Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
7 September 2025
Jesus has a simple formula for maturing his followers; it is the cross. ‘Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.’ However, the question may legitimately arise, ‘Why is the cross a condition of following Jesus?’ Jesus provides an answer in this passage. When he speaks of ‘hating father and mother’ and even one’s ‘own life,’ Jesus is indicating that the price of discipleship is to love him above all other things – even good and holy things like mother and father. Only God may have the first place in our lives: ‘…seek his kingdom, and these other things will be given you besides’ (Luke 12:31). Whenever we choose something, we necessarily leave other options behind, and that entails sacrifice. For example, when you pick a job, you leave the other jobs aside. Christ is saying that all of our decisions must be subordinate to love of him and his will. ‘Will this decision transgress one of the Ten Commandments?’ ‘Is this decision in accord with my vocation or state in life?’ ‘Is this decision God’s will for me at this moment?’ That is where we must prayerfully discern what God wants for us. This is not meant to create a scrupulous fear of ‘making the wrong decision,’ but rather seeking to please God in all we do in the light of faith.
epriest.com
The Exaltation of the Holy Cross
14 September 2025
Have you ever pondered why Christ, the pure embodiment of Love, had to endure the Cross? Could there have been another way? Perhaps the answer lies in the very nature of love. True love isn’t simply about joys and comforts; it’s also about sacrifices, about giving without counting the cost. The Cross, in its raw, unfiltered brutality, became the canvas upon which the greatest love story was painted.
‘For God so loved the world…’ These aren’t mere words, but a profound declaration. It’s as if Love itself, in its infinite wisdom, chose the Cross to prove its depth. In the eyes of the world, the Cross may appear as a symbol of humiliation, but in the eyes of faith, it’s the ultimate symbol of love.
Jesus’s conversation with Nicodemus in today’s Gospel is a profound one. He speaks of belief, of eternal life, of salvation. It’s a reminder that the Cross is not the end but a bridge – a bridge to resurrection, to eternal life.
But there’s another layer here: a call to action for each of us. How often do we lift our personal crosses? Do we see them as burdens or as bridges to a deeper communion with Christ? Just as the bronze serpent brought healing, can our crosses, when united with Christ’s, bring about transformation within us?
Today, let us gaze upon the Cross, not with sorrow but with gratitude. For in its shadow lies the promise of hope, the assurance of love, and the path to eternal life. In a world often marred by hatred and division, may the exalted Cross remind us of the lengths Love will go to embrace and heal us all.
Fray Bart OAR
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
21 September 2025
Today’s gospel calls us to account for our management of all that we are and all that we have. The demand for an accounting often sounds like someone is in trouble. That’s how today’s parable begins. The manager has been charged with squandering his master’s property. He is going to be fired. He will lose his job, income, reputation, and status. At some level he will lose his life as he now knows it.
Whether we’ve lived it, heard it from a friend or colleague, or read it in the news, it’s a familiar story. Somebody has been bad. They’ve been caught. Now they’re going to get what they deserve. That’s how the world works. That’s what we expect. But that’s not how the kingdom of God works and parables rarely give us what we expect. So we ought not be too quick to come to a final or definitive interpretation of this parable. We cannot with ease or confidence declare who, if any one in particular, each character represents: God, Jesus, or us. The parable offers ambiguity and tension not a neat resolution and that feels a lot like real life.
What if the accounting is not about finding wrongdoing but new life? What if its about grace rather than punishment? If a parable makes sense we’ve probably missed the point.
The accounting of our management isn’t about numbers, wrongdoing, or punishment but about helping us see and orient our lives in a new direction. It opens us to new possibilities. It points us to our eternal home.
‘Give me an accounting of your management.’ What are you doing with your life? Who are you serving?
www.interruptingthesilence.com
Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
28 September 2025 • World Day of Migrants and Refugees
Today’s gospel is about how we live today. Jesus is telling us that how we live today has consequences for tomorrow, not just for ourselves but for others too. Jesus is asking us, regardless of our income, to face the poverty in ourselves and the world.
Lazarus doesn’t just represent poverty in the world, he also represents the rich man’s impoverishment. I suspect that’s one reason why we set gates between the rich and poor. We don’t want to look in the eyes of Lazarus and see ourselves. If we did, if we ever truly saw impoverishment in the world and in ourselves, it would ask something of us.
Look at all the ways we set gates between ourselves and others; between rich and poor, the powerful and the powerless. What if we open the gates of compassion and concern for others, generosity and sharing, healing and wholeness, forgiveness and reconciliation, justice and peace, vulnerability and love? What would that take? And what would it mean for your life?
Look at your life and world. What are the closed gates in your life today? What gates are separating you from yourself or another? What is impoverishing you today? It might be fear, anger, resentment, jealousy, indifference, guilt, grief, old wounds, loneliness, cynicism, prejudice, or a thousand other things.
Our gates are being rattled. Every day our gates are being rattled.
Lazarus is knocking, rattling your gate and my gate. Lazarus is knocking.
interruptingthesilence.com