God’s family

January 27, 2026 Tuesday within the third week in Ordinary Time Year A Mk 3:31-35 In this passage, Jesus redefines the very meaning of family. While His biological mother and brothers are standing outside, seeking Him, Jesus turns to the crowd and declares, “Whoever does the will of God is my brother, and sister, and mother.” It is striking how He places obedience to God above blood ties. I can relate personally to this challenge, because there are moments when following God’s call asks me to prioritize His mission over comfort, familiarity, or even expectations from those closest to me. Jesus reminds us that spiritual bonds, rooted in faith and alignment with God’s will, can transcend natural relationships. This teaching also challenges me to examine my own life: where do my loyalties truly lie? Am I more concerned with pleasing people or with doing God’s will? Jesus’ words cut through the human tendency to cling to familiar attachments and invite me to embrace a higher allegiance. I see in my ministry how people who may not be part of my family by blood become brothers and sisters in faith. Every time I counsel, teach, or pray with someone, I am reminded that family in God’s kingdom is formed by love and obedience, not merely by genealogy. Finally, this passage offers profound consolation and hope. In God’s family, no one is excluded. Those who respond to His call, who live according to His will, are embraced as kin of Christ Himself. It reassures me that even when I feel alone, misunderstood, or distant from my earthly family, I belong fully to a larger, eternal family. True belonging is not about proximity or recognition—it is about participation in God’s will, which unites hearts in His love. Walking in that truth brings a deep peace, a reminder that in Christ, we all have a home that surpasses every earthly relationship. Blessings Fr. Jhack

Second Sunday of Advent

December 7, 2025 Second Sunday of Advent Year A Matthew 3:1–12 Let me share with three D’s for today’s reflection: I called it the 3 D’s of our conversion. First, DECIDE The voice of John the Baptist crying out in the wilderness confronts us with a choice: to remain comfortable in our old ways or to decide for God. “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand” is not just an announcement; it is a divine invitation to make a firm and personal decision to change. Faith is not passive. It begins the moment we decide to turn our hearts toward God, to admit our need for mercy, and to choose obedience over convenience. Advent reminds us that preparing the way of the Lord always begins with a courageous decision of the heart. Second, DEPART True repentance calls us to depart from what keeps us tied to sin and spiritual laziness. John’s strong imagery of the axe at the root of the tree shows us that God desires a clean break, not a shallow adjustment. Departing means walking away from pride, unforgiveness, dishonesty, and all the hidden sins we have become used to. It also means letting go of false securities and self-righteousness, just as John challenged the Pharisees to stop depending on their lineage and start living authentic lives of faith. This departure is painful at times, but it is necessary for genuine freedom. Finally, DEEPEN The coming of Christ, who baptizes with the Holy Spirit and fire, calls us to deepen our relationship with God. This fire is not meant to destroy but to transform, leading us into a more intimate, more mature, and more passionate faith. Deepening means growing in prayer, love, humility, and trust, allowing the Spirit to reveal the depths of God’s will in our lives. When we decide for God, depart from sin, and deepen our communion with Him, we truly prepare the way of the Lord and allow His Kingdom to take root in our hearts. Blessings Fr. Jhack

LET GO

August 18, 2025 Monday within the 20th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 19:16–22 When I read the story of the rich young man, I see myself in him. He is eager, respectful, and searching. He approaches Jesus with a burning question: “What good must I do to gain eternal life?” Deep down, I know I also ask the same thing—not always with words, but with the restlessness of my heart. I try to do good, I keep the faith, I follow what the Church teaches, yet sometimes I still feel that something is missing. Jesus’ reply pierces me: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor… then come, follow me.” In other words: let go. I may not be rich in money like the young man, but I realize I have my own “possessions” that keep me bound. It could be my pride, my fear of the future, my desire to control, or even relationships and comforts that I hold too tightly. These things give me security, yet they also keep me from fully trusting God. The young man went away sad because his wealth was too heavy to release. I wonder—how many times have I walked away sad because I was unwilling to surrender what God was asking of me? How many moments have I chosen safety over discipleship, comfort over trust, my way over His? This Gospel is not about condemning riches but about confronting attachments. Jesus doesn’t want me half-free, half-his; He wants my whole heart. And I realize that peace will never come from clinging to things, but only from letting go into His hands. Eternal life is not something I earn with my goodness; it is a gift I receive when I follow Him with freedom. My prayer today is simple: Lord, show me what I need to release so I can follow You more fully. Take away my sadness, and replace it with the joy of walking in Your way. Blessings Fr. Jhack

CHILDLIKE

August 16, 2025 Saturday within the 19th week in Ordinary Time Year C Mt 19:13-15 I often catch myself overthinking, trying to control every situation, and measuring my worth by accomplishments or recognition. Yet, when I read Jesus’ words, “Let the little children come to me… for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Mt 19:14), I am reminded that God desires a heart like a child’s—humble, trusting, and open. It challenges me to let go of my pride, to stop overcomplicating my faith, and to simply run to Him with trust, just as a child runs to a parent. Being childlike doesn’t mean being naive; it means learning to rely fully on God, even when I don’t have all the answers. It’s about surrendering my fears, my need to control, and my doubts, and approaching Him with simplicity and humility. In my prayer and daily walk, I try to cultivate that openness—welcoming His love, guidance, and mercy without hesitation or reservation. This childlike faith transforms the way I live each day. I notice that when I let go and trust, peace replaces anxiety, gratitude replaces complaints, and joy replaces restlessness. It reminds me that the Kingdom of God isn’t earned by achievements or status—it’s received by hearts willing to trust, love, and surrender. I want to live with that trust every day, letting God’s grace shape my life like He shapes the lives of children in His arms. Blessings Fr. Jhack

SOLEMNITY OF THE ASSUMPTION

August 15, 2025 Solemnity of thr Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Luke 1:39–56 In today’s gospel, Mary calls herself “the lowly servant” in her Magnificat. She knew she was an ordinary young woman from a small village, unnoticed by the powerful, unknown beyond her town. Yet in God’s plan, her humility became the very reason she was chosen to bear the Savior. Mary’s greatness was not in human achievement but in her total openness to God’s will—her fiat, her “yes” to His word. She recognized that every honor she received came from Him who “has looked upon His handmaid’s lowliness” and “has done great things” for her. The Solemnity of the Assumption is the crowning moment of this divine reversal. The lowly maiden of Nazareth, who once traveled in haste to serve her cousin Elizabeth, is now taken body and soul into the glory of heaven. The one who chose to be last is now lifted to the highest place. This is the Gospel truth embodied in Mary’s life: God exalts the humble, raises the poor, and brings the faithful into His eternal joy. For us, the Assumption is both comfort and challenge. Comfort, because Mary’s glory is a promise of what God desires for each of us—a share in the resurrection and life of heaven. Challenge, because the path to that glory is the way of humility, service, and trust. If we, like Mary, let our lives magnify the Lord rather than ourselves, we too will be lifted up in God’s time, to the place He has prepared for those who love Him. The Assumption reminds us that true greatness begins in lowliness and ends in eternal glory. Blessings Fr. Jhack

SEVENTY SEVEN TIMES

August 14, 2025 Thursday within the 19th week in Ordinary Time: Year C Matthew 18:21–19:1 I remember a time when I felt so wronged that forgiveness seemed impossible. I replayed the words, the actions, and the betrayal over and over in my mind, as if holding on to the pain would somehow make it right. Like Peter, I found myself asking God, “Lord, how many times must I forgive? Surely there must be a limit?” But when I read Jesus’ answer—“Not seven times, but seventy times seven”—I felt both challenged and exposed. He was asking me to let go of my scorecard, to breathe the same mercy that I have received from Him so many times. Jesus is not giving us a calculator; He is revealing the heart of the Father. Divine mercy is not measured in installments. One day in prayer, I realized I was like that servant in the parable—freely forgiven of an unpayable debt, yet quick to hold another person hostage for something far smaller. It was a sobering moment. I had been on my knees countless times asking for God’s mercy, and every single time, He forgave me. Yet here I was, clinging to my hurt, unwilling to release it. That realization didn’t make forgiveness easy, but it made it necessary. It was no longer about what the other person deserved—it was about what God had already done for me. When I finally chose to forgive, it wasn’t a single grand moment; it was a process, sometimes a daily one. Each time the pain resurfaced, I handed it back to God. Over time, the bitterness loosened its grip. I learned that forgiveness doesn’t erase the wound, but it transforms it—it turns it into a place where God’s mercy can shine. And as I walked that road, I discovered something unexpected: in forgiving without limit, I was the one set free. Blessings Fr. Jhack

HOW TO WIN A STRAYED BROTHER

August 13, 2025 Wednesday within the 19th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 18:15–20 Three practical steps to restore a brother who has strayed (3P’s) 1. Do it in PRIVATE When a brother or sister in faith has strayed or caused offense, the first step is to approach them quietly, away from public eyes and ears. Correction should never be about humiliation but about healing. By keeping it private, we preserve the dignity of the person and create a safe space for honesty and openness. This is what Jesus teaches — go directly, speak gently, and let the spirit of charity and concern guide your words. Sometimes, a single heartfelt, private conversation can begin the journey of reconciliation. Frank Clark once said: “Criticism like rain should be gentle enough to nourish man’s growth without destroying his roots.” 2. Seek a PARTNER If the private conversation does not bear fruit, Jesus calls us to bring along one or two witnesses (Matthew 18:16). This is not to gang up on the person but to introduce another perspective, another voice of love and truth. A partner helps mediate with patience and fairness. It reminds us that we are responsible for one another in the Body of Christ. Our task is never to condemn but to be compassionate, journeying with them in hope toward restoration. 3. Bring it to the PUBLIC If both private and partnered efforts fail, Jesus says to tell it to the Church. This step involves the wider community in the work of healing. In the public setting of the faith community, we can seek the wisdom, prayer, and collective support of others. The goal remains the same: not punishment, but restoration. The Church becomes the family that calls the erring member back home. NB: If the 3P’s don’t work, bring it to your PRAYERS In the end, some hearts change slowly. If our human efforts reach their limit, we place the person completely into God’s hands. Prayer is where our compassion becomes intercession — lifting the brother or sister to the Lord who alone can touch and transform hearts. As we pray, we also ask God to keep our own hearts free from resentment and filled with His peace. Jesus promises, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” I hold onto this whenever I enter difficult conversations. I remind myself that I am not walking into that moment alone. Christ is there — guiding my words, softening hearts, and turning a painful situation into a moment of grace. And each time I choose the path of reconciliation, I’m not just restoring peace with a brother or sister — I’m stepping into the presence of the One who first reconciled me to God. Blessings Fr. Jhack

COURAGE TO FORGIVE

August 13, 2025 Wednesday within the 19th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 18:15–20 I’ve learned in my own journey that it’s much easier to talk about someone than to talk to them when they hurt us. But Jesus calls me to a higher road — one that’s not always comfortable. He says, “Go and tell him his fault between you and him alone.” That means I have to set aside my pride, my tendency to avoid awkward conversations, and my desire to “win.” The goal is not to prove I’m right, but to win back a brother or sister in Christ. There have been moments in ministry when someone’s words or actions wounded me. My first reaction was to withdraw or keep silent. Yet, when I finally took the courage to speak privately, with a heart that sought healing rather than revenge, something sacred happened. The walls began to come down. That’s when I understood: reconciliation is less about correcting another person and more about allowing God to work on both our hearts. Jesus promises, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” I hold onto this whenever I enter difficult conversations. I remind myself that I am not walking into that moment alone. Christ is there — guiding my words, softening hearts, and turning a painful situation into a moment of grace. And each time I choose the path of reconciliation, I’m not just restoring peace with a brother or sister — I’m stepping into the presence of the One who first reconciled me to God. Blessings Fr. Jhack

BECOMING LIKE A CHILD

August 12, 2025 Tuesday within the the 20th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 18:1–5, 10,12-14 When Jesus says, “Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven” (Mt 18:3), He is not asking us to be childish, but childlike. The difference is profound. Childishness clings to immaturity, self-centeredness, and irresponsibility. Childlikeness, on the other hand, embraces humility, trust, and a sense of wonder before God. A child knows that they cannot survive without someone greater caring for them. They depend completely on their parents for food, shelter, guidance, and love. In the same way, Jesus invites us to depend entirely on our Heavenly Father—not as a last resort when we’ve exhausted our own efforts, but as our first instinct in every joy, struggle, and decision. To “become like a child” is to live without the illusion of self-sufficiency, knowing that every breath, every blessing, and every moment is a gift from God. This way of living also frees us from pride. In the world, greatness often means climbing higher, gathering power, and being served. In the Kingdom, greatness means kneeling lower, serving others, and being small enough for God to lift us. It’s the simplicity of faith that says, “I may not have all the answers, but I trust the One who does.” And when we live this way—trusting, humble, open-hearted—we find ourselves not only entering the Kingdom but already living in its joy. NB: Be like CHILD! C-ontented H- onest I-nnocent L- oyal D-ependent Blessings Fr. Jhack

FORGIVE!

August 14, 2025 Thursday within the 19th week in Ordinary Time: Year C Matthew 18:21–19:1 Forgiveness may be hard, but it is never beyond reach—because God is always here to give us the grace to do it. When Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive, suggesting seven as a generous number, he was thinking within the limits of human fairness. Jesus’ reply—“Not seven times, but seventy times seven” He pulled forgiveness out of the realm of calculation and placed it squarely in the realm of grace. In Scripture, “seventy times seven” is not literal arithmetic but a symbol of completeness, a reflection of God’s own inexhaustible mercy 70 times 7 was not about calculation, but it is about the heart shaped by mercy. In God’s Kingdom, forgiveness is not a rare favor we grant; it is the very air we breathe. To forgive without limit is to participate in the divine nature, for it is God who “is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love” (Ps 103:8). The parable that follows reveals the theological heart of forgiveness: it is always rooted in what we have first received from God. The king’s forgiveness of the servant’s unpayable debt mirrors the grace given to us in Christ. Our sins—an infinite offense against an infinite God—cannot be repaid by human effort. Yet in the cross, God cancels the debt entirely. Therefore, when we withhold mercy from others, we contradict the very grace that has saved us. Forgiveness is not a moral accessory to the Christian life; it is the fruit of salvation and the evidence that we understand the Gospel. To “forgive from the heart” (Mt 18:35) is not to excuse sin or abandon justice; rather, it is to release personal vengeance and entrust judgment to God, whose justice is always infused with mercy. This is a work of the Spirit in us, conforming our hearts to Christ, who from the cross prayed, “Father, forgive them” (Lk 23:34). Each act of forgiveness draws us deeper into the Paschal Mystery—dying to self, rising to new life, and revealing to the world that the Kingdom of God is a kingdom where mercy triumphs over judgment (Jas 2:13). To learn to forgive without limit, then, is to live the Gospel in its purest form, becoming living icons of the mercy we have received. Friends, forgiveness is not the same as forgetfulness, for forgetting is not truly forgiving. Forgiveness is an act of love, and in fact, it is the highest form of love. Never grow weary of forgiving, for true forgiveness knows no boundaries, and mercy has no end. Forgive as often as you can. If you want to uncover the secret to a joyful, healthy, and long life, the key is forgiveness. To live long, forgive daily. To stay healthy, make forgiveness your regular practice. To be truly happy, stop keeping a record of pains and hurts. And if you ever feel tempted to seek revenge, the most powerful way to carry it out is to forgive. Blessings Fr. Jhack

LISTEN TO THE BELOVED SON OF GOD

August 6, 2025 Feast of the Transfiguration Wednesday within the 18th week in Ordinary Time Year C Luke 9::28-36 During Mass, Put Away Your Cellphones. Listen! The Mass is not just any gathering. It is the highest form of prayer—the re-presentation of Christ’s sacrifice to the Father for our salvation. Every moment of the Mass is sacred. Heaven touches earth. God speaks to us through His Word, and gives Himself to us in the Eucharist. That’s why we are called to be fully present—not just in body, but in heart and mind. Yet in today’s world, it often seems easier to lift a cellphone than to lift our hearts to God. How many of us cannot last an hour without checking notifications or scrolling through our feeds? Instead of hearing the Word of God, we are distracted by messages, updates, and noise. The altar is before us, but our attention is elsewhere. Is this not a form of disrespect to the One who gives us His full attention and love? So here is a gentle but firm reminder: During Mass, put away your cellphones. Listen! Set aside the fleeting concerns and digital noise, and offer the Lord your undivided presence. You don’t need a camera to see God; you need a quiet, attentive heart to hear Him. Because in every Mass, God speaks. The question is: are you listening? NB: Jesus did not told Peter to capture the dazzling moment of glory by building tents but to listen. We are not called to build shelters—but were invited to build lives rooted in listening. The Father’s voice did not say: ‘Worship and capture the glory,’ but rather, ‘Listen to My Son.’ Blessings Fr. Jhack

WHO DO YOU SAY THAT I AM

August 7, 2025 Thursday within the 18th week in Ordinary Time: Year C Matthew 16:13–23 In today’s gospel we witness a pivotal moment in Peter’s spiritual journey—a moment that reveals both the heights of divine revelation and the depths of human weakness. When Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?”, Peter steps forward with bold faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” This confession is not born of human insight, but of divine grace, as Jesus affirms: “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” It is upon this confession of faith that Jesus begins to build His Church, entrusting Peter with a foundational role in God’s plan. But Peter’s journey doesn’t stop there—it’s only beginning. Immediately after his great confession, Peter stumbles. When Jesus speaks of His coming suffering and death, Peter rebukes Him—unable to reconcile the idea of a suffering Messiah. Jesus then utters the sobering words: “Get behind me, Satan.” This sharp contrast reveals the tension within every disciple: the desire to follow Jesus, yet the reluctance to embrace the Cross. Peter’s error was not in loving Jesus too little, but in loving Him without understanding the cost of that love. Like many of us, Peter wanted glory without pain, victory without sacrifice. But Jesus invites him—and us—into a deeper transformation, one that comes through suffering, surrender, and spiritual growth. Peter’s journey is ultimately one of transformation—from a man who feared suffering to a man who would later embrace martyrdom. His courage didn’t come from his own strength, but from a relationship with the risen Christ. From confession came calling; from failure came formation. Jesus never gave up on Peter, even when Peter denied Him. Instead, He patiently shaped him into the rock upon which the Church would stand. So too, we are called from confession to courage—from acknowledging who Jesus is to living boldly for Him. This journey is not always easy, but it is filled with grace. For every step we take closer to the Cross, Christ draws us deeper into His love and mission. Blessings Fr. Jhack

WHEN WE OFFER GOD MULTIPLIES

August 4, 2025 Feast of Saint John Vianney Monday within the 18th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 14:13–21 In today’s gospel, Jesus retreats to a deserted place after hearing of John the Baptist’s death, a moment of grief and sorrow. But as the crowds follow Him, His heart, moved with compassion, overrides His fatigue. He heals their sick and feeds their hunger—not only spiritually, but physically. This miracle of the multiplication of loaves and fish is not just about abundance, but about the heart of a true shepherd: one who is broken, yet still chooses to bless. This scene mirrors the priestly heart of St. John Marie Vianney, the humble Curé of Ars. Like Christ, he often sought solitude in prayer and penance, yet always found himself surrounded by people in spiritual hunger. Day after day, hour after hour, he heard confessions, preached, taught, and interceded for souls—feeding them not with bread and fish, but with the Bread of Life and the word of mercy. Just as Jesus told His disciples, “You give them something to eat,” so too did the Lord whisper this same call into the heart of John Vianney. With nothing but a weak body, little education, and great humility, he gave the Church everything he had: his time, his penance, his prayers, his presence. And like the five loaves and two fish, God multiplied his offering. This Gospel reminds us that in the hands of Christ, even our littleness becomes more than enough. St. John Vianney had nothing extraordinary—except a heart completely given to God. And that was enough to feed thousands of souls. Blessings Fr. Jhack

STORM

August 5, 2025 Dedication of the Basilica of Saint Mary Major in Rome Tuesday within the 18th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 14:22–36 Life is full of storms—uncertainties, failures, grief, and fear. Like the disciples in the boat, we often feel tossed by waves beyond our control. In today’s gospel, the sea is rough, the night is dark, and the disciples are afraid. And then, in the midst of their fear, Jesus comes—not in calm weather, but walking on the waves of their chaos. His presence doesn’t remove the storm immediately, but it redefines how they are to face it. “Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.” Jesus reveals that courage is not the absence of storms, but the presence of God in the middle of them. Peter’s boldness is inspiring. He dares to step out of the boat and walk toward Jesus—until he takes his eyes off the Lord. The moment he looks at the wind and waves, fear overwhelms him and he begins to sink. This mirrors our spiritual life: we walk in faith when our gaze is fixed on Christ, but we falter when we focus on the storm. Peter’s failure wasn’t stepping out—it was losing sight of who was in front of him. Yet even then, Jesus reaches out immediately. This is the Gospel: even when our faith wavers, His grace does not. This passage invites us to live with “eyes on Jesus, not the storm.” Faith doesn’t mean the waves will stop crashing. It means we have Someone greater than the waves to hold onto. Real courage comes not from self-confidence but from Christ-confidence—trusting that Jesus is with us in every chaos, and that His hand is always extended when we cry, “Lord, save me!” We do not walk alone. We walk with the One who treads on storms. Blessings Fr. Jhack

ALL US VANITY WITHOUT GOD

August 3, 2025 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C Luke 12:13–21 “All is vanity.” This haunting phrase from Ecclesiastes echoes loudly in today’s Gospel. The rich man who stored up grain for himself thought he had everything: security, comfort, and success. Yet Jesus calls him a fool, not for being wealthy, but for failing to recognize that his soul did not belong to him. That night, his life would be taken—and all his plans, possessions, and pride would vanish like smoke. His mistake was not in building barns, but in building a life apart from God. Greed is not just about money; it is a condition of the soul that always wants more, even when it already has enough. It blinds the heart, creating a hunger that nothing on earth can satisfy. As Jesus warns, “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Greed takes us away from God not just because it makes us selfish, but because it makes us forget who the true Giver is. It replaces trust in Divine Providence with anxiety and control. It makes us live as if this world is all there is, and eternity is just a shadow. Saint Paul reminds us in Colossians 3:2, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” Real blessings do not rot, rust, or pass away. They are found in the fruit of the Spirit, in love, in mercy, in generosity, and in a heart anchored in God. To be “rich toward God” is to be rich in things that are eternal, not earthly. It is to put to death whatever in us is earthly—greed, selfishness, pride—and to live for what lasts: holiness, charity, and communion with God. CONCLUSION: Friends, remember this: life is not measured by riches. Let go of pir earhly luggage and choose Christ over comfort. Why? Because the death of greed is the birth of grace. Put to death what is earthly in us. The earthly cannot hold the eternal because all is vanity without God. Short prayer: Lord, teach us to recognize that all is vanity without You. Detach us from the treasures that perish, and anchor us in the riches of Your grace. May our lives not be full of barns but full of faith. Help us set our hearts on Heaven, and live each day ready to meet You. Amen. Blessings Fr. Jhack

SAD STORIES OF LIFE

Once upon a time, we dreamed of having more—more money, more success, more comfort. And somehow, we got what we wished for. We now have more possessions than ever, but fewer values to guide us. We own the latest gadgets, drive shiny cars, and decorate our lives with things we once only dreamed of. But deep inside, something is missing. We became so busy chasing wealth that we forgot how to be good. We spend more now than ever before. We swipe cards, book flights, and upgrade our lives with a click. But somehow, we enjoy less. Our joys are short-lived, our celebrations feel hollow, and even the happiest moments are quickly forgotten. We spend more—on clothes, travels, food deliveries, subscriptions—yet we enjoy life less. The laughter doesn’t last long. The excitement fades quickly. The heart remains restless. We serve more food on our tables, yet our bodies are weaker and sicker. We feast but are not nourished. Our diets are full, but our souls are starving. We feast, but still feel empty. We are surrounded by flavor but lacking in fulfillment. Our houses are bigger, brighter, and more stylish—but they are no longer homes. Parents live like roommates. Children retreat into their screens. Doors close, and so do hearts. Families live together, but love is miles apart. Families are near in distance, but far in affection. We earn more. We climb corporate ladders. But our morals decline. Dishonesty is tolerated. Lust is glamorized. Integrity is optional. We trade virtue for convenience, and we call it progress. Yes, these are the sad stories of our life. We thought more meant better. But in gaining the world, we risked losing our souls. Progress is not evil—but progress without purpose leads to emptiness. Comfort is not sinful—but when comfort replaces character, we lose our way. So today, let us pause. Let us choose values over vanity. Meaning over materialism. Faith over fame. And let us remember: the greatest treasures are not found in what we own, but in what we become. Blessings Fr. Jhack

NOT FOR ME BUT FOR THEE

July 31, 2025 St. Ignatius of Loyola “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam” At the heart of Christian discipleship lies this ancient and powerful phrase: “For the greater glory of God.” It is not simply a motto—it is a way of life, a lens through which every action, word, and decision is filtered. Rooted in the spirituality of St. Ignatius of Loyola and the Jesuit tradition, this expression challenges us to live not for ourselves, our comfort, or our recognition, but to offer everything for God’s honor and purpose. In the end, that’s all that truly matters: that we lived, not for applause, but for the greater glory of God. To live for the greater glory of God means that even our smallest actions—when done with love, humility, and integrity—become a form of worship. It’s not about grand achievements or public success. It’s about aligning our will with His, even when no one sees it. When we choose to forgive, to serve quietly, to endure trials with hope, or to speak the truth in love, we glorify God. His light shines not just in churches and sanctuaries but in our ordinary moments, when they are touched by extraordinary grace. This phrase also invites a deep humility: it reminds us that the world doesn’t revolve around us, and that our talents, opportunities, and even our sufferings have a purpose beyond ourselves. When our lives are surrendered to God’s glory, we become instruments of His peace, His justice, His love. And in doing so, we echo the life of Christ Himself—who, in all things, lived and died not for personal gain, but so that the world may know the Father. That is the call: not just to live well, but to live for something greater. For Someone greater. Blessings Fr. Jhack

REJECTION

August 1, 2025 First Friday of the Month Matthew 13:54-58 There’s a quiet heartbreak in today’s Gospel: Jesus returns to His hometown, not with grandeur, but with grace, and He is met not with welcome, but with rejection. The people who knew Him best—who watched Him grow, who perhaps even played with Him as a child—couldn’t accept that something divine could come from someone so ordinary. Their hearts were closed not because of what He taught, but because they couldn’t let go of who they thought He was. “Isn’t this the carpenter’s son?” They couldn’t believe that holiness could wear a familiar face. This story speaks to every one of us who has ever been doubted, dismissed, or underestimated by those closest to us. It reminds us that even Jesus, the Son of God, was not immune to rejection. And yet, He didn’t allow their unbelief to define His mission. He kept moving forward, teaching, healing, and loving—knowing that the truth doesn’t lose its power just because some refuse to see it. Sometimes the people who know our past can’t accept our growth. But God sees what others overlook, and His call remains firm, even through the pain of being misunderstood. Ultimately, this Gospel is an invitation to open our eyes to the sacred hiding in the ordinary. How often do we miss God’s presence because it doesn’t come in the way we expect? Let us not fall into the same trap as those in Nazareth. Let us believe that God still speaks—through ordinary people, in familiar places, and often in the most unexpected ways. When we choose faith over familiarity, miracles can happen. Christ is always passing by—may we have the eyes to recognize Him and the heart to receive Him. Blessings Fr. Jhack

THE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE

July 30, 2025 Wednesday within the 17th week in Ordinary Time Year C Mt 13:44-46 In these two parables, Jesus compares the Kingdom of Heaven to something so valuable that it’s worth giving up everything else to obtain it. The first man stumbles upon a hidden treasure in a field; the second is a merchant who has been searching for fine pearls and finally finds the one of greatest value. Whether by surprise or through long seeking, both men recognize the worth of what they’ve found—and they respond radically: with joy, they sell all they have to possess it. Theologically, these parables teach that the Kingdom of God is not one treasure among many—it is the treasure. It is the reality of life with God, communion with Christ, and eternal joy in His presence. But it also reveals a truth that is both beautiful and demanding: the Kingdom is free, but it will cost us everything. Not in payment, but in priority. We cannot cling to the world and fully embrace the Kingdom. The man and the merchant were not hesitant—they acted decisively. This is the call of discipleship: a joyful surrender for something far greater. What Is Your Treasure? This Gospel challenges us: What is my hidden treasure? What is my pearl? What in my life am I unwilling to let go of, even for the sake of God’s will? It’s not about selling our possessions literally—it’s about selling our attachments, breaking free from false securities, and making God our true joy. When we finally encounter the love of Christ—through prayer, through conversion, through suffering, or through the witness of others—we realize: This is what I’ve been looking for all along. And nothing else compares. Blessings Fr. Jhack

FEAST OF ST. MARTHA

July 29, 2025 Feast of Sts. Martha, Mary and Lazarus John 11:19–27 In Scripture, Bethany is not just a location—it is a sacred symbol of love, hospitality, and deep faith. Its name means House of Charity, and true to that name, it became a home where Jesus was welcomed not just with affection but with believing hearts. In the face of her brother Lazarus’s death, Martha emerges as a woman of profound faith, declaring to Jesus, “Even now I know that whatever you ask of God, He will give you.” Her statement is powerful because it rises out of grief, not certainty, proving that faith is not the absence of pain but trust in the midst of it. Martha’s faith reminds us that God listens even in our most desperate moments. Her trust turned Bethany into a place where the impossible became possible. She didn’t demand a miracle, but she believed that even death was not beyond God’s power. And Jesus responded—not only by raising Lazarus but by revealing Himself as the Resurrection and the Life. This moment is not just about Lazarus—it’s about each of us learning to trust that God’s timing is never late and that His love is never powerless. Faith, even in its smallest expression, opens the door to miracles. Faith has a name, I called her Martha! Bethany teaches us that miracles begin in hearts that believe. If God answered Martha, He can and will answer us too. Our struggles, like Lazarus’s tomb, may seem closed and final, but God still speaks life into what seems lifeless. Let us bring our fears, our losses, our waiting prayers into this house of charity, trusting that God sees, hears, and responds in love. Faith makes the impossible possible—not because we are worthy, but because God is faithful. Blessings Fr. Jhack