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

MUSTARD SEED

July 28, 2025 Monday within the 17th in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 13:31–35 In this Gospel passage, Jesus presents two powerful images—the mustard seed and the yeast—to reveal something essential about the nature of the Kingdom of God. Both images speak of smallness, hiddenness, and transformation. In the mustard seed, we see the paradox of divine power: the smallest of seeds becomes a great tree. In the yeast, we encounter the quiet but total transformation of the dough. These are not just agricultural metaphors—they are theological truths about how God works. The Kingdom of God does not begin with spectacle or force. It begins with the seemingly insignificant—a whisper of hope, a hidden act of love, a seed of grace planted in the heart. This is a profound revelation about the nature of God’s reign: it is not imposed from above but grows from within. God’s way is not domination but transformation. The mustard seed reminds us of the power of small beginnings; the yeast reminds us that true change is internal and pervasive. Theologically, this reflects the kenosis of Christ—God emptying Himself to take the form of a servant (Phil 2:7). The Kingdom follows the same pattern: from humility comes glory. Moreover, Jesus’ use of parables fulfills what was spoken through the prophets—revealing truths hidden from the foundation of the world. This highlights another key theological point: revelation is progressive. God reveals the mystery of His Kingdom not in an instant, but in time, through experience, and often in parables that require openness and contemplation. The seed and the yeast are not just signs of growth; they are invitations to trust in the hidden work of grace. We may not always see the results, but if we remain faithful, we can be assured that God’s Kingdom is growing—within us, among us, and through us. Blessings Fr. Jhack

BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO LISTEN

July 24, 2025 Thursday within the 16th week in Ordinary Time Year C Matthew 13:10–17 Today’s gospel brings us into the reality of how we perceive and process truth. When the disciples ask Jesus why He speaks in parables, He essentially says that people see and hear, but not all are truly receptive. This speaks to a deeper reality: our minds and hearts filter what we allow ourselves to believe. Just as past wounds, pride, or fear can cloud our relationships with others, they can also block our openness to God. Many hear the Word, but few allow it to penetrate beyond the surface. Personally, we tend to resist what threatens our comfort zones. The parables of Jesus, while seemingly simple stories, challenge assumptions, confront illusions, and invite transformation. But transformation requires self-awareness and surrender—both of which can be frightening. That’s why Jesus says, “They look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.” He’s not condemning them but describing a common human defense: the tendency to shut down when truth becomes too personal or too uncomfortable. This Gospel reminds us that spiritual understanding requires not just faith, but emotional honesty and inner freedom. To truly “see” and “hear” in the spiritual sense means allowing God to bypass our ego defenses and touch the deeper layers of the soul. It is a daily choice to stay open, to reflect, and to let grace heal what blocks our vision. In a noisy, anxious world, the quiet soul becomes the fertile ground where the Word can finally take root. Blessings Fr. Jhack