The truth is, love is sometimes wonderfully charged with light and life, but it also often requires us to confront wrongdoing and injustice, to be patient and forgiving, and to work for peace and reconciliation.
How do we encounter God in the midst of the trials and storms of our lives? Our readings help us reflect upon God’s presence with us in difficult times.
We live in an age and a society that has never been more educated or had a higher standard of living, yet never have we carried as much debt. Many are living beyond their means. We have so many resources and time-saving devices at our hands, yet our lives are more complex than ever.
The key to unlocking the scriptures is in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians as we pray, “May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened.” People see and hear things but simply have a hard time believing they are true.
Throughout the Easter season, we hear the story of the earliest Christian communities in readings from the Acts of the Apostles. We hear how the people grappled with what it meant to place their faith and trust in the Lord, understanding that doing so called them to live differently—to follow Jesus’ way of love.
Be honest with yourself. Have you ever gone astray? Have you ever given in to temptation or weakness? Do you sometimes feel that you need someone to help you get your life on back on track? Most people could answer yes to any of these questions. As people of faith, we know that Jesus understands the struggles we face and gave his life to save us from our human frailty.
The journey to Emmaus is one of the most beloved stories about Jesus, and yet the town is probably “mythical” in the truest sense. Like so much of life, this story is about the journey, not the destination. Running away from Jerusalem and their fears, probably going home in disillusionment, two of Jesus’ disciples encounter a stranger on the road who, like a rabbi, is able to help them understand their experiences using his deep knowledge of scripture.
Poor Thomas. Singled out from among the disciples because he refused to believe what they were telling him—that they had seen, in the flesh, their friend and their Lord, Jesus Christ. Can any of us really blame him?
The journey of Lent brings us to an encounter with the cross. During Lent, we have been led more deeply into questions at the heart of our faith: Who is God? And who are we, the Church?
On March 24, 2020, Archbishop Jose Gomez, in consultation with the Auxiliary Bishops and the Council of Priests, has established the following revised guidelines for all Archdiocese of Los Angeles Churches to be followed immediately. These decisions were not taken lightly, but with serious consideration of the public, parishioners, priests and staff health and safety. It is made in observances of policies established by our civil authorities ensuring the good of all people.
In today’s Gospel describing Jesus’ transfiguration, we hear of the disciples’ vision of Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Peter, perhaps understandably, responds by trying to enshrine the moment by building tents for them. However, God interrupts and speaks words identical to those spoken at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” But here God adds, “listen to him.”
Today’s readings draw us into ageless, vibrant depths. Followers of God’s law, we belong to ancient traditions. Children of God, we marvel at the freshness of creation. The Old Testament readings, from Sirach and the Psalms, celebrate the rich blessings we receive when we observe God’s commands—not because we are slaves to the law, but because the law gives life in abundance. Saint Paul’s Letter to the Corinthians confirms the glory of divine law, but warns that God’s ways tend to be unpopular and misunderstood in this world. Paul speaks of the ancient wisdom of God, which is mysteriously both “hidden” and “revealed.” God does not have secret codes that we earthly mortals cannot understand; in love, God reveals the glory of the divine way in Jesus. Saint Matthew’s Gospel emphasizes the importance of living in God’s law, enlivened by a deep and personal relationship with Jesus.
The prophet Isaiah inspires us with these words: “Light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday.” All of us celebrating the liturgy today praise God for these words of encouragement. Surely each of us knows the gloomy side of life, but today’s readings propose a brilliant antidote to misery: the light of service. Isaiah focuses on physical suffering, telling us to provide food, clothing, housing, and equal opportunity to those with limited resources. Moving beyond material needs, Saint Paul demonstrates how to proceed humbly when attending to people’s spiritual needs. Saint Matthew’s Gospel stirs us to bold action: whatever gifts we have, we must put them at the service of our communities. As Christians, we must engage with one another without holding back, letting our light shine before all.
This Sunday's feast is both magnificent and mysterious: magnificent because the very first contemporaries of Jesus begin to recognize him as Christ, the anointed Savior of the world; mysterious, because this King is still a child, an obscure boy obedient to his earthly parents. The prophet Malachi—living and dying before the coming of Christ—points toward the arrival of the Messiah and encourages God’s people to prepare themselves by living generous, holy lives. The Letter to the Hebrews— written after Jesus’ ministry, death, and resurrection—renews the prophetic call to holiness, reminding us that the Lord will always help us: “Because he himself was tested through what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.” The Gospel reading overflows with examples of joyful men and women living God’s call to holiness. Mary, Joseph, Simeon, and Anna show us, in their own ways, how to love Christ.
In today's Gospel, we see Jesus's reaction to the news that his cousin John has been arrested: he goes into seclusion back at home in Galilee, maybe for one last visit home with Mary, and then begins gathering the band of followers who will become his apostles.
When we say the words of the Agnus Dei, or Lamb of God, during Mass, we are directly quoting John the Baptist. The scene is set on the banks of the Jordan River. John has been gathering disciples by powerfully calling for repentance in light of the coming kingdom of God. One day, as he sees Jesus, he cries out, "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world!"