23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Twenty-second Sunday in O.T– August 30, 2026 Readings: Jer. 20:7–9 • Romans 12:1–2 • Matt. 16:21–27 Discipleship in the Lord. Dcn. Bill Kenney “You ‘duped’ me, O Lord” is Jeremiah’s cry when he realizes the cost of discipleship as a prophet of the Lord. He was duped into a way of life that he thought he understood. But as he followed God he discovered more and more that what he got himself into was not what he expected. He was laughed at, mocked, and persecuted by hostile crowds of unbelievers, yet the Spirit of the Lord gave him the power to persevere. Have we been duped? Our modern-day costs of discipleship in Christ involves the exact same spiritual surrender as with Jeremiah, but manifests itself differently in our daily lives. Within our secular world and workplaces, we may face ridicule, exclusion, or “canceling” for holding to biblical morals- such as being pro-life. We choose worship, service, and prayer over hobbies, sports, and entertainment. We tithe and give to mission charities in sacrifice and devotion instead of squandering our surplus wealth. Discipleship has its costs and, as we hear in the Gospel, the Son of Man will repay us at his coming for being his righteous disciples. Like Jeremiah, the Christian way of life is not about having it all figured out either. Discipleship is about being on a journey with Jesus and not knowing where we are going. Discipleship is about wrestling with God and trusting his providence for our life; to accompany him on a twisting, sometimes smooth, sometimes rocky journey of faith. To be a true disciple of Jesus requires, as is implied in the word, discipline. We must be disciplined in our complete surrender, self-giving sacrifice, and transformation in our relationship with Christ. St. Paul reinforces this discipline in our second reading to the Romans when he writes, ”… offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship.” We surrender to Christ our ego, our self-centeredness, and sinful tendencies. In all humility, we surrender and live our lives knowing he is God and we are not. We surrender our time and energies to strive to be one with Christ. As practicing Catholic disciples, we worship at Mass, never missing weekly Mass and Holy Days of Obligation, except for good reason. We participate as one family in the prayers, hymns, and liturgy of the Mass, culminating in our reception of the Holy Eucharist. We surrender our shortcomings through the regular reception of the sacrament of reconciliation to rekindle our relationship in Christ. We make sacrifices as disciples, sacrificing our bodies, minds, and hearts to be united with that of Christ’s, even when it is inconvenient, uncomfortable, and not popular with others. Like orange juice for dinner, prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are not just for Lent anymore. We sacrifice our time as a gift and blessing to those who need our care. Take the time to make a call, card, or visit, especially to our elderly, sick, and homebound. How can acts of sacrifice help us to grow in solidarity with our needy brothers and sisters among us? In the timeless words of St Paul, he goes on to say, “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and pleasing and perfect.” Amid the societal noise and confusion of our present day, these words ring true more than ever. As disciples we are called to discern the will of God and be transformed, undergo metanoia, even daily, from the snares of evil around us; to hope and see the goodness and truth in God’s creation- most especially in each other. In emulating our Blessed Mother, we say “yes” to Jesus in the way we love and care for our children and parents. We say “yes” upon seeing Jesus in the needy stranger before us, lending him a compassionate and helping hand. These are qualities of a true disciple of Christ. In our Gospel reading from Mathew, Jesus’ plan for his passion, death, and resurrection is criticized by St. Peter. Last week he was called Peter, “the Rock”, a solid foundation of discipleship to lead the Church. Today he is called “Satan” and an “obstacle” or stumbling block to God’s will. Once again, the Apostles prove to be a type of our own understanding and practice of discipleship. We know to love God and neighbor and can be pretty solid in that respect, but at times, due to our sin, we, like Peter, fail God by “… thinking [and doing] not as God does, but as human beings do.” Our hope for true discipleship lies in the mercy, justice, and love God has for each one of us. We become Christian disciples, not from our own will or merit, but as a gift of adoption through the Holy Spirit at baptism. How can we grow in our reliance on God’s justice and mercy? “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” This is true discipleship: to forsake our sinfulness, to follow our Lord Jesus and trust in his Word and his ways, for our salvation and for the glory of God.

God gives us so much. God gives us life --- a beautiful mystery we spend a lifetime unpacking. And God sustains us throughout our lives. He heals us when we need healing --- although not always in the way we want him to. He brings people into our lives for us to love and be loved by. He forgives us when we have strayed, when we have sinned. He picks us up when we have fallen, and guides us when we get lost, and dries our tears when sorrow grips us. And God gave us an incredible home --- the earth --- a blue and green oasis in a vast darkness. God also gave us a gift so profound it is hard for us to wrap our minds around --- his very self in the person of Jesus --- one who would show us the way and BE the WAY --- carrying our sins and reconciling us to the Father in a way that would have been impossible for us. Yes, God gives us so much . . . . . . . and he owes us nothing. For many of us, this aspect of God --- his utter graciousness --- is hard to understand or maybe even hard to accept. And the reason is somewhat simple. Many of us at times don’t act that way. We see everything as a kind of transaction. We loan money to someone and then expect them to do the same when we ask them for the same favor. We cut a neighbor’s lawn and wait for the time when they will “have” to cut ours. We send cards to people who sent cards to us, pick up other people’s children because they picked up ours. We buy someone a dinner in a restaurant and then don’t reach for our wallet or purse the next time we’re out with that person. Yes, so often we go through life continually thinking about who we owe, and more importantly, who owes us. But God doesn’t work that way. Paul, as we heard in the Second Reading from his Letter to the Romans, puts it this way. “Or who has given the Lord anything that he may be repaid?” Yet, sometimes we might wish that was not so, right? Wouldn’t it be nice if we could simply do “good” things (as if we were making a deposit in a bank), only to be able to go back later and make a withdrawal --- that is, “force” God to give us what we want, return good for the good we have done? Wouldn’t that be great? I’m not so sure. After all, wouldn’t that mean that God would withhold his love if we hadn’t done a good “job” of loving him? Do we really want that? (And doesn’t that seem kind of juvenile?) Rather, we believe in a God whose love is never owed to us for the good we have done (no matter how good our actions were), and conversely (and thankfully), believe in a God whose love is so great that it could NEVER be forfeited should we mess up disastrously, even when we fail to love God time after time after time. Put simply --- God loves us when we do good, and he loves us when we do bad. And nothing can change that because God is Love. And when you think about it, that’s pretty incredible --- for we can count on God’s blessings in the good times and in the bad, during our successes and during our failures, when we disobey and when we follow his will to the letter, when we love others and when we don’t. God simply loves us anyway. And he gives from that love (that is, pours out from his very being) every single thing we need --- continuously. And so we can take comfort in knowing that our God will always give his forgiveness, compassion, mercy and guidance. That’s just who God is. But he also gives us something else, something we might not exactly want, something we’d probably rather be given to someone else. He gives us a responsibility, a mission, a calling, a set of keys. “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.” Much has been made from these words. In fact, it has been used time and time again to support the Church’s understanding of Church leadership --- in particular, has informed how we have come to understand the role of the Bishop of Rome, the Pope. And because of this understanding (through faith) we (the Catholic faithful) entrust a lot to Church leaders --- trust them to guide us, teach us, inspire us, shepherd us, unify us and, at times, even admonish us. They were given the keys. Yet, the work that has been entrusted to them is not theirs alone. WE share in that work, that mission because we are all Church. They are not the only ones who teach the faith. WE teach others every time we act and every time we speak. They are not the only ones guiding the faithful. WE guide others every time we give someone else advice or suggestions or counsel. They are not the only ones who are called to inspire the faithful. WE are called to help others embrace their spiritual path, help others fall in love with Jesus and want to imitate him. And they are not the only ones charged with keeping the faithful united in His Church. WE are called to constantly look for and foster the good in one another, the things we all have in common, the dignity in which each of us was created. I guess you could say that there are more than one set of keys. What will we do with them? Will we see our responsibilities to carry out Jesus’ mission (and by extension, the Church’s) as a good thing, a blessing, a gift? Or will this be a blessing that (sadly) gets discarded, ignored? The choice is ours. So let’s take the keys of discipleship and open for others a life of great meaning and beauty and joy. God may not owe us anything, but it seems like we should owe him that much.

Our God was grateful. That’s a strange way to start out a homily, isn’t it? Yet, when you think about it, isn’t that what we appear to be celebrating today? After all, we gather on this Holy Day to celebrate Mary’s Assumption --- a unique gift God gave to her --- in that her body was kept from being subjected to the effects of the grave. Something about it would not have seemed right, not have seemed appropriate for someone who accepted the role she accepted in God’s plan. God, it appears, was grateful --- grateful for her “yes”, her courage, her faithfulness, her witness. I know what some of you are probably thinking. It seems kind of “wrong” to talk about God in this way, doesn’t it? And you know what? You’re right. God isn’t some sort of collection of feelings and emotions and traits we use for ourselves. God just IS. He doesn’t “think” like we do. He doesn’t “change his mind” like we do. He doesn’t “feel” like we do. He just IS. Yet, if we are to talk about God at all --- words are all we have --- OUR words, things we can relate to OUR own human experiences. There aren’t other options. And so, while we understand the limitations of trying to talk about God, we try to do so anyway --- as best we can. And, well, today seems to be a day to celebrate our God who seems to be grateful, seems to be giving a kind of “thank you” to the Mother of the Savior, the Mother of the Church. Yet, in the relationship between God and Mary, it is not God who is solely grateful. Mary was too. And the fact that she was is remarkable. Her “yes” almost guaranteed her a life of great uncertainty --- a pregnancy in which Joseph (her betrothed) took no part, a son who she knew was one-of-a-kind, a future that from the start was unclear, and an ending to her son’s story (that was unknown to her at the time) that she could never have predicted. Put simply --- she said “yes” but had no idea what that “yes” would ultimately mean. Yet she too was grateful. She didn’t have to be --- but she was, telling Elizabeth, “my spirit rejoices in God my Savior for he has looked with favor upon his lowly servant.” Imagine that. She might have initially hoped that someone else would have been asked, but once she knew it was what God wanted she no longer resisted God’s will. She embraced it. Was grateful for it. Rejoiced in it. And God was grateful. And he gave her a kind of thank you of the highest order. Can we do the same? After all, the things we see in Mary are things we are (in faith) encouraged to see IN ourselves and FOR ourselves. Can we live lives infused with gratitude --- lives in which we are grateful for whatever path God has set before us? Can we be grateful for the easy things in life AND the difficult things, the uncertain things, the challenging things? Can we just try to be the best person we can be TODAY, simply try to say “yes” to God in whatever ways we can --- without knowing where those “yeses” might lead? If so, then we can be assured (in faith) of our eternal reward, a life of great beauty and meaning from this moment on into eternity --- a life in God alongside Mary and all the saints. And while our lives will not live up to the life Mary led (given her singular role in Salvation History) they can be lives of sincere gratitude as Mary’s was. And you know what? We might just find that our God is grateful for us too. And there may be no greater gift than that. Mary, Queen of Heaven, pray for us. 

If you know anything about the history of science you might remember that at the end of the nineteenth century many in the scientific community felt that science had basically attained a level of knowledge and understanding that was nearly complete. This was especially true for physics --- specifically, how matter “works” --- that is, how it is structured and how it interacts with other matter. In the minds of many scholars Isaac Newton had given the world a nearly complete picture that would never be disproven. Any subsequent developments would simply be a “tweaking” of his theories --- theories that didn’t just describe the heavens, but which some thought had actually come down from them. This was until scientists began to look at the very, very small. And that changed everything. We call this branch of physics quantum mechanics --- the science of what takes place at the atomic level. Now, I’m certainly not going to go into detail. But let’s just say, when scientists started exploring what was taking place inside of an atom, they were shocked. The theories of Isaac Newton no longer seemed to apply (or were woefully incomplete). A different set of rules seemed to be at play. The behavior of the electron (a negatively charged particle outside of the nucleus) was particularly confusing. What they found (in essence) was that they couldn’t ever predict where any given electron would be (its position) or what its momentum was. All they had were probabilities. (In fact, the closer they got to measuring the one, the less they knew about the other.) Up until the point of trying to measure an electron’s position (as close as quantum mechanics would allow) any particular electron could only be considered to be “everywhere” or “nowhere” (whichever you prefer). This uncertainty has sort of befuddled scientists ever since. Everywhere or nowhere. We like things to be predictable, don’t we? For example, we like being able to know that a particular action will yield a particular outcome. Or that a certain degree will get us a specific job. Or that enough practice will get us a spot on the team. Or that the money we save will grow over the years into the nest egg we hope for. Or that the right clothes or haircut or car or cologne or body type will get us the girlfriend or boyfriend we desire. Does God fall into that category? Is God one of those things we want to be predictable? If so, we’re going to be disappointed. Today’s First Reading (from the First Book of Kings) and Gospel passage (from Matthew) each show God being somewhere unpredictable, coming to people in ways they didn’t expect. Elijah encounters God in a tiny whispering sound, and the disciples encounter Jesus walking toward them across rough seas. Neither was within their scope of what was possible. For Elijah --- encountering God in a heavy wind, or earthquake, or fire would have made more sense. But in near silence? That was new. And for the disciples, well, they thought they were seeing things, or maybe seeing some sort of spirit. But their friend? Walking on water? During a storm? That too was new. Completely new. Maybe God isn’t where we imagine him to be? This sort of “uncertainty” in knowing where to “find” God can be troubling. You see, if we only expect to encounter God on our terms --- for example, only in “religious” activities such as prayer or worship, or only in our happiest moments, or only in people we think are holy or virtuous --- we might come to the distressful conclusion that God is sort of absent, that encounters with God are a rarity, that God is (in a sense) nowhere. And that’s a pretty awful way to have to go through life --- wondering if God cares, wondering if he’s even paying attention, wondering if he’s far away. But maybe, just maybe it’s all in the “looking”, in the “observing”. Maybe gazing on people and situations with a different lens, with a different set of expectations, will erase some of the unsettling uncertainty that surrounds our faith lives at times. Maybe it takes expecting God to be where we least expect him to be that will open up an entire new way of experiencing life, a new way of experiencing all the routine, day-to-day ups and downs that come our way. And this is where the physics analogy breaks down. You see, for the scientist studying electrons, both categories regarding the position of either “everywhere” or “nowhere” start to disappear once they begin trying to make their observation, once they begin taking the proper look. But for people of faith, the “looking”, the “observing” (in the right way) doesn’t make both those terms meaningless. Rather, only one of the terms disappears, one no longer applies. And one comes into focus. You see, when we look at the world through the lens of faith, through eyes of hope and possibility, through eyes waiting for and expecting to be surprised, we will land squarely on one term, come to only one conclusion. God is everywhere. Believing that, and more importantly, living in the light of that truth, changes absolutely everything. For when we approach each day, each situation, each person, expecting to encounter God, we will never be disappointed. In fact, we might just be amazed at how present God is. He’s in the whisper and the storm. Our God is predictably unpredictable, and with us always.

Most people love pizza. The options for the type of crust and kind of toppings are numerous. With so many variations it is difficult to get tired of pizza, and we often want another slice and another and another. All sorts of things are kind of like this. Some of us do this with boyfriends and girlfriends. If one is good, three or four must be better, right? Some of us do this with degrees and certificates --- and not always for the education or improved salary potential --- but just so we can say we have them. Some of us treat activities this way --- filling our free days and calendars with endless (and mostly optional) things --- treating quiet, unscheduled time as proof that we’re somehow not living life to the fullest if we are not going a million different directions all of the time. Some of us do it with friends --- accumulating dozens of acquaintances, but sometimes not even one true, lifelong, friend. And of course, some of us do it with material things --- all kings of gadgets and gizmos. It seems when it comes to certain earthly things in life we sometimes never seem to have enough. Are we ever satisfied and content? All three readings today point to the same deep truth --- that, in the end, the only one who truly can satisfy us in the way we need to be satisfied, the only one who can provide for us, the only one we can truly “count on” (in the fullest sense of those words) is God. If we’re thirsty, we’re told to “come to the water” --- and our thirst will be quenched. If we have no money --- it doesn’t matter --- we will be fed anyway. If it seems we don’t have enough to nourish us, God will take what looks like a little and make it more than enough. God is the only one we can count on to be there for us in a complete, faithful, unconditional way. The things of this world simply can’t provide the things that ultimately matter. Not material things. Not money. Not fame or status. Not even other humans. Ultimately, what we’re talking about is God’s love --- a love made manifest in every good thing --- from the food we eat, to the planet we live on, to the forgiveness he extends to us, to the Church that unites us, to the friends and family and even strangers who encourage us. Paul, in his Letter to the Romans asks what might be the most important question we can ask (and gives the answer that has the power to change everything). He asks, “What will separate us from the love of Christ?” And his answer --- the conclusion he comes to --- is . . . . nothing. Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. Not the worst thing. Not the best thing. Not the past. Not the future. Not any creature (including any person). That’s how powerful God’s love is --- so much so that it is the only thing that can truly satisfy the things in us that need to be satisfied or filled or healed or transformed. It is our loving God who is the Great Provider, Protector, Comforter, and Forgiver. Believing in that kind of love, believing in that profound truth, and embracing it in a full way, is what we mean by taking a “leap of faith”. It’s not just asking the question whether or not we believe there is a God (no matter how important that question is). It’s wrestling with the question, “If I believe in God --- exactly what kind of God do I believe in?” And I don’t just mean what kind of God I SAY I believe in. I mean --- Who do I believe God to be in the deepest recesses of my heart, in my very soul, in my very being? Is that a God who truly satisfies, truly provides, truly loves? That’s who our faith teaches our God is. That’s the God of Sacred Scripture. That’s the God of two thousand years of prayerful contemplation by the Christian community. And most importantly, that’s the God revealed to us perfectly through the person of Jesus --- through his teachings, stories, and a lifetime of actions bringing about every good thing we need for eternity. This is the God we are called to believe in by taking a bold and brave “leap of faith.” Stepping out into the unknown and embracing a God whose existence will never be empirically proved to us, a God we will never know and understand completely, a God whose will is often shrouded in mystery, a God who sees the complete picture --- a picture we will never get to fully gaze on. Is that enough? Will that satisfy us? Maybe --- if we believe it deeply enough. But one thing is for sure --- if we put our trust, time and energy just in the things of this world, we most certainly will continue to grasp over and over at things that ultimately can’t provide for us in the ways that we ultimately need. And that’s an endless merry-go-round we need to step off of. May the Eucharist satisfy our restless hearts! 

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time – July 26, 2026 Readings: 1 Kings 3:5, 7–12 •Mat. 13:44–52. Wisdom in discovering the Kingdom in the sacraments. Dcn. Bill Kenney Have you ever prayed for God to grant you something, to make something happen in our life only to find, in retrospect of not receiving it, how thankful we are for God knowing what we need better than we do? Out of great love for us, God answers all our prayers but only in his reasoning, way, and timing that is best for us. In our first reading from Kings, Solomon prays for “an understanding heart”, or wisdom, and expresses genuine humility in doing so. A pretty wise request even before receiving God’s gift of wisdom! God is pleased to grant him his humble request. Ask yourself the question posed to Solomon: What would you ask God to give you? Do you petition the Lord, like Solomon, to know Right from Wrong, Truth from Lies, Good from Evil to guide our lives and that of others? Do we pray for the strength to love and serve the Lord and our brother and sisters?, to do God’s will? Or do we ask to win the LOTTO or have material wealth or a long life? God was pleased not to hear these self-gratifications from Solomon. No, a true gift from God will be given out of love for you, for your salvation and for his glory, period. What can God give to you? In our Gospel reading from St. Matthew, Jesus explains the privilege, joy, and value we should have for being heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven- like finding a great treasure or a fine pearl. He also describes the Kingdom of Heaven as a great net that captures all believers and non-believers, sorting them at the end of the age. With the treasure and the pearl, we are called to seek-out, sacrifice, and forsake all things for the glory of the Kingdom of Heaven. The net of fish is our judgement: we are either a “keeper” or a “discarded” fish as to how well we sought out and sacrificed for the Kingdom. Pray and strive to be a “keeper” fish. What are the treasures and pearls of great price that you have discovered in your life? How do you make them the forefront of your life’s ambitions and joys? We cherish the pearls of our faith through the sacraments and witnessing the Gospel. We treasure our family bound in love. We value our friends in their trustworthiness and like-mindedness. What are your pearls? Pope St. Paul the Sixth said, “… through the sacraments we receive in increasing measure the treasures of the divine life and advance toward the perfection of charity.” The discovered buried treasure and fine pearl are like the sacraments conferred upon us, perfecting our divine life and charity for others. Like Solomon, we can wisely ask for these sacraments, these treasures and pearls of our faith, to bring others closer to Christ, such as through the OCIA Program. Consider bringing someone to the Catholic faith. Each one of us is a pearl of infinite value to God so much so that he sent his only-begotten Son to lead a human life and lose that life for us. Jesus came to renew the old, to make all things new, and as our risen Lord he continues to work in our lives renewing us in mind, heart, and spirit so that we may find and cherish the greatest treasures, the fine pearls of life, leading us to him. In praise of our Lord: · May we be ever watchful for the treasures and pearls God puts before us to guide our lives. · May we be as humble and wise as Solomon to cherish them and bring God’s good will to others. · And may we, through the sacraments, especially the Holy Eucharist, witness the Kingdom of Heaven to others for our salvation and for the glory of God.

“Come to me, all you who are labored and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Life can make us tired. And not just “kind of” tired. It can actually be exhausting at times. Even those of you who don’t feel overburdened right now can certainly remember a time when you did. So many things on our calendars. So many unexpected things that arise and have to be taken care of. Important decisions that have to be made. Worries that seem to never go away (financial, spiritual, and otherwise). Family stuff. Church stuff. Personal stuff. So many people wanting a piece of our time. It just seems endless. And “being tired” seems to be non-negotiable. It’s just an ever-present reality. “Come to me, all you who are labored and burdened, and I will give you rest.” I hear Jesus say these words and I’m not sure what to think. After all, I’d like to think that I love Jesus. I’d like to think that I’m trying to be a faithful follower of Jesus. I’d like to think that Jesus is my top priority. I’d like to think that I’ve been united with him in baptism and have been united with him through the Eucharist (and other Sacraments). That I have been united with him in prayer and through Scared Scripture and acts of charity and all sorts of things. If that’s not “coming to him” than I don’t know what is. So if I’m doing all of those things, why doesn’t my “tiredness” go away? One of the great “lies” we tell ourselves when it comes to faith is that, if we just believe, life will all of a sudden become relatively easy. Our problems will go away. God will protect us from unexpected tragedies. God won’t let anything bad happen to us. Our marriage will survive. We’ll never be estranged from our kids or other family members. We’ll never face financial difficulty. Our friends won’t betray us and we’ll overcome our addictions. Yet, those things happen all the time --- to believers and non-believers, to the most faithful and the least faithful, to the saint and the sinner. And so, maybe the “rest” Jesus promises is not related to those things at all (or at least very little). Maybe it’s a rest from other types of things. Shouldn’t we be tired of all the mean-spiritedness we see these days? Well, Jesus can do something about that --- helping us refrain from joining in to all the name-calling, insults, and harmful rhetoric --- if we want him to. Shouldn’t we be tired of the proverbial rat-race so many of us are engaged in, the constant pursuit of more and more and more? Jesus can do something about that --- helping us recognize that many things we think are “needs” are actually just “wants”, and don’t need to possess us --- if we want him to. Shouldn’t we want a rest from, all the judging and prejudice and hate? Well, Jesus can do something about that --- helping us see the goodness and dignity and worth of every single person. Shouldn’t we be tired of all the cynicism and pessimism and negativity? Well, Jesus can do something about that --- helping us find hope and promise and possibility in every single situation. In other words --- shouldn’t we be tired of all the ways we try to act for any other reason other than love? Well, Jesus can do something about that --- helping us purify our motives so that our lives look more and more like the One to whom we have (in theory) given ours. “Come to me, all you who are labored and burdened, and I will give you rest.” That’s really the promise --- that Jesus will give us rest --- not always from general life issues, but from being tired of being the same person we were yesterday, tired of being less than he knows we can be. It is this joining of ourselves to Jesus, this “yoke” that keeps us moving in the right direction, going where he goes, acting as he acts, being who he calls us to be. And the incredible things is, if we do this, and if we sincerely desire to become the person he wants us to be, we might just find that all the other stuff wearing us down might not be quite as exhausting. And that’s because we won’t be facing our challenges alone. Jesus will be walking with us and making sure we keep moving in the right direction with the right priorities. It is in the embracing of this sort of faithfulness that we will come to realize how a life lived in imitation of Jesus, intimately united with Jesus, is more important, meaningful, and life-giving than anything else. God gives rest, the more our hearts rest in Him.

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time – June 28, 2026 Readings: 2 Kgs 4:8–11, 14–16a • Mt 10:37–42 Disciples of hospitality Dcn. Bill Kenney Our First Reading from 2 Kings speaks of a couples’ hospitality afforded to the prophet Elisha. They provided accommodations for his periodic, random stays- sort of a Motel 6, “we’ll leave the lights on for you” hospitality. If one is hospitable, then one “makes room.”, even if that room is up on the roof. In ancient times, and especially now, with those in urban homeless encampments, being exposed to the elements or to possible robbers and murderers was and is a matter of life and death. Consider the story of the Good Samaritan who helped a man who was robbed and beaten then given shelter and care or even the story of Christ’s nativity- there was no room for them in the Inn. Even the hospitality of a lowly manger was appreciated. The barren couple is rewarded with a son, the Good Samaritan is rewarded in sanctity, and we are all rewarded with the birth of our Savior. Hospitality and rewards- both can be fulfilled in many different ways if given and received within the heart of a disciple of Christ. Our role as disciples in Christ is further characterized in our Gospel reading from Matthew. Jesus explains the worthiness of a true disciple we are called to be- whoever loves father or mother, son or daughter more than me; whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Strong commands for sure! Of course, Jesus wants us to love our neighbor as ourselves and honor our parents, but we must know the priorities. From earlier in Matthew, "But seek first the kingdom [of God] and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.” This means prioritizing God’s will, grace, and virtues above worldly materialism and temporal anxieties. By first centering your life on Christ, you trust that He will provide for or reward you with your spiritual and physical needs. His is a call to put God at the center of your daily choices, including your vocation, relationships, and moral decisions, rather than centering your life on wealth or earthly security. The Corporal Works of Mercy could also be called the Corporal Works of Hospitality. The elderly couple provided shelter for the homeless prophet. Their hospitality foreshadows the message that Our Lord gives in today’s Gospel. Speaking to the Apostles, Jesus is preparing them for their Apostolic mission. He reminds His chosen band that “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me, receives the One who sent me.” Receiving or giving welfare, charity, or hospitality to God, a prophet, and a righteous man, indeed, our very neighbor, will receive a reward in God’s time, chosen way, and grace. Here, our Lord gives us a greater sense of what it truly is that binds us together as a people of God. Certainly, there is never a moment in our lives when we are not called to love our neighbor, regardless of whether our neighbor loves us or not. The ideal form of love is to take action for the well-being of our neighbor precisely because he is united to us as a child of God, made in the image of God. We belong to the same household, the household of our Heavenly Father. In the given reality of our lives, it might be difficult to be completely hospitable to those around us. The world in which we live is one in which it feels that dangers lurk on every side, or, at least, one in which we have to keep our guards up. And while there is certainly a need to maintain a healthy attentiveness to the virtue of prudence in all we do, we cannot fail to live out the virtue of charity, the true mark of the Christian. Who needs my loving care? What practical assistance can I offer to those in need? Are there others whose crosses I can help to carry? So, what then is our “reward” for our hospitality? Rather than seeking recognition or reward from others, we Catholic disciples are called to give discreetly. The reward is left to God, not man. “Do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing… and your Father who sees in secret will repay you.” The Eucharist we receive here today is truly a reward beyond our worthiness as disciples of Christ. It is only by his Word that our souls are healed. Let us, then, strive to continue to support one another as we, individually and as a Church, aim to make room and give a cup of water to those of our household, and beyond, as disciples in Christ. For we receive them in our hospitality for their well-being and for the glory of God.

“Jesus said to the Twelve: ‘Fear no one.’” Most of us fear many, many things. I don’t have to tell you that. It seems sort of inescapable. And fear comes in many forms. We fear various people at times: bullies on the playground and neighbors who do suspicious things and spouses who have bad tempers and bosses who seem to fire people without any warning. We fear situations of all kinds: the test we didn’t study enough for and job interviews and first dates and medical test results and speaking in public and boarding an airplane and maybe even our wedding day. We fear the unknown: the illness we’re worried might come out of nowhere / and whether we will find a great spouse or go through life alone / and the random dorm roommate we’re being assigned in college and the family that has just moved in next door and the bill for our visit to the emergency room and whether the stock market will go up or down. Some of us even fear God --- not in a healthy “My life is in your hands” kind of way, but in a “You’re getting ready to pounce on me” kind of way. And the biggie that we sometimes refuse to think about: death. That one always seems to be lurking somewhere in the back of our minds. Yes, we fear all sorts of things --- both people and situations (real or imagined). Then why did Jesus spend so much time telling people (and by extension, us) to not be afraid? Is it really in our control? Can we “force” ourselves to not have any fear? I’m really not sure that’s possible. And if that’s true, then Jesus almost certainly would have known that. So maybe the complete absence of fear isn’t necessarily the goal. Maybe Jesus is simply trying to make a more essential point, a more profound point. In the passage we just heard from Matthew he goes on to say, “So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” In other words, Jesus wanted his disciples (and wants us) to always be mindful of God’s incredible love for us. And because we’re talking about God, the consequences that flow from that truth are incredible difference-makers. No one or nothing is as powerful as God --- who loves us dearly. No one is in our corner, has our backs, is on our side more than God --- who loves us dearly. No one can do what God can do --- who loves us dearly. No one can give our lives meaning in the way that God can --- who loves us dearly. No one understands more than God, or can show compassion as completely as God, or forgive as deeply as God, or can save us (in the only way that ultimately matters) more than God --- who loves us dearly. Put simply --- we’re not dependent on a God who cares little. Rather, we’re completely dependent on a God who can do everything and anything AND who loves us completely and for all time. And Jesus seems to be saying that, when we believe that we are unbelievably precious in God’s eyes, our fears will begin to recede, diminish, weaken, maybe even go away altogether. They won’t get the best of us, won’t win. Jesus knew that life would be tough for his disciples. Much would be demanded of them. (In some cases their very lives.) And some of the prophets suffered greatly. We heard Jeremiah speaking boldly in today’s First Reading --- despite often being attacked and threatened for the things he said. At one point he almost lost his life. Was he afraid? Probably. But it didn’t stop him. Was Moses afraid marching off to Egypt with staff in hand to demand that Pharaoh release the Hebrew slaves? Probably. But it didn’t stop him. Were missionaries afraid heading off to unknown lands without knowing what might happen to them? Probably. But it didn’t stop them. Were the men who stormed Normandy or firefighters who found themselves running into burning buildings or people who marched in Selma or the guy who stood in front of the tank in Tiananmen Square or doctors who cared for patients with the Ebola virus afraid? Probably. But it didn’t stop them. Even many couples have some fear as they make their wedding vows. But you know what? They make their promises anyway. Fear may be a given in some situations. But it doesn’t have to get the final say. And so, when the Lord Jesus says, “Fear no one,” or “Be not afraid,” we shouldn’t think of them as commands that demand our obedience --- as if having fear is some sort of sign of a lack of faith. Rather, these statements from Jesus are kind of like sacred invitations, holy encouragements --- loving pleas from our God to help us never forget what we mean to him --- that is, never forget that nothing IN this world matters more than the ONE who CREATED this world, nothing IN this world can force us from the path to the ONE who laid down his life and BECAME the path, nothing IN this world can completely strip us of the peace that comes from the One who IS peace. And so, let’s pray for the grace to not let our fears get in the way of us becoming the beautiful people God created us to be, not let our fears paralyze us, not let our fears overwhelm us and dim the light within us. Instead, let’s keep God’s great love and care for us in the forefronts of our minds, allowing us to continue doing the things God asks of us --- giving when we have little, forgiving when the fault is great, and loving even when we don’t feel like it. It is this sort of faithful living in the face of our fears (and not the absence of them) in which true holiness takes root, blossoms, and changes both ourselves and the world around us. And no number of sparrows is worth more than that.