Path To Sunday

Today, on this Respect Life Sunday, we pause to remember that the right to life is the foundation of all human dignity. If we fail to protect innocent life at its most vulnerable stage—at conception—then every other right becomes fragile. Once a society decides that life is valuable only when it is wanted, then life at any stage can be discarded. That is why we now see euthanasia and other grave attacks against human life becoming more acceptable.
The numbers are staggering. Since 1973, there have been over 65 million abortions in our country and more than a billion worldwide. In fact, estimates vary from as little as one billion to as many as three billion worldwide; many sources indicate that 2.5 billion is a fair estimate. These numbers far exceed the casualties of all the wars of the last century. As the prophet Habakkuk cried, “Violence! Why do you let me see ruin?” We too cry out at the immorality before us.

The parable of the rich man and Lazarus provides insight into what it means to be “a good person.” The rich man lived in luxury, dressed in purple garments dyed from costly sea snails, a sign of immense wealth. Lazarus, by contrast, was homeless, sick, and so neglected that dogs licked his sores. When both died, Lazarus was carried to Abraham’s bosom, while the rich man found himself in torment.

What is striking is that the rich man had not murdered, stolen, or committed obvious crimes. By many measures, he might have been considered a “good” man. Yet he failed to recognize Lazarus as a fellow human being deserving love and respect. Even in torment, he treated Lazarus as an object to serve his needs. He asks Abraham to send him with water or to warn his brothers. His downfall was a hardened heart, ignoring the suffering at his doorstep and refusing to heed God’s word.

Jesus’ teaching that “no servant can serve two masters” remains as relevant today as it was two thousand years ago. Though few people would admit to serving “mammon,” or money, many of our daily decisions are quietly driven by it—what we buy, how we spend, and what we hope to gain. Rarely do we pause to ask whether our choices are guided by love of God, by justice, or by care for the poor. This struggle is not new; it has always been part of human life.

The root of the problem often begins with the word “mine.” We claim ownership of things, but in truth nothing ultimately belongs to us. God, who created and sustains all things, is the true owner. Even our very bodies are not our own, as St. Paul reminds us: “You are not your own… you were bought with a price. Therefore glorify God in your body” (1 Cor 6:19-20). C.S. Lewis makes the same point in The Screwtape Letters, where he notes that humans cannot truly say “mine” about anything. In the end, all will belong either to God or to the Enemy.

The antidote to this illusion of ownership is the idea of stewardship. In the ancient world, a steward (oikonomos: oikos meaning “house” and nomos meaning “law”) was entrusted with managing an entire household, though he owned none of it himself. His task was to ensure that bills were paid, meals were served, and children were taught—all for the well-being of the family. In the same way, God entrusts us with lives, talents, and opportunities. These are gifts meant not only for our benefit, but for God’s glory and the good of others.

How can you have victory through defeat? It’s crazy, right? The two things (victory and defeat) are contradictory. When it comes to Christ, however, it is (paradoxically) true. Perhaps we should say, rather, that Christ has victory in what seems like defeat.

This is good news for us. If you struggle or suffer, then today’s celebration of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross should give you hope. As St. Paul tells us in the second reading, Christ suffered death on the cross, but through it came to victory. He can do the same for us. What we need to do is understand how it works.

When humanity sinned, it rejected a loving relationship and friendship with God. (That is the point of the story of Adam and Eve). Since it is love that brings life, sin brings death. The result of original sin was not just death of the body, but also death of the soul. Hell is about living in such a way that you have no tangible sense of God’s presence: no relationship with God.

To save us, therefore, God not only had to forgive our sins, but also convince us to freely choose to love him again. So how was he going to do that? By becoming human and dying on the Cross. To convince us to love him, God showed us the greatest sign of love possible: giving his own life for us.

It was the bridegroom showing his beloved that he loves her to death, and would give anything for her. Or as it is written in today’s gospel “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (John 3:16-17).

At the same time, Christ himself goes into death in order to defeat death. He is like the knight who enters the belly of the dragon and then kills the beast from the inside to then emerge with victory. With Jesus, love wins over sin precisely by giving its life in death. If sin is the opposite of love, then Christ wins by loving unto death.

If you understand that, then you can understand how Jesus can bring victory to our suffering and our struggles. Sometimes Jesus does work the physical miracles by curing an illness, or getting a person a better job. However, he often does not. The real miracle is how he changes our hearts. He cannot force our free will. When we encounter the cross in our lives, whether that is sickness or financial distress, if we embrace it in Jesus, then it can transform our hearts.

Discipleship is more than simply following Jesus; it is walking in His footsteps and imitating Christ in every aspect of life. At baptism, we became sons and daughters of God, called to pattern our lives on His Son. A true disciple is not one who follows Jesus occasionally or merely to receive blessings, but one whose entire identity is rooted in being a child of God and a follower of Christ.

The Gospels show that large crowds often followed Jesus, many drawn by His reputation as a miracle worker. Yet Jesus made clear that not all who followed Him were true disciples. He began to set conditions: “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” In other words, discipleship requires total commitment, putting Christ above everything else.

A disciple is someone under discipline, embracing the challenges of faith each day. Like an Olympic athlete who sacrifices daily for a crown that perishes, disciples accept the cost of following Christ for a reward that endures forever.

Saint Augustine once said that the three most essential things for the spiritual life are “humility, humility, humility.” To understand this, we must first distinguish between worldly humility and biblical humility.

Worldly humility is often thought of as downplaying one’s accomplishments or refusing honor. For example, if Walter Payton, one of the greatest football players, were to say he was “average,” people would call that humble. While this attitude captures a willingness not to draw attention to oneself, it is, nonetheless, inauthentic because it is contrary to the truth.

Biblical humility, by contrast, is rooted in the truth. Jesus himself is the perfect model of humility. Though he is God, he “emptied himself” and became human, obedient even to death on a cross (Philippians 2). His humility was not in denying who he is but in serving others through self-sacrificial love. Thus, true humility is not about belittling oneself, but about recognizing the radical truth: all that we are and all that we have come from God, and all of our gifts and talents are given for his glory and the good of others.

What made Michael Jordan the greatest basketball player of all time? He didn’t stumble into greatness. Rather, he worked relentlessly for it. Jordan was known as the first one on the court for practice and the last one to leave. Growing up, he lived basketball. His life was marked by discipline: he became a true disciple of the game.

The word “discipline” is not heard often today, but it is central to the Christian life. Discipline is not only self-control; it also comes from the loving correction of parents and from God Himself. Scripture reminds us: “My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lord… for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines” (Heb 12:5–6). At the time discipline feels painful, but later it bears the “peaceful fruit of righteousness.”

Jesus warns us not to presume salvation: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate” (Lk 13:24). In His day, many presumed they would be saved simply because they were God’s chosen people. Likewise, we as Catholics may presume: I was baptized, and I haven’t killed anyone, so I must be fine. But salvation cannot be earned. It is a gift won by Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection. Yet it requires our participation: to become disciples shaped by discipline.