1st Sunday of Advent

Link to today's readings
Jeremiah 33:14-16 + Psalm 25: 4-5, 8-9, 10, 14 + 1 Thessalonians 3:12-4:2 + Luke 21:25-28, 34-36

Click here to listen to today's homily
Delivered at Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Mustang, Oklahoma

During this Advent season we find ourselves in an in-between time. Between the coming of the infant Savior born in Bethlehem and the Son of Man returning in glory to judge all creation. Between those lullabies away in a manger and the storm of the day of the returning Lord.

Advent therefore causes us to look back, to look back and to see how God fulfills God’s promises — how God is always faithful to what God says God will do. Promising to the prophet and through the prophet Jeremiah that He would raise up a “Just Shoot” for Israel and so He does in the Lord Our Justice, the Savior of the World. Looking forward into the future, knowing that the God who is faithful will remain so in the days and years ahead. And so, looking forward with hope, hope-filled hearts, knowing that history itself is not meaningless. Our lives are not meaningless, that rather, we are all heading somewhere toward and ultimate goal, toward this end point who is Jesus, the Christ, the King of Glory and King of the Universe.

So, filled with trust, overflowing with hope, how can we not be an Advent people who live in joy, expectant joy, knowing that the Lord who has come and who will come, continues to come? In fact, we are an Advent people always because the Lord continues to come to us.

The question is: Do we welcome Him as He comes? What prevents us from opening the door of our hearts and our lives to receiving Him today?

The Jesus in Luke describes twin threats to receiving Him as He comes. Carousing and drunkenness? I look at this crowd and say you probably wouldn’t be here this morning if you were under that threat. Maybe too many Christmas parties in the days ahead, but not that threat. But the second threat: The anxieties of daily life. Anxieties that are birthed in the womb of fear, anxieties that cause us to focus solely on today, to protecting what is ours, to hunkering down in our bunkers. In fact, it seems at times that our world runs on the fuel of fear. And that we tend to, therefore, run around and run around in circles trying to anxiously hold on to what we have and always fearful that it will be taken from us.

This kind of fear flows from a lie. It is no accident we call the Evil One “The Father of Lies” and the lie that he wants us to believe: This is all there is. This is all there is. What we can see and touch – that’s all there is. And so, when we lose our possessions or some of the stuff we have, fear paralyses our hearts. When we lose our health in thinking “This is all there is”, fear closes out the joy that should be the mark of our days. 

We can in fact become like trees weighed down with ice. You know, trees as trees are meant to be, they reach to the Heavens. They stretch to the Infinite. Rooted in the earth, they are made to reach to God. The same for us, but when we are bowed down by the frozen nature of our fears, it is hard to stand erect and to reach toward the One who has made us not for fear but to live rooted in joy and to recognize the truth that Jesus comes to proclaim: This is not all there is. There is something much, much more than what we can see and touch.

And so it is every year on the first Sunday of Advent, the Church focuses us on the end time, on the eternal call of God to dwell with Him in glory for all eternity. To recognize, yes, what we do on this earth counts and we will all stand before the Son of Man to be judged on how we have lived, but this is not all there is! That even if we lose it all, even if we lose these frail, fragile lives of ours, whatever we place in God’s hands, that we will possess forever. It is never lost to us. And thus, we can be people of joy even when fear weighs us down, even when we are tempted to embrace fear instead of the trust that God has made us to live from, instead of the very fountain of hope that we are called to drink from.

The challenge therefore for us also is to help others who are bowed down by fear, who are stooped over because of the daily anxieties that weigh them down, to help them to stand erect, to raise up their heads and to see the One coming to them to set them free by the warmth of God’s love and light, the One who comes to them in and through us, the living Body of Christ. We do this in a very special way as Jeremiah reminds us of that title he gives to the Savior by working for justice. He calls the Savior “The Lord of Justice” — that where we see something that has gone awry, we make it right; where something is wrong, we make it right. Where human dignity is bowed down by injustice, we break those bonds and lift people up so that they may see, and only see, the God-given dignity of every human person.

Minoru Yasui understood this truth. Minoru lived during a time of great fear, after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in the early 1940’s in our country. Minoru was a Japanese-American, who lived in the northwest, a bright young man, a lawyer by trade who believed in the founding principles of this country – liberty and equality and justice for all. And so, when a law was passed, a curfew was demanded of all Japanese-Americans — “be in your homes by a certain time” — He said, “This is not right, this is not just. And so, he broke the law. He broke the curfew. He even went to the local police station and said, “Here I am breaking the law, put me away.” Because he wanted to bring to the courts, to the court’s attention, the injustice of such a fear-filled law. And so, as he was put in solitary confinement, Mr. Yasui held on to the hope that his case would prevail. As he spent months upon months all alone in his little cell, he was fueled by this hope that somehow the principles of this country would be lived out by its people. And even when his case failed before the Supreme Court, and he was sent away with other Japanese-Americans to those internment camps on the West Coast, he never gave up his hope that as Americans we would live by what we say we believe — liberty and justice for all.

For his tireless work, for his hope that sustained him to work for the dignity of those who were so discriminated against, this past week he was given the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest recognition any civilian can receive in our land. And he reminds us, as do all people who lift up others who are bowed down, that indeed, working for justice in whatever way we do so, working to make right what has gone wrong, requires this kind of hopefulness, this kind of courage, knowing that that kind of work is the work really of the Lord, Our Justice. The Lord who comes and who continues to come in order to bring God’s justice to the world, in order that all people, especially those who are bowed down by injustice, may be lifted up, may stand erect, raise their heads and know that they, too, have a God-given dignity that no one and no thing can take away.

So, as we move forward on our Advent journey, which really is the journey of our lives, as we pray to the Lord to reveal to us more clearly the fears which dominate our hearts, as we prepare for His coming to us in surprising and mysterious ways during these sacred days, we do so in a spirit of love that fuels our work for justice. Because as Saint Paul said to the community at Thessalonica, and he says to us today, the way forward: Increase and abound in love, day by day, increase and abound in love. And it is basically what our Pope challenges us to do as well. By reaching out to see and touch those that the world has forgotten, and to lift them up, to lift them up by the warmth of the Coming One’s love that surges through us to them, that strengthens them to stand erect in their God-given dignity, to lift their burdens so that they no longer are weighed down. That they might know, as we do, this incredible joy that comes from knowing the Lord who keeps coming to us, as we welcome Him, and as we touch Him broken in the bodies of those around us, with love. We hasten the day of his return, we quicken His coming in glory.

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Link to today's readings

Daniel 12:1-3 + Psalm 16:5, 8, 9-10, 11 + Hebrews 10:11-14, 18 + Mark 13:24-32

Click here to listen to today's homily

Delivered at Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Mustang, Oklahoma

When listening to Mark’s Gospel, you must always remember the people to whom this life-giving Word of God was first addressed. Mark writes for the Christian community in Rome in the 1^st Century during a time of great persecution, during a reign of terror. Because of the violent persecution of the Christians in Rome, they feel like the world as they know it is coming to an end. The day seems to be as dark as night. The stars no longer seem to shine in the sky. The Emperor Nero and his soldiers make sport of the Christians in the Coliseum. They become food for the lions to the blood-thirsty cries of the crowd.

During this darkest of times for Christians in and around Rome, Mark shares the Good News of Jesus Christ, reminding them of the centrality of the Cross. For those who would question, “Why is this happening?” the Evangelist, through the words of Christ, would remind his community: They are asking the wrong question. The real question goes much deeper — “What does it mean? What does it mean?” And the suffering and dying of Jesus, the Son of God, sheds light, gives an answer that brings meaning to a time of seeming meaninglessness.

Because in His love for the world the Son of God gives His life completely on the Cross so that the Cross no longer becomes an instrument of terror, but a sign of hope; because death does not have the last word, life does, as the darkness of the Cross gives way to the never-ending day of the Resurrection. And so Jesus teaches His followers: Only in losing one’s life does one find it, only in giving it away does one receive it back more full than ever before.

The question also those first Christians had to answer, and every Christian community since that time who walked through dark days:  “Who are we going to become? Who are we going to become because of this suffering, this trial, this terror, this seeming darkness?”,  which again is why the Cross is at the very center of Mark’s Gospel. We’ve heard it during this year of Mark: Chapter 8, Chapter 9, and Chapter 10—three predictions of the Passion, the dying of Christ and His Resurrection. Three times those very first disciples, Peter, James, John, the rest—they struggle to understand, they wrestle to comprehend what this means, what the mystery of the Cross means. And Jesus continues to patiently teach them and us that it’s only in following Him along the Way of the Cross, this suffering, self-giving love, that we become something more, that our lives become something more. For the temptation whenever the world seems to be crumbling around us, whenever we think what was certain as sunlight or starlight has vanished from sight, the temptation is to become a people swallowed up by fear and in this darkness to go even deeper into a more profound darkness of violence and despair.

The words of Jesus, spoken first to Peter, James, John, Andrew and the rest, and to those first Christians in Rome suffering and dying, and to all Christians since, the words of Jesus give us strength today to become something more than we ever thought we could be, so that we do not give up this Pearl of Great Price—hope itself—and give in to despair. So that we do not lose the hidden treasure of faith and give in fear, so that we do not give in to fear so that we will not abandon the way of love to walk in the never-ending darkness of hatred.

Because those first Christians persevered in faith, hope and love, even though the world was anew, it seemed to be coming to an end. A new world was born, so that 2,000 years later on the very ground on which they spilled their blood, Popes have walked the Way of the Cross during Holy Week as the way of life, so that the very city that tried to swallow them alive is now the headquarters to the largest Christian church in the world, over 1 billion strong.

We can relate to the Christians in Rome who first heard this word of the Lord passed on to them by the Evangelist Mark. Since the dawn of the millennium fifteen years ago and the promise of a whole new world, what we have experienced instead at times is the darkness of terror and everything we thought to be solid, to no longer be so. From 9/11 on our own American soil to the terrible evil perpetrated in Paris this past Friday, we have lived through some very dark days. In Paris, the City of Light, many people now feel like darkness has enveloped them. They fear to go out to eat at their favorite restaurant, or to their stadiums to cheer on their favorite soccer team, or even just to go to a concert and delight in the sheer pleasure of music. The City of Light now seems to be swallowed by the power of darkness. But that is what the enemy wants us to believe: The temptation that the Great Tempter of humankind wants us to fall into, the temptation to believe that the powers of evil have won the day is great.

Even in our own land, where senseless violence at times seems to make no place safe—workplace or home or even churches. But it is not only terror and violence out there that shakes our world, that tempts us to despair—it is also in our own personal lives whenever the darkness of loss overshadows our day. Not just the loss of someone deeply loved to death, but whenever we lose our job, our very life’s work that we enjoy, or a person close to us whom we have loved for many years betrays our trust, or when a parent strong and sure for many years loses all their strength or even their ability to recognize us anymore. At those times, we can feel like we walk in never-ending night, that we have lost our way and everything which was now solid seems to be as shifting as sand. Everything that was once certain, now shot through with uncertainty.

Yes, we can relate to those first disciples at the center of Mark’s Gospel, that first Christian community in Rome as well, and Christians of all ages who have struggled with the darkness of suffering and sorrow and wonder how the Good News of the Gospel sheds light on all of that. That is why week after week after week, we come here to remember, to remember, to remember a whole new world has already begun with the Resurrection of Christ—the world as we know it and all its troubles truly passing away. The powers of this world destroyed forever by the power of the Resurrection of the Lord. In fact, on that Good Friday when sun went dark at noon, those powers ended and the day a tomb broke open and the Risen Jesus appeared with a life that no one could ever take from Him again, a new age was born.

This one who is the living Word of God, the Word of God in flesh, reminds us that all that we think has passed away is really in God’s hands, and all those who thought that He had passed away forever from their lives, to know that He lives forever and by the power of the Spirit, He walks at our side every day, encouraging us and enlightening us in times of darkness and the temptation to despair, because He knows in the depths of His bones, fully human like us, what it means to feel like one’s life is enveloped by darkness. Even the deepest darkness of all, to feel like one has been abandoned by God. Why else the words from the Cross, in Mark’s Gospel, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”

He who was sustained by the life-giving words of God, who perhaps prayed this very Psalm that sustains us today in our worship, trusting that His Father would indeed show Him the path to life even though in the midst of suffering and dying, struggling to find the way; to trust that somehow the Father would provide fullness of joy in His presence to His faithful ones—a joy that could never, ever be taken away. And in doing so to delight forever at the right hand of the Father, for He is there in glory. And He summons us there to be with Him, not only interceding for us every day when our world seems to crumble around us, but drawing us to Himself by the power of His love and reminding us that there is always more than what we can see in front of us, that by the light of faith, knowing that He walks with us, drawing us every day more into a more abundant life, a more profound peace, and a deeper joy—for He is the Living Word who will never pass away.

Father Joseph Jacobi

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Link to today's readings

1 Kings 17:10-16 + Psalm 146:7, 8-9, 9-10 + Hebrews 9:24-28, 18 + Mark 12:38-44

Click here to listen to today's homily

Delivered at Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Mustang, Oklahoma

Last Sunday on the Solemnity of All Saints, I talked about how the saints encourage us by their example of life. They show us that it is possible to love God with all that we are and to love our neighbor as our self. Now because of the Solemnity of All Saints, we did not have the usual reading from Mark’s Gospel last Sunday, but if we would have, it was that famous reading about the scribe asking Jesus which is the most important Commandment. And you know His response, it is actually two that go together: To love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself.

In today’s Gospel passage, we see someone who fulfills those Commandments of love, who gives herself fully—fully to God and on behalf of others. And in fact, she would have gone unnoticed that day in the Temple except Jesus sees her. Everybody else is focusing on the wealthy folks and their fine clothes and their big sums of money that come up and deposit those in the Temple treasury. No one sees this widow except Jesus and He points her out to His disciples. And as He does so, He says that her gift is greater than all the rest because she is not giving something from her surplus, she is giving really the gift of herself to God, the gift of herself to God.

Often, this story is called “The Widow’s Mite” reflecting the smallness of her gift, but I think it should be renamed “The Widow’s Might”, because she who had no power in her society, had incredible power to influence others by this sacrifice of love. In fact, she, I believe, is a source of encouragement to Jesus as He goes forward to the Cross. Because in the context of Mark’s Gospel, this is the last time Jesus will be in the Temple. He is in Jerusalem, a few days away from offering His life completely to God. And seeing how this widow does this so freely and generously, I am sure it was able to spur him on to take that very challenging step of giving Himself completely to God on the Cross, on our behalf and out of love of neighbor as well. She is a source of encouragement to Him. She has that power to influence others by her gift.

There are these kinds of generous gifts going on all around us if we but have eyes of faith to see them. People are giving not of their surplus, but giving really gifts that symbolize the gift of themselves completely to God and in service and love of their neighbor. My first week here at [Holy Spirit] back in January 2014, I remember opening my mail in my office and there was an envelope from a family at St. Eugene’s that I knew fairly well. The parents, the two parents, working six days a week at a low-paying job, making great sacrifices so that their children could obtain a Catholic education. And as I opened the envelope, a note fell out with a $10 check saying “Father, please put this in your new church building fund.” I was taken aback, I mean, they don’t have that to give but they gave it. And then it came the next month, and the next month, and every month since—an incredible gift of generosity from this family who is not even connected to us but through Christ and through His sacrificial love.

Or I think about the recent celebration of Oktoberfest when for the first time we threw open the doors of our parish and welcomed others from outside our community to come and to celebrate with us in order to raise money for our new church fund and it was about something much more than just raising money. I remember when the committee told me earlier this year that they were planning for 500 people. I didn’t tell them this but the thought passed my mind, “This is the first year: I think 500 might be a little high.” But you know, 500 showed up that night. Even though there were some kinks the first time around that will be worked out next year, those who came had a great time, a great time, and there was much joy and celebration that night, and people from other parishes and even people who weren’t Catholic were here to enjoy the generosity of our hospitality. And there were those who worked alongside each other: newcomers and people who have been here a long time, you know, Hispanics and Anglos and Asian and African-Americans, all with one goal: Just to give themselves fully to this important project on behalf of the Church but ultimately for the Glory of God. And I remember one “couple of advanced wisdom”—another way for saying they are a little older than most of us—who here until midnight helping to clean up after that celebration—such generosity, such generosity.

Or, I think about the recent project of enclosing our pavilion, making it into a new classroom building. Such commitment on behalf of the leadership team and vision to really direct that project. And the core group of people who were here on most Saturdays, giving of themselves, more than just nails and building a physical building, but really building up a community of faith. Hearing Spanish being spoken next to English as Christians worked side-by-side, on a project together, encouraging each other. And there was even one unlikely source of encouragement to all of us who persevered in that project. It came from a teenager who was here practically every Saturday for four months, usually the first one here and the last one to go in the afternoon, and he came during the week as well. He just poured his heart and soul into the project. For him it was more than building a building, it was just an expression of love for God and love for his neighbors here in our parish. That kind of sacrificial giving was a real inspiration to others who came to give of themselves to the project as well.

I think of our new candidates and catechumens here who become before us this day to enter into a whole-hearted commitment to become one with us in our Catholic faith and who reveal to us something we often forget: We have such an abundance in our church, blessings through the sacraments and the saints, and our moral teaching, and just all the riches of our faith that we often take for granted but that others have to point out to us by their offering of themselves, saying that they want to be part of this living Body of Christ.

There are all sorts of signs of generosity and sacrificial love all around us if we but put on the eyes of Jesus and see as He sees all these incredible acts of the “Widow’s Mite”. I think of couples who are by each other’s side in good and difficult times, times of sickness and health, times when things are going really well and times when it is very challenging, who are faithful and true, and continue to pour out their lives for each other. I think of parents who give so much to their children and even on those days when they don’t find their children likable, they still love them, they still give themselves to their children, they still make those daily sacrifices of love that enable their children to know that they are loved. Or, adult children who are caring for their aging parents, parents who sometimes have lost their mind, who can no longer remember what is going on or perhaps have lost their physical capability to even move or go anywhere on their own—adult children there by their side, walking with them, supporting them, strengthening them, loving them. Or, friends who care for friends in times of great loss, sorrow, for those in this parish who have reached out to welcome others who perhaps have been away or just coming for the first time.

There are all sorts of people giving of themselves in love to others who are actually encouraging others to do the same. And all of this gift-giving, all this generosity, all this sacrificial love really flows from one gift that we celebrate every time we come to this altar of praise. It is the gift of the life of the Son of God who holds nothing back, who gives Himself fully and freely to us. And who simply yet powerfully says, “This is My Body given for you, this is My Blood poured out for you.” So that we might have the strength, the energy, the courage to do the same, to say to others “This is my body, my life that’s broken open for you” and find that there’s so much more of ourselves to give away. “This is My Blood, My Very Life that I pour out for you” and to discover there is so much more to share. And slowly but surely we discover the truth that all widows of faith know: That with God, the jar of flour, it never goes empty – the jug of oil, it will never go dry.

Father Joseph Jacobi

Solemnity of All Saints

Link to today's readings

Revelations 4:2-4, 9-14 + Psalm 24 1BC-2, 3-4AB, 5-6 + 1 John 3:1-3 + Matthew 5:1-12A

Click here to listen to today's homily

Delivered at Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Mustang, Oklahoma

By the marvelous power of God’s love we have been made into Children of God. Who are we right now? Beloved Children of our Heavenly Father. Baptism makes this truth clear, it makes it an indelible reality in our lives. God, the Father of All Creation, has claimed us as His own beloved sons and daughters. In those water of baptism, we are forever joined to the beloved Child of God, Jesus himself. He reveals to us what our beloved Father is like by teaching us to pray “Abba!” (“Father!”) Yes, remarkable as it may seem, we are to understand our relationship with the God who has created the universe out of nothing, who has power and might beyond belief, we are to relate to this God as a child does in tenderness to his “Papa”, to his “Daddy”, whatever term of tenderness a child may use for his or her father who they know will provide them whatever they need.

And then, by the gift of the Holy Spirit poured into our lives as love and baptism, the very love of God, we have been strengthened to live out of this identity as Children of God. It is by this gift of the Spirit that we can cry out “Abba!” (“Father!”) and, as Jesus does, trust that in God, His Father, all things will be provided to us, all good things will be provided to us.

So our Heavenly Father rejoices whenever we turn to Him with whatever need we have, no matter how big nor how small. It is something like this: My dad is a carpenter. I grew up not having much interest in carpentry, very active in sports in school, extracurricular activities. I never really learned much about making things or fixing things. But, any time I needed something fixed or needed help with making something I would go to my Daddy, my father. And he would drop what he was doing, and he would help me, joyful, excited to do so. It is just a small smidgen of what God’s love for us as father is like: Always ready, always ready to respond to His children’s needs. But we so quickly forget who we are: Beloved children of God.

The key to sanctity, the key to growth in holiness, and the saints teach us this: To grow into our identity as God’s Beloved Children and to recognize everything we have comes from the hand of God.

So, the Father claims us as His own Beloved Children. He sends us His Beloved Son, Jesus, to teach us how to live as a Child of God and they gift us with their life-giving Spirit as divine energy to live in this way. The Divine Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – does everything to make our way home to God easy. The Tempter wants to tempt us to believe that it is very difficult, that sanctity – holiness of life – it’s impossible. But the Trinity, out of love for us, makes it easy and always gives us more and more to lead us on our journey home. In fact, with God, there is always more – more joy, more peace, more love. It is the very nature of God to keep giving gifts. And today, we celebrate some of the greatest gifts of God – those men and women of every age and race and background who are with God, who we believe and know are with God and enjoying right now the fullness of life and glory – the saints of God, human like us in all things, who struggled in life as we do with trusting in God’s goodness, and somehow lived out of their identity as beloved Children of God and were able to grow in love of God and of their neighbor in all things.

And they want to help us. They want to help us to be where they are. And so, they assist us at every moment with their prayers. And they delight when we turn to them, as our brother or sister on this earth, that’s when we turn to them and ask for their help in prayer. And so, when we are looking for a parking place, and there is not one single space in sight, we pray, “Mother Cabrini, Mother Cabrini, find me a space for my little machiney.” It works! I was just at OU Medical Center this past week, needing to see someone quickly, not a space in sight, turned to Mother Cabrini and immediately the car right in front of me pulls out, so thank you. Or perhaps one more common to many Catholics who lose their keys or other things: “Tony, Tony, come around. Something’s lost, gotta be found.” Saint Anthony, always there to aid us in our time of need. Or, perhaps, in more serious times, a saint for impossible causes, a saint I know from working with the Latino people of our land who are far from home, who face such challenging situations, Saint Jude. To turn to Jude and to ask him in the face of something seemingly impossible for the help of God.

All the saints go before our God on behalf of us, praying that we might know God’s love and God’s help, and they assist us with their prayers on our journey home to Heaven. So, their prayers give us strength and the example of their life gives us courage. Their lives encourage us that the life of holiness is possible for they were sinners, broken and weak, just like us. But they understood that in their simpleness, in their brokenness, in their weakness, they could always turn to God, who would make them whole, who would strengthen them, and who would aid them in their time of need. And they show us, these holy men and women of God, how to live out the blueprint of holiness which is the Beatitudes. In fact, that first Beatitude, “Blessed are the poor in spirit theirs is the Kingdom of God”, it’s the foundation for all the other Beatitudes.

Every saint in his or her unique way shows us what it means to be poor in spirit, what it means to understand that life and the source of life does not come from us, it comes from outside of us as a gift, and Divine Life comes from outside of us as a gift through the power of the Spirit. They show us what it means to depend upon God in all things and to trust that God will provide. And so, they could live out those other Beatitudes as well – injustice causing them to mourn, and then to turn to find consolation in the God of All Hope, their desire for righteousness, to make right their relationship with God and right their relationship with others, as strong as a deep hunger or an aching thirst, hearts fully devoted to God, leading them to act with mercy and sow the seeds of peace. And their way of living like that of Jesus himself, challenging those in power, and thus like the preacher of the Beatitudes, they, too, will suffer because of it.

The saints by their lives poured out in love of God and others, they show us holiness is not complicated, it’s not just something out there for men and women in monasteries or convents, but holiness is rooted in the very stuff of our daily lives, in the messiness of our lives, as we struggle to love more fully our neighbor, to give our lives more fully to God, it is right there that we are being fired, shaped into who we truly are—saints of God.

At each and every Eucharist the saints join us in singing praise to God, or rather, more correctly, we join them in their endless hymn of praise to God. It is as if Earth is joined to Heaven and a veil is removed and we see how around this table we are joined to the saints in these songs of joy and gratitude to God.

I was this past week at a clergy education day at the Pastoral Center and we had Mass in the chapel there. If you have every been there, you’ve noticed the beautiful stained glass windows along each side and they are arranged so that as Mass is being celebrated, the reflections of those saints are kind of carved into the marble behind the altar so that you can see them right there around the altar praying with us. And so it is that the eyes of faith recognize the presence of the saints here joining us in prayer and with the eyes of faith, we recognize that we are never alone, that they are with us every day, urging us on in this journey of faith, cheering us on in this race of faith, reminding us our destiny—every one of us!—our destiny is life with God forever.

Father Joseph Jacobi