All posts by : Rich Detrick

Today’s readings for the Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time offer us profound insights into the very heart of our faith. They invite us to a deeper understanding of what it means to love God fully and, as an extension of that love, to love our neighbors as ourselves. These commandments are not merely instructions to follow but are the foundation upon which a life of faith is built.                                                

In the first reading from Deuteronomy, Moses urges the Israelites to observe God’s commandments, with the assurance that obedience will bring blessings of a long and fruitful life in a “land flowing with milk and honey.” This passage is known as the Shema, a prayer central to Jewish worship and identity, proclaiming that “The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.” This declaration not only reaffirms monotheism but also emphasizes a commitment to love the Lord with all one’s heart, soul, and strength. Moses is urging the people to make this love for God the core of their lives, to integrate it into every fiber of their being. This passage reminds us that love for God isn’t simply a feeling or an occasional expression; it is a comprehensive commitment that directs and permeates every action and choice.                                                                

The commandment to love God fully is also complemented by today’s second reading from Hebrews, where we encounter the unique role of Christ as our eternal High Priest. Unlike the Levitical priests, who had to offer sacrifices continually, Jesus’ single, perfect sacrifice on the cross endures forever. Through His sacrifice, Jesus bridges the gap between God and humanity, forever interceding on our behalf. This passage reassures us that our relationship with God is not based on endless human efforts to win divine favor but on the grace-filled action of Jesus, who embodies perfect love. He has made it possible for us to approach God confidently and calls us to model His self-giving love in our lives.

In the Gospel of Mark, we see a scribe approaching Jesus with a question about the greatest commandment. Jesus’ answer is simple yet profound: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength,” and He adds, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” By linking these two commandments, Jesus reveals that love of God and love of neighbor are inseparable. To love God wholeheartedly is to allow His love to flow through us, extending outward to others.                                                       

The scribe’s response, acknowledging that love for God and neighbor is “worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices,” is striking. He recognizes that authentic worship of God isn’t merely about ritual acts but about a heart transformed by love, manifesting in how we treat others. Jesus, seeing the depth of the scribe’s understanding, tells him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” This encounter challenges us to examine our own understanding of faith: Do we see it as a list of duties, or do we recognize it as a call to live out God’s love in every aspect of our lives?                                                                                 

As we reflect on these passages, we may find ourselves asking, “How can I grow in this kind of love?” The answer lies in the daily choices we make. Loving God with our heart, soul, mind, and strength means allowing our love for Him to inform our values, guide our decisions, and transform our attitudes. It’s about prioritizing time with God, seeking His will in our lives, and being attentive to His presence around us. And loving our neighbor as ourselves involves compassion, patience, forgiveness, and service. It’s about choosing to see others through God’s eyes and responding with mercy. These commandments invite us to a radical way of life. They ask us to transcend self-centeredness and to see our lives as part of a larger story—God’s story of love and redemption. In a world often divided by differences and self-interest, these commandments call us to unity and selflessness.                                                                                                   

Today, let us ask God to give us hearts that are open to His transforming love. May we strive to love Him with all that we are and to extend that love to those around us, bringing us closer to His kingdom. And in doing so, we fulfill not only the law but also the very purpose for which we were created: to love and to be loved by God.

Today, as we celebrate the Solemnity of All Saints, we are invited to remember and honor the countless men and women who have walked the path of holiness before us. These are the saints, not only those officially canonized by the Church, but the countless “unknown” saints—the quiet heroes of faith and love. They are our family in faith, our models, and our intercessors.                                                                           

In our first reading from the Book of Revelation, John paints a vivid picture of a great multitude gathered before God’s throne, people from every nation, race, and language, clothed in white robes. These are the saints, having “washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb.” Their white robes signify their purity, their triumph, and their union with Christ, who redeems and sanctifies. And they hold palm branches, symbols of victory and peace, testifying to the battle they endured in life and their ultimate victory through God’s grace.           

This vision of the saints is a vision of hope for us. It reassures us that holiness is not reserved for the extraordinary but is within reach for all who seek God. Holiness is the fruit of a life lived in God’s grace. It may include hardship, as the “time of great distress” suggests, but with Christ, suffering can be transformed into something beautiful, purifying us, just as the saints were purified.                                                            

Our second reading from John’s First Letter beautifully reminds us of who we are at the core of our being: “See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called children of God. Yet so we are.” We are children of God. It’s an identity that speaks of both immense dignity and profound responsibility. This divine adoption is the source of our hope and our vocation to holiness. John further tells us that “what we shall be has not yet been revealed,” suggesting that our journey toward holiness is ongoing, a mystery unfolding. Yet we can live with hope, for we know that one day we “shall be like him,” sharing in the divine life fully, as the saints now do.

In the Gospel, Jesus shares the Beatitudes, which present the blueprint of holiness. The Beatitudes are a portrait of the saintly life, embodying values that transform and purify our hearts. “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” “Blessed are the merciful,” “Blessed are the peacemakers”—these are the qualities that reflect God’s kingdom, values that are often in stark contrast to the world’s priorities. The Beatitudes challenge us to redefine what it means to be blessed and fulfilled. True blessedness, Jesus tells us, lies in humility, in compassion, in pursuing righteousness, in mercy, in purity of heart, and in making peace. Through the saints, we see that these values are not only ideals to admire but a way of life we, too, are called to embrace.                               

The saints, then, are those who lived the Beatitudes fully. Some, like St. Teresa of Calcutta, embraced the poor; others, like St. Francis of Assisi, lived lives of profound humility; and others still, like St. Maximilian Kolbe, practiced heroic love and mercy. Each saint offers us a unique path, yet all their paths converge in one direction—toward Christ.                                                                                                           

Today, as we honor all the saints, we are encouraged to ask ourselves: how might I live the Beatitudes more deeply in my own life? Where can I grow in mercy, in purity of heart, or in peacemaking? The saints inspire us with their example, and they accompany us with their prayers. They show us that holiness is possible for each of us, no matter our circumstances, if we remain faithful to God’s grace.                                       

May this Solemnity of All Saints be a reminder that our ultimate calling is to join that great multitude, to stand before God’s throne one day, clothed in the white robe of a purified heart. Today, we ask for the intercession of all the saints, that we might, like them, live the Beatitudes, embrace our identity as children of God, and continue on our journey toward the fullness of life in Christ.

“You did it to me.” Whenever Jesus heals a physically blind person in the Gospel, it is often ends up revealing the spiritual blindness of others. The physically blind, and the lame were considered by many to be terrible sinners. They thought that their blindness must have been a punishment for their sins. Furthermore, at that time they were considered burdens on society. Jesus turns their thinking upside down. He shows us that every person has dignity for being born sons and daughters of our Father, and for being redeemed by his precious blood. It is a dignity shown in today’s Gospel reading when Jesus hears Bartimaeus calling out to him, and even though the crowd tries to silence Bartimaeus, Jesus calls him, he comes to Jesus and Jesus asks the question he asks each of us today, “What do you want me to do for you?” Our answer will be an important one. As we come to the end of October and Respect Life Month, as we near the eve of another divisive election, I’m afraid many within the Church are being leavened by the world rather than being leaven for the world. Many within the Church are forgetting that if we give up on faith, hope and love, all that will remain is the pre-Christian struggle for power. But this is not our way. We are being spiritually blinded by the lure of political promise and fear. With Bartimaeus, we need to respond, “Master, we want to see. We want to see everything, including every person- especially those we disagree with- as you see them in your eyes. Knowing that our dignity is not something we can earn, it is not something we can discern by the amount of worldly success, or health, or wealth one has. Rather, it is something that is there, simply because you love us. Master, we want to see!” Human dignity is a mystery. But like all of the mysteries of our Catholic faith, it’s not completely incomprehensible. We can still understand much about mystery. And one of the saints who taught us about the mystery of human dignity was Mother Theresa. She often referenced the words of Jesus who said, that whatever we do or fail to do for the least among us, we do it to him. And this became her mantra whenever she was helping society’s outcasts, five little words, “You. Did. It. To. Me”. Years ago, I was assisting at Mass at my former parish and during communion, I was distributing the precious body of our Lord. At one point, I grabbed a host and discovered there were two hosts stuck together. I tried to separate them but with the ciborium in one hand, I wasn’t able to do so, I set them aside and continued distributing. Well, there were a lot of people at Mass that day so before long, I accidentally picked them up again. This time, I spent a little longer trying but they were really stuck and I was afraid they would shatter and I end up all over the place. So, I set them aside again. A little later, I ended up with them in hand again, and this time I said, “You know what Lord? This person is just going to get two.” I distributed, the communicant received, and then turned to go back to her pew. And it was only then that I noticed she was with child. That memory has been the source of much prayer over the years. What I hear the Lord saying in my meditation is that they both need fed. We have to feed them both. Obviously in relation to the question of abortion, but also in every area of life where we are being told we have no choice but to pick sides; mothers and their unborn children, the poor, the immigrant, the prisoner, the political left or right, Orthodox Christianity or Progressive Christianity, and the list goes on. We’re told we have to decide, “either this or that”. We remember that Jesus said, “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” Without a scapegoat to blame all of our problems on and pacify us for a while, division will come. But woe to those who revel in the division for the sake of division itself, they are inspired by a spirit that is not of God. What Jesus revealed about the worst of sinners, even those who crucified him, was that the Father loves them. And if he even loved them, we can no longer justify the mistreatment or neglect of any human being. We can no longer say of the unborn child being destroyed in the womb for profit, “it’s none of my business”. We can no longer say to the desperate mother, “well you got pregnant, you alone are responsible”. We can no longer say to the immigrant seeking a life of safety and security, “you’re not our problem”. We can no longer say the elderly and the infirm living in isolation, “we don’t have time to visit you”. We can no longer say of the political leaders we dislike, “he or she is evil and therefore, we can speak evil upon them”. You. Did. It. To. Me. How many people today, when we consider what Jesus would do in a given situation happily suggest that flipping over tables and driving people out of the Temple is a legitimate option? As if we can read that part of the Gospel in isolation. And forget that Jesus was willing to die for those same people. There are many serious sins being committed today. Invoking Jesus’ name to justify our hatred and violence is one of the most serious. It was so much easier to have scapegoats, to believe we could justify a crime against humanity by claiming it was the will of god or the gods. It was easier to have a scapegoat, we could blame all of our sins on and either drive it out into exile or slaughter it as was done in every society throughout history. But our God, the lamb of God, the scapegoat who ended all scapegoats truly takes away all the sins of the world. And he proclaims that no crime against humanity is in accordance with the Father’s will, that whether done through commission or omission every crime is a crime against him. You. Did. It. To. Me. So how do we establish peace and order? We’re still trying to figure that out aren’t we? It starts with understanding that governments will no longer be able to the convince entire societies to shut their eyes to the human dignity of a person or group of persons that are being mistreated. It starts when we no longer make excuses for injustices toward anyone. It starts when we remember the promise of our God who said, Behold, I will bring my people back, “I will gather them from the ends of the world, with the blind and the lame in their midst, the mothers and those with child; they shall return as an immense throng.” It will start when we refuse to pick sides and when we decide we can feed them both. Lord Jesus, we have been blinded to human dignity. We know that we cannot give what we have not received. We cannot see the infinite dignity of others, until we see it in ourselves. In the celebration of this Holy Eucharist, help us to see ourselves as you see us. Master, we want to see!

In the readings for the Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, we are invited to reflect on the meaning of true greatness and service in the Christian life. These passages present profound truths about sacrifice, suffering, and the servant-leadership modeled by Christ.                                  

The first reading from the Book of Isaiah is part of the “Suffering Servant” passages. Here, we encounter a prophecy that foretells the suffering and ultimate triumph of God’s servant. “The LORD was pleased to crush him in infirmity.” This line may seem harsh, but it reflects God’s mysterious will that the servant’s suffering will bring salvation. The passage points to the reality that it is through the offering of his life, through his suffering, that many will be justified and their sins forgiven.                                                                                                  

This prophecy foreshadows Christ’s own suffering and death on the cross. Jesus is the Suffering Servant par excellence, who bore the weight of our sins, not out of compulsion but as an offering of love. Through his affliction, as Isaiah says, “he shall see the light in fullness of days,” meaning that his suffering will result in the victory of life over death. The reading invites us to see the redemptive value of suffering, not as something pointless, but as a means through which God’s saving plan is accomplished. When we unite our own sufferings with Christ’s, they too can bear fruit for others and for our own spiritual growth.                   

The second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that we have a great high priest in Jesus Christ who understands our weaknesses. He has been tested in every way, yet remained without sin. This makes him the perfect mediator between humanity and God. He is not distant or detached from our struggles; rather, he sympathizes with our human frailty. This is a source of great consolation for us. The author encourages us to approach the “throne of grace” with confidence, trusting that Christ will grant us mercy and help in our time of need.

This reading ties into the Gospel because it emphasizes Christ’s solidarity with us in our trials. As our high priest, Jesus does not use his authority to distance himself from us, but to draw us closer to God. He shows us that true leadership is not about lording over others but about being compassionate and merciful.                                                                                   

In the Gospel of Mark, we witness the disciples James and John asking for seats of honor next to Jesus in his glory. Their request reflects a common misunderstanding of power and authority. They think of Jesus’ kingdom in terms of worldly prestige, but Jesus gently corrects them, saying, “You do not know what you are asking.” He then asks if they are willing to drink the cup that he will drink, referring to the cup of suffering he will endure. James and John, not fully understanding, confidently say they are able. Jesus tells them they will indeed share in his sufferings, but the places of honor they seek are not for him to grant.        

The other disciples become indignant at James and John’s request, likely because they too harbor ambitions of greatness. Jesus takes this moment to teach them a powerful lesson about true greatness in the kingdom of God. He contrasts the way rulers in the world exercise authority, often using power to dominate others, with the kind of leadership he expects from his disciples: “Whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant.” In God’s kingdom, greatness is measured not by power or status, but by humble service.                         

Jesus himself is the ultimate model of this servant-leadership: “The Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” This is the heart of the Gospel message. Jesus’ greatness is revealed in his total self-giving, his willingness to sacrifice his life for the salvation of others.

As followers of Christ, we are called to embrace this same attitude of service. Our natural inclination may be to seek recognition or authority, but Jesus reminds us that true greatness comes through humility, through placing the needs of others before our own. In our daily lives, we are called to serve, not to be served, and to bear witness to the love and mercy of Christ by our actions.                                                       

Let us ask for the grace to follow Jesus’ example of servant-leadership, to drink the cup of sacrifice when it is required of us, and to approach God with confidence, knowing that Christ, our high priest, is always ready to offer us mercy and grace.

Dear brothers and sisters, today’s readings present us with profound insights into the nature of wisdom, the transformative power of God’s word, and the radical call to discipleship that Jesus extends to each of us. As we reflect on these themes, we discover that the pursuit of wisdom and the willingness to follow Christ wholeheartedly are central to inheriting eternal life.                                                                                    

In the first reading from the Book of Wisdom, we encounter a deep appreciation for wisdom that transcends earthly riches. The author of Wisdom proclaims, “I prayed, and prudence was given me; I pleaded, and the spirit of wisdom came to me.” This acknowledgment of wisdom as a divine gift is essential for us today. The speaker recognizes that true wealth lies not in material possessions or worldly power but in the relationship with God that wisdom fosters. “I preferred her to scepter and throne,” he declares, emphasizing that no earthly treasure can compare with the wisdom that comes from above.                                           

In our modern context, we are often inundated with messages that prioritize wealth, status, and comfort. The challenge is to recognize that these pursuits, while enticing, can lead us away from what is truly valuable. Wisdom, as described in this passage, helps us discern the difference between fleeting pleasures and lasting joy. It invites us to consider what we value most in our lives and to seek wisdom that leads us closer to God.                                                                                          

The second reading from Hebrews reinforces the importance of God’s word in our lives. The writer states, “Indeed the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword.” Here, we are reminded that God’s word is not just a collection of ancient texts; it is a living reality that penetrates our hearts and minds, revealing our innermost thoughts and intentions. It calls us to accountability, urging us to align our lives with God’s will.

As we reflect on our lives, we must ask ourselves: Are we allowing the word of God to shape our choices and actions? Are we open to the transformative power of Scripture, allowing it to cut through the distractions of our lives and reveal our true selves? Embracing God’s word is essential for growing in wisdom and understanding.                      

In the Gospel, we encounter a rich young man who approaches Jesus with a sincere question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” His question is one that resonates with many of us, as we seek meaning and purpose in our lives. Jesus, knowing the man’s heart, responds by listing the commandments, to which the young man confidently replies that he has observed them all from his youth.                                            

However, Jesus sees deeper into the man’s life and challenges him to let go of his possessions: “Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor.” This command is not merely about the act of giving; it is a radical call to discipleship that requires the young man to confront his attachment to wealth. Unfortunately, the man walks away sad because he had “many possessions.”                                                                      

Jesus’ subsequent teaching reveals a profound truth about wealth and the kingdom of God: “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” This statement astonishes the disciples, and they question who can be saved if the wealthy find it so difficult. Jesus reassures them, saying, “For human beings it is impossible, but not for God. All things are possible for God.”                                                                  

In these moments, we see that the call to follow Jesus often requires a willingness to let go of our attachments—be they to wealth, status, or security—in order to embrace a life of faith and service. Jesus’ promise to those who sacrifice for his sake is both comforting and challenging: “There is no one who has given up… for my sake and for the sake of the gospel who will not receive a hundred times more.”

As we gather today, let us reflect on what it means to seek wisdom and to heed the call of Christ. Are we prepared to prioritize our relationship with God above all else? Are we willing to let go of the things that hold us back from fully following Him? May we strive to embody the wisdom that leads to eternal life, trusting in God’s promise that all things are possible for those who believe. Let us pray for the courage to choose wisely and to follow Christ with our whole hearts. 

In the readings for the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, we are invited to reflect on the sanctity and purpose of marriage, as well as the call to childlike faith. Each of the readings brings out a distinct yet interconnected dimension of God’s design for human relationships and communion.                                                    

In the first reading from Genesis, we hear the story of God’s creation of woman and the institution of marriage. God sees that it is not good for man to be alone and creates a suitable partner for him. This narrative emphasizes the fundamental truth that human beings are created for relationship and companionship. Man is not complete in isolation; he finds his fulfillment in communion with another.               

When God presents the woman to the man, Adam’s response is profound: “This one, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.” The creation of woman from man’s rib symbolizes the deep unity and equality between man and woman. They share a common origin, and thus, in marriage, they become “one flesh.” The unity of man and woman in marriage is not just a physical union, but a spiritual and emotional one, reflecting God’s own nature as a communion of love. Marriage is meant to be an intimate partnership of life and love, where husband and wife help each other grow in holiness and faithfulness.    

In the Gospel, the Pharisees approach Jesus to test Him with a question about divorce. They ask whether it is lawful for a man to divorce his wife. In response, Jesus acknowledges that Moses permitted divorce because of the “hardness of hearts,” but He points them back to God’s original intention for marriage as expressed in Genesis. Jesus teaches that from the beginning, God made them male and female, and in marriage, they become one flesh. “Therefore what God has joined together, no human being must separate.”                                      

Jesus’ words challenge the culture of His time, and indeed, they challenge our contemporary society as well. The permanence and indissolubility of marriage are often questioned, and divorce has become a common recourse. Yet, Jesus reaffirms that marriage is a covenant—a sacred bond that mirrors God’s unwavering love and faithfulness. The marital relationship is meant to reflect the love between Christ and His Church, a love that is self-giving, sacrificial, and enduring. By upholding the sanctity of marriage, Jesus calls married couples to commit to a love that perseveres through challenges and difficulties, a love that is rooted in God’s grace and strength.                                                                                          

The second part of the Gospel offers another powerful image: Jesus’ embrace of children. The disciples, perhaps thinking that Jesus had more important matters to attend to, rebuke the people who were bringing children to Him. But Jesus, “indignant” at their attitude, says, “Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” What is it about children that makes them models of discipleship? It is their openness, their simplicity, and their trust. Children depend entirely on others and approach the world with a sense of wonder and awe. In the same way, we are called to approach God with humility and trust, recognizing our complete dependence on His love and mercy.         

By placing these two themes—marriage and childlike faith—side by side, the Gospel reminds us that authentic love requires both commitment and humility. Just as children trust and rely on their parents, so must spouses rely on God and on each other to sustain and nurture their relationship. Marriage, like faith, calls for a spirit of selflessness and vulnerability. It calls for a heart that is open to giving and receiving love, a heart that is willing to forgive and reconcile.                   

The second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews further deepens this message. It speaks of Jesus, who “for a little while” was made “lower than the angels” and who tasted death for everyone. Christ’s suffering and death were acts of supreme love and self-gift. He emptied Himself, becoming one with us in our humanity so that we might share in His divine glory. In marriage, spouses are called to a similar self-emptying love—a love that reflects the self-giving love of Christ.                                              

As we reflect on these readings, let us pray for all married couples, that they may be strengthened in their commitment to each other and to God. May they find in Christ the grace to live out their vocation with faithfulness, joy, and perseverance. And may all of us, whether married or single, learn to approach God with childlike hearts, trusting in His love and relying on His grace to guide us through the journey of life. 

On this Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, the readings invite us to reflect on the stark contrast between human selfishness and divine humility, between the desire for greatness and the call to servanthood.                                                                                    

In the first reading from the Book of Wisdom, we hear the voice of the wicked plotting against the just one, someone who challenges their corrupt ways. They mock the just one’s faith in God, questioning if God will truly protect him in the face of suffering. This foreshadows Christ, the ultimate “Just One,” who would face condemnation, suffering, and death. Jesus’ own life is a witness to this prophecy—He was reviled, tortured, and killed. But in His resurrection, He proved the truth of God’s power and vindication. This reading also reminds us that living righteously often brings opposition, yet we are called to trust in God’s justice, even when it is unseen.                                                                                            

In the second reading, St. James offers a direct teaching on the root of human conflict: jealousy, selfish ambition, and disorder. These inner desires lead to division, both within ourselves and among others. James contrasts this with the wisdom from above, which is pure, peaceable, and full of mercy. We are challenged to look at our own hearts—are we driven by ambition, or by the desire for peace? Do we cultivate humility and gentleness, or do we give in to the passions that wage war within us? Only by embracing God’s wisdom can we bear the fruit of righteousness and peace in our lives.                                                                               

Finally, in the Gospel, we see the disciples caught up in a very human argument: who among them is the greatest? Jesus, knowing their hearts, teaches them a profound lesson. True greatness, He says, is found not in power or status but in humility and service. To illustrate this, He places a child in their midst. In the ancient world, children were considered the least significant members of society, but Jesus embraces the child and says that receiving one such as this is to receive Him—and, ultimately, to receive God. In this gesture, Jesus turns worldly values upside down. To follow Him is to serve the least, to embrace humility, and to put others before ourselves.           

As Christians, we are called to live in this upside-down Kingdom of God, where the last are first and the greatest are those who serve. Let us examine our hearts today and ask for the grace to let go of selfish ambition and to embrace the way of humility, trusting in God’s justice and wisdom. By doing so, we follow the example of Christ, who became the servant of all, and in His service, found true greatness. 

Today’s readings invite us to reflect deeply on the nature of discipleship and what it truly means to follow Christ. They challenge us to consider how our faith is lived out in our daily lives and confront us with the reality that genuine faith cannot exist without works. At the heart of these readings, we find the call to self-denial, sacrifice, and the embracing of suffering for the sake of the Gospel.                            

The first reading from Isaiah is one of the Servant Songs, portraying the suffering servant who willingly endures pain, humiliation, and rejection. “I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting.” This figure of the suffering servant foreshadows Christ, who would suffer for the sake of our redemption. Yet, in the midst of this suffering, there is no despair. The servant sets his face “like flint,” firm and resolute, because he knows that the Lord God is his help, and he shall not be put to shame. This passage teaches us that in our trials and tribulations, we, too, must hold fast to the faith that God is with us, giving us strength, even when we face adversity.                

In the second reading from the letter of James, we are reminded that faith is not just a matter of belief but must be demonstrated through action. James asks pointedly, “What good is it if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him?” He provides a stark example: If we see someone in need and offer them only words of comfort without meeting their physical needs, what good is that? James challenges us to a faith that is alive and active—a faith that sees the suffering of others and responds with compassion and concrete help. This passage calls us to examine our own lives and consider how we live out our faith. Are we merely speaking words of faith, or are we actively living it by our deeds?       

The Gospel reading from Mark brings these themes together and brings them into sharp focus. Jesus asks His disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” and then more personally, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter responds, “You are the Christ.” This confession of faith is significant, yet, when Jesus begins to teach about His coming suffering, death, and resurrection, Peter rebukes Him. Peter cannot accept that the Messiah would suffer and die. In response, Jesus rebukes Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”                                                        

Jesus’ words are a powerful reminder that discipleship is not about following our own ideas of what it means to be a follower of Christ. It is not about seeking power, comfort, or avoiding suffering. Rather, it is about embracing the way of the cross. Jesus makes it clear: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” To follow Jesus means to let go of our attachments, our desires for comfort and security, and to trust God’s plan for our lives, even when it involves suffering.                                    

The cross is central to our faith. It is a symbol of suffering and sacrifice but also of hope and redemption. Jesus teaches that in losing our lives for His sake and for the sake of the Gospel, we will find true life. It is a paradox, but one that speaks to the very heart of Christian discipleship: true life is found not in self-preservation but in self-giving, not in comfort but in courageous love, even when it leads to the cross.                                                                               

Today’s readings invite us to embrace this paradox of the cross. They call us to a faith that is more than words or pious thoughts but one that is lived out in actions of love and service. As we meditate on these readings, let us ask ourselves: How is God calling me to take up my cross today? In what ways is He inviting me to serve others, to give of myself, to stand firm in my faith, even in the face of suffering or difficulty?                                                                                        

May we, like the suffering servant in Isaiah, set our faces like flint, confident in the help of the Lord. May our faith be demonstrated through our works, and may we follow Christ courageously, knowing that in losing our lives for His sake, we will find true and eternal life. Amen.