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Readings for Sunday: Genesis, Colossians, Luke

Challenging us with the bold statement, “I rejoice in my sufferings,” Saint Paul has a lot to tell us about our path to heaven. At first, this may seem puzzling: why would anyone rejoice in suffering? But behind Paul’s declaration is an important truth: suffering is not meaningless, but rather a means of sanctification, becoming holy and “perfect” in Christ.

St. Paul’s joy in suffering stems from his understanding that perfection is not about worldly success (our bodies, finances, or careers) but about becoming more like Christ. At baptism, we are adopted into God’s family and cleansed of sin, but this is only the beginning. The Christian life is a lifelong transformation, a process by which we are perfected in Christ. That means being conformed to Christ in His humanity, authentically loving God and neighbor.

Too often, we assume that getting to heaven is simply about avoiding hell by not murdering people. Yet, if all of us were taken to heaven right now, just as we are and hence without any transformation, heaven would no longer be a place of perfect love, peace and joy. We are the ones who gossip, lie, and lust. For everlasting life to be true love, peace, and joy, we have to be a people perfectly conformed to Christ.

Suffering plays a necessary role in that transformation. St. Paul wrote, “in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of His body, which is the church.” He wasn’t implying that Christ’s suffering was incomplete. Only Christ’s suffering and death on the cross has opened the gates of heaven to us. Christ has saved us.

The power of what he has done for humanity, however, must be actualized in each of us, here and now, across the centuries. Moreover, none of us does it in isolation: if heaven is our union together in Christ, then we are called to love by sacrifice for our brothers and sisters.

This way of enduring is called redemptive suffering, and was summed up in the older phrase, “offer it up.” We are called to offer our afflictions for each other, letting Christ’s power move in us, transforming us in the process.

Readings for Sunday: Deuteronomy, Colossians, Luke

Samaritans were considered to be non-Jews. As a people, they descended from the intermarriage of the Jews in the Northern Kingdom of Israel after the Assyrian Exile (~722BC) and the gentiles (pagans) brought in to populate the Northern Kingdom. Thus, even though they thought of themselves as descents of Abraham, they were considered to be non-Jewish: a mixed race with a mixed religion. They were despised and considered impure; they were not “neighbors.” Yet, it is the Samaritan who stopped to help the robber’s victim. He doesn’t just feel compassion; he acts. He dresses the man’s wounds, pays for his care, and expects nothing in return. This is agape, one of the different Greek words for “love.” It is an action, doing good for the other’s sake, without expecting repayment. We are all wounded: by sin, by life, and by each other. Jesus’ meaning behind the parable of the Good Samaritan is to recognize that everyone, even those different from us, even our enemies, are our neighbors. And we are called to love and serve them, as Christ loves and serves us.

Readings for Sunday: Isaiah, Galatians, Luke

Third, the crucifix keeps our eyes fixed on salvation, not self-help. Some preachers promise earthly blessings in the sense of health and wealth, yet St. Paul—martyred for the gospel—trained, “to win an imperishable crown” (1 Cor 9:25). Christ on the cross tells us discipleship is costly (“Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me’” Matt 16:24).

The empty tomb tells us that discipleship is worthwhile. Faced with that contrast, we must choose Christ over the fallen “world” that was crucified to Paul and to us (Gal 6:14). Far from denying the Resurrection, the crucifix anchors Christian hope: the Lamb once slain now lives—and invites us to follow.

Readings for Sunday: Acts, 2 Timothy, Matthew

This Sunday, we celebrate the two great evangelizers of our faith—St. Peter, the apostle to the Jews, and St. Paul, the apostle to the gentiles. Though very different in background and personality, both were chosen by Christ and gave their lives to build His Church. The readings for today offer us a powerful reminder of who they were, what they endured, and what their lives mean for us.

In our first reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, Peter is imprisoned for preaching the Gospel. An angel of the Lord comes, light fills the cell, and Peter walks free. God isn’t done with him yet. It’s a reminder that when we follow Christ, no prison—physical or spiritual—can hold us back.

Next, in Paul’s second letter to Timothy, we read the apostle’s words: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” What a testimony! Paul’s life wasn’t easy—he was beaten, shipwrecked, and imprisoned—but he never gave up. And through it all, he trusted that the Lord would see him through.

Finally, in today’s Gospel from Matthew, we hear that it is Peter, who answers, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus responds with those unforgettable words: “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church.”

This isn’t just about Peter personally—it’s about the Church’s foundation. Jesus entrusts Peter with leadership, showing us how God works through human instruments to guide His people.

Peter and Paul weren’t perfect; both would admit that they were sinners. Paul originally persecuted members of the Church and Peter denied Jesus three times before the crucifixion. But grace transformed them—and through them, the world. Their lives encourage us to say “yes” to Jesus, no matter our past, and to trust that God can do great things through each of us.

Let us pray today for their courage, their faith, and their love for Christ. May we, like Peter and Paul, become living stones in the Church that the Father continues to build—in and through Christ, our Lord.

Readings for Corpus Christi Sunday: Genesis, 1st Corinthians, Luke

At the Last Supper—celebrated during Passover—Jesus connected His sacrifice on the cross to the ancient deliverance of Israel from slavery in Egypt. Just as the Israelites had to eat the Passover lamb to partake in God’s salvation, so too we must partake of the true Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, who takes away the sins of the world. We describe our participation in the sacrifice of Christ for our salvation through the word transubstantiation: the substance of bread and wine truly becomes the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ, though the appearance of bread and wine remains the same.

So why wouldn’t we have Communion every day? If Christ Himself becomes present to offer salvation, to nourish us for eternal life, and to unite us to His sacrifice—how could we not?

Readings for Trinity Sunday: Proverbs, Romans, John

In the end, we will struggle to fully understand God as Trinity because God is infinite, and we are not. The idea of one God in three persons is not irrational, but suprarational; it exceeds the ability of our finite minds to understand.

For that reason, we say the Trinity (God) is a mystery. For us, a “mystery” is not a problem to be solved or a whodunit. It is a reality so profound and deep that we can never completely understand.  God is love, and while we can understand a lot, there is always so much more, to the point that we can spend forever in heaven knowing God better and better, and yet there will always be more.

Readings for Pentecost Sunday (during the day): Acts, Romans, John

Have you ever wondered why we call ourselves Catholic Christians? We read in the book of the Acts of Apostles in the Bible: “Then he (Barnabas) went to Tarsus to look for Saul, and when he had found him he brought him to Antioch. For a whole year they met with the church and taught a large number of people, and it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians.” A Christian is one who believes in Jesus, the God-man, who saves the world by his passion, death, and resurrection. A Christian believes that Jesus is the Son, who teaches us about the Father and the Holy Spirit; one God in three persons.

It is again from Antioch that we received the second part of our name. St. Ignatius of Antioch, writing in 107AD, spoke of the Church as “Catholic,” specifically with the Greek word katholicos, meaning “universal.” The Church is for everyone, Jews and Greeks/gentiles. It doesn’t matter from which country or people you come; God calls everyone to belong to himself in Christ Jesus.

As far as the word “Church” is concerned, it is Greek, ekklesia, meaning “(those) called out of.” The Church is comprised of Jews and gentiles: those called out of sin and death into life, those called out of darkness into light.

That is why in today’s second reading, St. Paul reminds us that, “[I]n one Spirit we were all baptized into one body,
whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons,
and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.” The new covenant that Jesus established opened the doors of salvation to the whole world. Pentecost is when the mission truly began. The Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles, empowering them to speak in many languages and boldly proclaim the Gospel. People from all nations understood them, a clear sign that the Church was for everyone. Today, the Catholic Church continues this mission. With over a billion members worldwide, we are still one body in Christ.

Readings for the Ascension of the Lord: Acts, Hebrews, Luke

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,” wrote Shakespeare. While he may have meant it metaphorically, there is something profoundly true in that statement—especially when we speak of the drama of salvation.

This divine drama isn’t make-believe; it is the true story of history—our relationship with God unfolding across time. God built the stage—our universe—and placed us, real people, into His story. From the beginning, He desired a relationship with us. But the devil sought to disrupt this divine play by tempting humanity into sin.

Yet the most remarkable twist in this drama came when God Himself took the stage. In Jesus Christ, God entered history. By His death and resurrection, He restored what was broken. The drama could now continue. But surprisingly, Jesus didn’t stay on stage.

His Ascension wasn’t an exit, but an invitation—for us to step into His role. The Church, His body, now carries on His mission.

Had Jesus remained visibly among us, we might have only sat at His feet. Instead, He ascended so we might rise, filled with the Holy Spirit, to be “little Christs”—active in the world, continuing His work.

But the drama isn’t over. As the angels told the apostles, Jesus will return. The story ends when the Church, transformed and united in love, gathers around Him once more. Until then, the curtain remains open—and we each have a role to play.

So, remember: the drama of salvation is still unfolding—and you are part of it.

Sixth Sunday of Easter Readings: Acts, Revelation, John

Our readings for this Sunday reveal the radical, countercultural call of Christianity: to live in love and peace—not the superficial kind, but the real, gritty, divine kind. If being a hippie is about love and peace, then Catholics, through Christ, are the uber hippies. But not by the world’s definition. Jesus redefines love as agape – self-giving, sacrificial, faithful action. Not just emotions or romance. As Jesus says, “Whoever loves me will keep my word,” love is obedience rooted in relationship. To love Jesus means choosing daily discipleship – intentional actions, sacrifices, and the humility to love even when we don’t feel like it.

This love leads to peace – but again, not the world’s shallow version of peace, as in the absence of conflict or a detente. Without addressing underlying issues, such absences quickly end in renewed conflicts.  The Hebrew word for peace is shalom; it means right relationship, right relationship with God, with oneself, and with others. When there are right relationships all around, then there is true and lasting peace. Jesus is the source of true peace because He is the reconciliation between heaven and earth.

In the second reading’s vision of the heavenly city, there’s no temple because God and the Lamb dwell with the people. All is in right relationship – perfect peace.

Being Catholic, then, means living out this divine love and peace in a world that worships idols: comfort, consumerism, and self. True discipleship is countercultural. It’s resisting gossip, greed, and indifference. It’s why we gather on Sundays, why we sacrifice, why people should sense something different – right relationship – when they encounter the people of St. James Parish. Discipleship isn’t a trend. It’s a revolution of love. In Christ, we are called not to blend in, but to stand out – as the true lovers and peacemakers of the world.

Fifth Sunday of Easter Readings: Acts, Revelation, John

The Church is not a club or a social organization; it is the living Body of Christ, called to embody Christ’s love and glory for the world to see.

Jesus commands not that we “like” one another, but that we love, willing the good of the other, even when it is difficult. We often fail at this, and the world notices when we do. At St. James (and beyond), we must ask: How well do we love one another? Are we willing to serve, to sacrifice, to refrain from gossip or criticism? True love, revealed on the cross, is what marks us as His disciples and shows the world who God really is: a Trinity of self-emptying love.