Sunday morning was still treated differently.

And some of us are old enough to remember another Sunday tradition: you called your mother or your parents on Sunday.

Why Sunday?

One practical reason was that long-distance telephone rates were cheaper on Sundays. Today, with unlimited calling, that probably sounds strange.

But there is something interesting about it. Certain things used to be built into our schedules, our communities, even our economy, that helped make Sunday different.

Many of those things are gone.

So today, perhaps we have to be more intentional.

We have to make choices about preserving time for God, for rest, for family, and for people who may need our attention.

4. VINEYARD AND TODAY — The Time God Gives Us

And that brings us back to the vineyard.

The vineyard in today's Gospel is not just a place.

The vineyard is also a time.

And this church, this Mass, this Sunday, is part of the vineyard.

The first son initially said no. But then he changed his mind.

That is one of the most hopeful parts of the Gospel.

Maybe Mass has fallen away for someone. Maybe Sunday has gradually become just another day. Maybe schedules, sports, work, phones, television, or a hundred other things have crowded out time for God and one another.

The Gospel does not say that because we once said no, the story is over.

We can change our minds. We can begin again.

It is never too late and never too early to begin again with Sunday, with Mass, with our families, and with God.

And the vineyard extends beyond Sunday. It is the time God gives us and the people God places before us: our spouses, our children, our parents as they grow older, our relatives and friends, someone who is sick or alone, someone who needs our time.

Jesus asks the chief priests and elders which son did the Father's will.

Not which one knew the correct answer.

Not which one made the better promise.

Which one actually went?

That is the invitation to you and me—not only by what we say and believe, but by the choices we make with the time God has given us.

The Father still says to each one of us:

“You, go out and work in my vineyard today.”

Early. Late (2026-09-20, Sunday 25th)

[ver_07]   25^th Sunday _Year A September 20, 2026

  ● Isaiah 55:6-9 ● Psalm 145 ● Philippians 1:20c-24, 27a ● Matthew 20:1-16 ●  

— SINGING TOGETHER

Before I begin the homily, I want to ask something of all of us.

The Church calls us to full and active participation in the Mass, and one of the ways we participate is by singing. Singing isn't simply something the choir or our cantor does for us while we listen. They have their role: they lead us. But we have a role too.

As Saint Augustine said, “Singing is for one who loves.”

So please pick up the hymnal and join in. If you're not accustomed to singing, begin with a part of the Mass or a hymn that seems familiar to you. Even picking up the hymnal sets an example of prayer.

Together, we sing the praises of God.

And that word “together” is important in today's Gospel.

1. CROSSWALK — PAY ATTENTION

A few hours ago, I was standing outside the church, about to cross the street. It was sunny and hot, and a young person walked up to me and simply said:

“Stay hydrated.”

It was a small kindness, but it caught my attention.

Sometimes we need somebody to interrupt us with a simple reminder that helps us.

And God continues to do that in our lives.

In today's Gospel, the landowner keeps going out looking for workers—early in the morning, at nine, at noon, at three, and finally at the eleventh hour.

God keeps going out.

God keeps calling.

2. CONTINUOUS CALLING — NEVER TOO EARLY, NEVER TOO LATE

That means it is never too late to hear God's Word.

It is never too late to come back to church.

It is never too late to invite someone else to come back.

And if you're a parent with children, it is never too early to bring them to church.

We want your children here.

We recognize that children are not always going to be perfectly still or perfectly silent. That's okay. They are learning that this is their church too. They are experiencing prayer, worship, and community.

Some of us have practiced the faith for many years.

Some may only be discovering the faith.

Some may be beginning again after being away.

The landowner keeps going out because God's invitation continues.

3. COMMUNITY — ONE VINEYARD

But notice something else.

The landowner calls each worker individually, but he doesn't give each worker a separate vineyard.

He calls them into one vineyard.

God calls you individually. God calls me individually. But God also calls us to work together.

We are seeing that here in our own parish as we prepare to welcome the relics of Saint Bernadette on October 7.

I've been very encouraged by the response of so many people who have volunteered.

Some will welcome visitors. Some will help with practical arrangements. Some will pray. Many will simply come and participate faithfully.

We don't all have the same role.

But together we can welcome people to Our Lady of Lourdes and, through the witness of Saint Bernadette, help point people toward Christ.

The same is true in a family.

One person may provide financially. Someone else may prepare meals. Someone may care for an elderly relative. Someone may simply be the person who keeps everybody communicating.

We are called individually.

But we work in the vineyard together.

4. CONTRIBUTION — GIVE SOMEONE A PLACE TO BEGIN

Sometimes we need somebody to show us where we can begin.

That's an important detail in today's Gospel.

The landowner asks the workers, “Why do you stand here idle all day?”

They answer:

“Because no one has hired us.”

The Gospel doesn't tell us that they refused to work. It doesn't tell us that they were lazy.

No one had given them the opportunity.

That reminds me of something from my own life.

When I was in college, I tried out for the soccer team. I had played soccer in high school, and I thought maybe I could make the team.

I didn't.

I got cut.

But I still wanted to participate in sports, so I became a sports writer for the college newspaper. Eventually I covered the men's basketball team.

Their coach was a very serious man. One day he took some time with me and taught me how to interview someone after a game—how to listen, how to ask better questions, how to communicate.

I wasn't one of his players.

I wasn't even on his team.

I was on the periphery.

But what he taught me has stayed with me all these years.

One opportunity had closed. But someone showed me another place where I could begin.

And we can do that for one another.

We can make the phone call.

We can invite somebody to church.

We can tell someone about confession.

We can invite someone to help.

Sometimes somebody who appears uninterested may simply not know where to begin.

The landowner doesn't stand in the vineyard complaining that nobody is helping him.

He goes out and invites them in.

5. CONTRITION — BEGIN AGAIN

And perhaps one of the most important places where we discover that it is never too late to begin again is in confession.

Maybe it has been a few weeks.

Maybe a few months.

Maybe many years.

We come back. We acknowledge our sins. We ask God's forgiveness. And, through God's grace, we begin again.

But God's mercy doesn't mean that nothing is expected of us.

The workers who were hired at the eleventh hour still went into the vineyard and worked.

The early worker is not excused from humility.

The late worker is not excused from fidelity.

Whenever God's call comes, it asks for a response.

It asks for fidelity.

It asks for virtue.

It asks us to love and serve one another.

And God keeps going out.

Sometimes He calls us through Scripture. Sometimes through prayer. Sometimes through another person. Sometimes even through a simple reminder we weren't expecting.

The invitation remains.

It is never too early, and it is never too late, to hear God's call, to receive His mercy, to enter His vineyard—and to begin again.

Mercy. 77. (2026-09-13, Sunday 24th)

[ver_05]   24^th Sunday _Year A  - September 13, 2026  - Sirach 27:30-28:7 -- Psalm 103:1-103:2, 103:3-103:4, 103:9-103:10, 103:11-103:12  -- Romans 14:7-14:9, Matthew 18:21-18:35

 

1. Peter Is Counting

In today's Gospel, Jesus says:

“The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants.”

You and I are those servants.

But sometimes we have questions about what is being counted—about what we owe and what somebody else owes us.

Peter has a question about counting:

“Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?”

Peter probably thinks he is being generous.

Once? Twice? Three times?

Peter is willing to go as high as seven.

But Jesus says:

“I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.”

Jesus is not simply giving Peter a larger number. He is telling Peter not to put a numerical limit on forgiveness.

Stop counting.

2. The Three R's of Mercy

And this reminds us of God's forgiveness of us.

We cannot exhaust God's mercy. His mercy is readily available whenever we sincerely turn back to him.

Perhaps we can remember this with three R's:

Readily Available. Repentance. Reconciliation.

First, God's mercy is Readily Available. We never have to conclude that we have used up our opportunities to return to God.

Second, our response involves Repentance. We acknowledge our sins, sincerely turn back to God, and ask for his forgiveness.

And third is Reconciliation. In the Sacrament of Reconciliation, God forgives us and restores our relationship with him.

So seventy-seven is not simply a larger quota.

God's mercy is not exhausted by our arithmetic. We receive that mercy—and then we are called, with God's grace, to extend mercy to others.

3. Servant A and Servant B

And then Jesus tells a story about money. But the message is about much more than “show me the money.”

There are two servants and two debts.

Servant A owes the king an enormous amount—far beyond anything he can possibly repay.

He begs the king:

“Be patient with me.”

But the king does something extraordinary.

He forgives the entire debt.

Then Servant A goes out and meets Servant B.

Servant B owes Servant A a much smaller amount.

But Servant A—the man who has just had his enormous debt forgiven—refuses to forgive the much smaller debt owed to him.

He has received mercy.

But he is still counting what somebody else owes him.

4. Debt Follows Us Around

We can understand why Jesus uses debt as such a powerful image.

Some translations of the Our Father say:

“Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”

And actual financial debt can affect our whole lives.

Debt can follow you around. It can follow me around. It can follow us around.

It can keep us awake at night. It can affect our concentration, our conversations and our relationships.

Imagine owing something that you simply cannot repay—and then hearing:

Your debt is forgiven.

The debt we cannot repay becomes an image of how completely we depend upon God's mercy.

And yet, after receiving mercy, we can still start counting what somebody else owes us.

What did that person say?

What didn't that person say?

What did that person do?

What didn't that person do?

I've done this. Perhaps you have too.

We keep count.

And Jesus says:

Stop counting.

5. Forgiveness Is Not Always Reconciliation

But it is important to recognize what forgiveness does—and does not—mean.

Forgiveness does not mean calling something evil good.

It does not mean pretending that nothing happened.

It does not mean approving something that was truly wrong.

And forgiveness is not always the same thing as reconciliation between two people.

We may forgive someone even when restoring the relationship is not within our power.

The person may live far away.

The person may have died.

Or in some circumstances, restoring the relationship may not be safe or wise. Appropriate boundaries may need to remain.

Reconciliation between people is a good thing when genuine reconciliation is possible.

But reconciliation may not always be within our power.

With God's grace, forgiveness is still possible.

We refuse to allow anger, resentment or vengeance to corrupt our hearts.

6. The Bag

Some years ago, I heard a real-life story told by a flight attendant who loved her work but also understood its pressures and responsibilities.

Those pressures became especially intense after September 11, 2001.

People were anxious about flying. People felt unsafe. And flight attendants carried an enormous responsibility for the safety of everyone aboard.

A few weeks after September 11, she was working a flight from New York to California.

A man boarded carrying a large trash bag.

He put it carefully into the overhead compartment.

And then he watched it very closely.

He guarded it.

Naturally, in those anxious weeks after September 11, she became suspicious.

Eventually, during the flight, she approached him and began a conversation.

She asked:

“What brought you to New York? Business or pleasure?”

He answered:

“Neither. I came because of my son.”

His son had been a New York City firefighter who died at the World Trade Center on September 11.

His son's body had never been recovered.

But some of his firefighter uniform and gear had been recovered from the rubble of the collapsed towers.

That was what the father was carrying home in the bag.

“It's all I have left of him.”

And suddenly she no longer saw merely a suspicious passenger.

She saw a grieving father.

7. What Someone Else Is Carrying

Now, this father had done nothing wrong. He had not trespassed against the flight attendant.

So this is not exactly a story about forgiveness.

But it reminds us of something important:

We do not always know what another person is carrying.

We see what somebody did.

We hear what somebody said.

We remember what somebody failed to do.

But we do not always know the whole story.

And that can matter when we begin counting what another person owes us.

It does not make an injustice just.

It does not make something wrong right.

But it can help us look at another person with greater mercy.

There may be many people you or I are called to forgive.

Or perhaps there is just one person.

We do not always know everything that person is carrying.

But we do know the mercy that God has shown to us.

8. You and I Are Those Servants

Peter asks Jesus:

“How many times must I forgive? As many as seven times?”

Jesus says:

“I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times.”

Not simply a higher number.

Stop counting.

Remember the mercy you have received.

God's mercy is readily available.

We turn to him in repentance.

And in Reconciliation, our relationship with him is restored.

Then, with God's grace, we become people of mercy toward others.

This is why Jesus says: “The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who decided to settle accounts with his servants.” You and I are those servants.

Church at Home / Home at Church (2026-09-06, Sunday-23)

[ver_06]   23^rd Sunday _Year A 

1. The Keys — Christ Builds, We Participate

A few Sundays ago, Jesus said to Peter, “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church.” And then Jesus gave Peter the keys to the kingdom of heaven.

Notice that Jesus says, “I will build my Church.”

Christ is the builder. But Peter is called to participate in the building. That's part of what the keys represent: responsibility.

You and I have many keys—keys to our homes, our cars, perhaps our workplaces. Today we also have passwords, PIN numbers and access codes. Some of us probably have dozens we're supposed to keep track of.

Different keys open different things. And when we're given a key, something has been entrusted to us.

Perhaps that's also a way of thinking about our homes.

The Catholic tradition calls the Christian home a domestic church—a little church. God is the one who builds, but we're called to participate in what that home becomes.

So what are we building in our homes?

2. The Altar — Called to Sacrifice

Here in church, we have an altar.

You probably don't have a marble altar in your kitchen. But the altar reminds us of sacrifice. And our homes are places where we're called to sacrifice for one another.

Years ago, a friend of mine who became a doctor described medicine as a calling. He said, “I'm on call. People can call me in the middle of the night.”

That's true. But there's something more to being called.

To be called means that somebody needs us.

The call comes from beyond ourselves.

We may be called to wake up in the middle of the night for a child. We may be called to care for someone who is aging or sick. We may be called to prepare a meal, help somebody with a problem, or simply listen because somebody needs us.

Our kitchen table isn't the altar of the Eucharist. But the sacrificial love we celebrate at this altar is meant to accompany us home.

The altar reminds us: we are called to sacrifice.

3. The Pews — Quiet and Silence

Here in church, we also have pews.

When we sit in a pew, we're reminded that we've entered a place of prayer. We become quiet enough to listen.

And our homes need some silence too.

Certainly we can have entertainment. We might even have a very large television in the living room. There's nothing wrong with that.

But we don't want the entertainment center to become the spiritual center of the home.

Sometimes we need to fast a little from entertainment—to turn things off and make room for silence.

We need silence to listen to God. And when we live with others, we need silence to listen to one another.

Sometimes the longer people live together—in a marriage, a family or a long friendship—the fewer words they need. They can sometimes communicate with a look or simply by being present.

The pew reminds us: make room for quiet, silence and prayer.

4. The Confessional — Contrition and Conversion

And here in church, we also have a confessional.

Of course, we don't have confessionals in our homes, and the home does not replace the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

But perhaps the home is one of the first places where we learn contrition and conversion.

That's where today's Gospel becomes very practical.

Jesus says, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.”

Notice where Jesus begins.

He doesn't say: tell everybody else.

He says: go to the person.

We might remember it this way:

Before we talk about the person, talk to the person.

Certainly there are situations where we need advice or help from others. Even Jesus gives additional steps when the private conversation doesn't resolve the problem.

But whenever possible, the first movement is toward the person.

Why?

Jesus says, “If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.”

5. Winning Back the Person

That's an important kind of winning.

We can win an argument and lose a relationship.

We can prove that we're right and accomplish very little.

Jesus gives us another goal:

not simply to win the argument, but, if possible, to win back the person.

And that requires humility on both sides.

Sometimes I need to say, “You hurt me.”

Sometimes I need enough humility to hear somebody say to me, “You hurt me.”

The home should be a place where we can learn some very important words:

“I was wrong.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Please forgive me.”

And perhaps:

“Can we talk?”

Contrition means recognizing that something needs to change. Conversion means allowing God to lead us toward that change.

6. We Cannot Unlock Another Person's Heart

But notice something else Jesus says:

“If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.”

If he listens.

We aren't in control of another person's response.

We can speak the truth. We can listen. We can apologize. We can forgive. We can pray.

But we cannot unlock another person's heart.

No key in my pocket can do that. No password can do that. And even the right words, spoken with the best intentions, cannot force another person to change.

The love of Christ is a key that can open the human heart. We are called to share that love and cooperate with God's grace.

But ultimately, God does the work.

Sometimes we may do everything we reasonably can to reconcile with someone, and reconciliation doesn't happen—at least not yet.

That doesn't necessarily mean we've failed.

Our responsibility is to use faithfully the keys Christ gives us: sacrifice, prayer, truth, mercy and forgiveness.

We cannot force the lock.

7. Christ Is the Builder

And that brings us back to where we began.

Jesus says, “I will build my Church.”

Christ is the builder.

We participate.

At the altar, we learn sacrifice.

In the pew, we learn quiet, silence and prayer.

Through confession and reconciliation, we learn contrition and conversion.

And we bring those things home with us.

We participate in building homes and relationships in which people can sacrifice for one another, listen to one another, forgive one another, and begin again.

But we don't build the domestic church by ourselves.

We don't convert another person's heart by ourselves.

Christ is already there in the midst of us, building us and working through us.

And so Jesus says:

“Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”

Knowing the Way? (2026-08-30, 22nd Sunday)

[ver_04]  Living Faithfully When We Don't Know the Way

22nd Sunday _Year A   | August 30, 2026 | 

1. A Season of Preparation

This is a season of preparation. It's back-to-school season: buying notebooks, getting schedules organized, getting ready for the end of summer and the return to a more regular routine.

And in one way or another, all of us are preparing for something in our lives.

Recently, my parents got a new Wi-Fi router for their apartment. Their cable company told them they needed to replace the old equipment, and I was supposed to help them.

That stressed me out a little bit. I get nervous with all these devices and cords and cables, so I decided I was going to prepare for every possible outcome.

The day before, I took pictures of all the cables, the front of the equipment, the back of the equipment. I even uploaded the pictures into an artificial-intelligence computer, and it told me which cables we still needed and which cables could be retired.

I wanted to retire—but anyway, some of the cables could be retired.

I thought I had everything lined up perfectly.

The next day, I connected everything and called the cable company. They were very helpful, but things didn't go exactly according to plan. We had to change a few things and reboot everything four or five times.

At the end, my parents said, “You were on the phone with them for 2 hours.”

Actually, it was only 1 hour 56 minutes. But who's counting?

Everything eventually worked. But even though I had prepared carefully, I discovered again something we all discover in life:

We can prepare for the future. But we cannot control the future.

2. Peter Thinks He Knows the Way

And Peter is learning something about that in today's Gospel.

Today's Gospel is really part two of last Sunday's Gospel.

Last Sunday, Peter went "back to school". We might say Jesus was the teacher and the disciples were in the classroom.

Jesus asked them, “Who do people say that I am?” And then he asked the more important question:

“Who do you say that I am?”

Peter gets the answer right:

“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Peter gets the answer right intellectually. But he isn't ready for what that answer means.

Because now Jesus tells his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem, that he will suffer and be put to death, and that he will be raised on the third day.

Peter doesn't want to hear that.

Peter expects the Messiah to be victorious. And we understand that. We want to prepare to win. We don't want to prepare to lose.

Peter has an idea of the road the Messiah is supposed to travel.

And Jesus tells him: That's not the road.

Peter thinks he knows the way.

But Jesus is the one who must show him the way.

3. Preparing Is Good — Controlling Is Different

There is nothing wrong with preparing.

Prudence is a virtue.

We study. We plan for retirement. We take out insurance. We go to the doctor. We take medicine. We fix things before they become emergencies. We even take pictures of every cable before changing a router.

Those are good things to do.

But sometimes preparation can quietly become an illusion of control.

We begin to think: If I prepare enough, if I anticipate every possibility, if I make the right decisions, everything will turn out exactly the way I expect.

Life doesn't work that way.

We can prepare for tomorrow, but we cannot possess tomorrow.

We cannot possess the result.

Our confidence as Christians is not confidence that everything will happen according to our expectations.

Our confidence is in God, who will remain with us even when things do not happen according to our expectations.

4. The Cross Does Not Mean Seeking Suffering

That's important when Jesus tells us today:

“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.”

Jesus is not telling us to go looking for suffering.

Not every difficulty is simply something we are supposed to accept.

There are injustices we should try to correct. There are illnesses we should treat. There are problems we should try to solve.

And suffering does not necessarily mean that something is wrong with us. It certainly does not mean that God is punishing us.

But there are circumstances in life that we cannot simply make disappear.

Sometimes love requires us to accompany somebody who is sick.

Sometimes it means caring for somebody who is getting older.

Sometimes it means remaining present when we cannot fix the situation.

Taking up the Cross means refusing to abandon love simply because love has become costly.

And sometimes following Christ means admitting that we need guidance on the road ahead.

5. “Just Give Us the Miles”

Years ago, I remember driving with some friends through New England. We were driving through Massachusetts and New Hampshire on our way to Maine, and we had already spent quite a bit of time sitting in traffic.

When we got to a toll booth—this was back when there were actually people working in toll booths—we asked the toll collector, “How far is it to Portland?”

And he said, “About an hour and a half.”

As we drove away, one of my friends realized this ANSWER in terms of time was not the answer he wanted. He said: “The number of hours was not what we want to know. Don't tell us how long it's going to take. Just tell us the distance in miles it is. We'll tell you how long it's going to take!”

Because sometimes we're a little bit like that.  Just give me the information. I'll take it from here.

And sometimes we can even approach God that way.

Lord, tell me what's happening. Give me the information. Tell me what I need to know—and then I'll figure out how everything is supposed to work out and the timing and schedule too!

Peter is doing something like that in today's Gospel.

Jesus has told him what lies ahead: Jerusalem, suffering, the Cross—and then Resurrection.

But Peter doesn't like the route.

Peter has already decided how the story of the Messiah is supposed to unfold.

And perhaps sometimes we do the same thing.

6. Faith Asks Us to Follow

We can prepare for the future. We can ask questions. We can gather information. We can make prudent decisions. We can try to anticipate problems before they happen.

All of that is good.

But eventually faith asks something more of us than information.

Faith asks us to follow.

Peter does not have to understand every mile of the road ahead. He has to trust the One who is leading him.

And neither do we.

There will be times when things do not go according to our plans: illness, disappointment, responsibilities we did not expect, people who need our care, situations we cannot fix.

That doesn't mean we stop preparing. It doesn't mean we stop trying to solve problems.

We do what is reasonably ours to do.

But we can prepare for tomorrow without being able to possess tomorrow.

And perhaps that's what Jesus is teaching Peter when he says:

“Take up your cross and follow me.”

Not: Figure out everything that is going to happen.

Not: Control every mile of the journey.

But:

Follow me.

We don't always know the road ahead.

We don't always know how long the journey will take.

But we know the One we are called to follow.

And so perhaps our prayer this week can simply be:

“Lord, I do not know everything that is coming. I do not always know the road ahead. Give me grace for today, courage for tomorrow,

and help me to follow you.”