33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C

Jesus Christ never leaves us without Hope.

Recently I have become acquainted with a man who shared his story that, as a young man from an abusive and drug-addicted family, he found himself on the streets, homeless, fleeing the chaos of his home life.  One Sunday morning he found himself, as a homeless person, sitting on a bench outside a Catholic church during Mass.  As parishioners were coming out of the church after Mass, he encountered a couple who stopped, reached out and talked with him.  Noticing the homeless man did not have a coat, the husband immediately gave him his coat before they went on their way.  The homeless man found himself wondering — what made that couple different from all the others he had encountered in his walk as a homeless person?  As time went on, he got into a stable situation, landed a job, got married and had a family of his own, and that question in his heart from that day led him to become a Catholic himself.  Today he and his wife are discerning his call to a vocation to ordained ministry as a Deacon in the Church. 

Jesus Christ never leaves us without Hope.


The scripture and Gospel passages today contain a lot of disconcerting, and perhaps even scary, imagery regarding the end times: blazing fires, destruction of the Temple, wars, insurrections, deceit, persecutions, and death.  But notice how these prophecies conclude:


”But for you who fear my name, there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays”


“...but not a hair on your head will be destroyed.  By your perseverance you will secure your lives."


Jesus Christ never leaves us without Hope.


How fitting that we should be reminded of Hope, about Hope in the midst of the tribulations of our lives and world, as we move towards the end of this liturgical year, the Jubilee Year of Hope.  It is this same Hope that Pope Leo XIV draws our attention to on this Sunday, the World Day of the Poor in his message for the day, entitled “You are my Hope.”  In this message Pope Leo instructs us on the relationship between the poor, ourselves, and Hope, and of our collective responsibility to Hope.  Here is what Pope Leo writes:


The poor are not a distraction for the Church, but our beloved brothers and sisters, for by their lives, their words and their wisdom, they put us in contact with the truth of the Gospel.


[They] can be witnesses to a strong and steadfast hope, precisely because they embody it in the midst of uncertainty, poverty, instability and marginalization. They cannot rely on the security of power and possessions; … Their hope must necessarily be sought elsewhere.


God took on their poverty in order to enrich us through their voices, their stories and their faces. Every form of poverty, without exception, calls us to experience the Gospel concretely and to offer effective signs of hope. (1)


Pope Leo reminds us that in encountering the poor among us, we encounter hope in Christ the Servant who washes both our feet.  In serving our poor brothers and sisters — poor in whatever means — serving them in acts of charity and kindness, we find ourselves in the presence of Christ who shows us true Hope, Faith and Charity.  We too are fed, washed and healed while we do the same for our brothers and sisters. 

While we are fed at this table of Charity, Pope Leo reminds us that we have a responsibility to serve at it.


Hope is born of faith, which nourishes and sustains it on the foundation of charity, the mother of all virtues. All of us need charity, here and now. Charity is not just a promise; it is a present reality to be embraced with joy and responsibility… to offer new signs of hope that will bear witness to Christian charity… (1)


We are called to the responsibility of charity: it is not an optional thing!  Each act of charity is an act of kindness, compassion, mercy.  Sometimes they are big acts; and sometimes they are small acts of charity in support of a big act, like contributing time or goods to our food pantry or community Thanksgiving dinner, the Giving Tree or Angel Tree party.  And sometimes they are small acts of reaching out, listening, or encouragement.  We can all offer those acts of charity and all of us need that charity.  Do not give into the temptation that even the simplest act of charity, of kindness, is not of great value!  Giving into that temptation leads us to indifference and inaction, which Pope Leo teaches “robs our [brothers and sisters] of hope.”   

Kindness matters!  Never underestimate that your kindness, your charity, can be a lifeline of hope and light in what might be a dark moment or period in another person's life.  Each little act of charity is a stone which we build into the wall of a great temple of Hope, the cornerstone and master-builder of which is Christ himself.  A temple of Hope built of living stones which beckons the world into communion with the One who is Eternal Hope, Light and Life.  As Jesus Christ gives us Hope, let us persevere in acts of charity and kindness, despite the tribulations of all going on around us and in us, and share that Hope with one another.


(1)  Pope Leo XIV. Message of the Holy Father for the 9th World Day of the Poor: You are my Hope

Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • September 24, 2026
In today's parable we meet two brothers; one says he will go and doesn’t, the other says he will not go and does. The listeners decide the second did his father’s will. In life we judge people not by their words but by their actions. Those who act upon their words we honor. We are given second chances to reconsider our words and decide to do what we are asked to do. Too often it is hard to say 'yes' and act upon our 'yes'. This may have been the case with the second brother, but in time he said 'yes' by his actions. I am reminded of a meditation by Michael Quoist: I am afraid of saying "Yes," Lord. Where will you take me? I am afraid of drawing the longer straw, I am afraid of signing my name to an unread agreement, I am afraid of the "yes" that entails other "yeses." And yet I am not at peace. You pursue me, Lord, you besiege me. I seek out the din for fear of hearing you, but in a moment of silence you slip through. I turn from the road, for I have caught sight of you, but at the end of the path you are there awaiting me. Where shall I hide? I meet you everywhere. Is it then impossible to escape you? But I am afraid to say "Yes," Lord. I am afraid of putting my hand in yours, for you hold on to it. I am afraid of meeting your eyes, for you can win me. I am afraid of your demands, for you are a jealous God. I am hemmed in, yet I hide. I am captured, yet I struggle, and I fight knowing that I am defeated. For you are the stronger, Lord, you own the world and you take it from me. When I stretch out my hand to catch hold of people and things, they vanish before my eyes. It's no fun, Lord, I can't keep anything for myself. The flower I pick fades in my hands. My laugh freezes on my lips. The waltz I dance leaves me restless and uneasy. Everything seems empty, Everything seems hollow, You have made a desert around me. I am hungry and thirsty, And the whole world cannot satisfy me. And yet I loved you, Lord; what have I done to you? I worked for you; I gave myself for you. O great and terrible God, What more do you want? * * * Son, I want more for you and for the world. Until now you have planned your actions, but I have no need of them. You have asked for my approval, you have asked for my support, You have wanted to interest me in your work. But don't you see, son, that you were reversing the roles? I have watched you, I have seen your good will, And I want more than you, now. You will no longer do your own works, but the will of your Father in heaven. Say "Yes," son. I need your "yes" as I needed Mary's "yes" to come to earth, For it is I who must do your work, It is I who must live in your family, It is I who must be in your neighborhood, and not you. For it is my look that penetrates, and not yours, My words that carry weight, and not yours, My life that transforms, and not yours. Give all to me, abandon all to me. I need your "yes" to be united with you and to come down to earth, I need your "yes" to continue saving the world! * * * O Lord, I am afraid of your demands, but who can resist you? That your Kingdom may come and not mine, That your will may be done and not mine, Help me to say "Yes." — Michael Quoist in Prayers

Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti • September 20, 2026
One of my most favorite responses I get from people when I greet them and ask “Hey, how are you?” is the response, “Better than I deserve.” There is something in that response that not only strikes a chord of humility but also of God’s generosity and mercy. Most of us have a strong sense of fairness. The response “better than I deserve” is rooted in our sense of fairness and justice, a sense that might lead us to understand, and perhaps even sympathize, with the reaction of the vineyard workers who labored all day, in the heat of the day, and yet are paid the same amount as those that worked only one hour. How is that right? But the parable we hear in the Gospel is not about what is ‘right and just’. The themes of this parable are about the lavish generosity and mercy of God and , as the Gospel always is, a challenge to examine what is going on in our own hearts — what is happening with our own conversion of heart . These two themes might come alive more for us, as God speaking directly to us, if we change one word in one verse in the parable to express what God intends for us. What if the verse, “Am I not free to do as I wish with my own money?” was instead read, “Am I not free to do as I wish with my own mercy ?” See how that changes things? We are often, so often, fixated on fairness, equity, and justice. There is nothing wrong with those concepts and virtues, except when we fail to live beyond them to generosity and mercy . We have a God who lives beyond justice, in generosity and mercy, and who calls us to do the same. You see, if we stop at fairness and justice, we find ourselves in the same place with the early laborers in the vineyard, exercising judgment on what is equitable, and in so doing end up metering generosity and mercy — not even our own generosity and mercy, but God’s! Now our response becomes, “Better than they deserve…” Our true motivations get called out by the owner of the vineyard when he says, “Are you envious because I am generous?” We end up subject to the same temptation the vineyard laborers experience, the capital sin of envy , the resentment at another’s good fortune. What instead should be the disposition of our hearts? Jesus himself tells us in a related parable about conversion of heart when he says, “There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance” (Lk 15:7). Joy! We are called to fill our hearts with Joy at God’s generosity and mercy lavished upon our sisters and brothers who hear and heed a call to conversion of heart in Christ, no matter the stage in their lives; joy over one lost sheep who is found and brought home at the end of the day. Joy is the antidote of envy. Joy is our participation in the generosity and mercy of God, the fitting response to God’s generosity and mercy. And it is nothing short of an exercise of Love, which is to will the good of the other. None of us is deserving of God's generous grace and mercy. We do not merit it, nor should we meter it with our judgement, for we are all in need of it.  How are we? I hope and pray, by the grace of God, with Joy in our hearts, “Better than we deserve.”

Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • September 13, 2026
In the Masterpiece production of The Count of Monte Cristo , the main character is sent to prison; there he meets another prisoner who advises him, “If you seek for revenge, you should first dig two graves.” After the count achieves revenge he tells his friend, “The prisoner was right.” She responds, “Love can heal.” The readings today speak about forgiveness. Forgiveness is about choosing to love. When we forgive the other, we may not receive what we hoped for from the other. Forgiveness or love are not about the other person, but about me. There are many I will choose to love whom I do not like. Love is not simply about feelings, but love is a choice to forgive the other, means not hearing the words “I was wrong” or “I forgive you.” The choice to love may not change the other, but it will change me. One reason Jesus tells Peter to forgive 7 times 70 is that it may take time for the forgiveness to have an effect upon him. Jesus is familiar with the words of Sirach: hate not your neighbor; remember the Most High’s covenant, and overlook faults (Sir 28:7). Sometimes people will ask me why such and such is allowed to act as they do. I find myself reminding them that it is God who judges. King David knew he had done wrong, yet he was able to write the words of Psalm 103 — The Lord is kind and merciful, slow to anger, and rich in compassion — the psalm for today’s Mass. For the many things he did as pope, Pope Francis may be best remembered for a short phrase: "who am I to judge?" When asked who he was, Pope Francis responded, “I am a sinner.” We all have people in our lives who we would like to punish to seek revenge, but the better way is to forgive from our heart. When we forgive, we leave the judging to our God. Remember, it is “love that can heal.”