Salt & Light

 

                                  Reviresco, Rivendale Frozen Waterfalls by Fr. Matt

You know, there's something fascinating about today's Gospel. Jesus uses two of the most ordinary, everyday things imaginable - salt and light - to tell us who we are as his followers. Not exotic spices or dazzling fireworks, but simple salt and simple light.

And here's what strikes me: both salt and light have this interesting quality. They're meant to be noticed, yes, but not as the main attraction. Think about it - when was the last time you sat down to a meal and said, "Wow, this salt is amazing!" No, you say, "This chicken is delicious!" The salt did its job by making the chicken taste better, but nobody's really focused on the salt itself.

Same with light. We don't turn on a lamp and then just stare at the bulb. We turn it on so we can read a book, see a painting, find our way across a room. The light reveals something else - something more important than the light itself.

That's exactly what Jesus is getting at when he tells us, "You are the salt of the earth" and "You are the light of the world." He's saying: your purpose is to point beyond yourself. Your life is meant to reveal something - or rather, Someone - greater than you.

But here's the challenge Jesus presents: salt can lose its taste, and a lamp can be hidden under a basket. In other words, we can fail to be what we are. We can become Christians who don't actually make any difference in the world around us.

So what does it look like to really be salt and light? I think it's simpler than we sometimes make it. It means living in such a way that when people encounter us, they get a taste of God's goodness. When they see our lives, they catch a glimpse of God's love.

This past week, six household items needed repair. The light in Sue’s study has been flickering for months, the shelves need sanding from kitty urine, my bathroom faucet was leaking, the porch outlet was sparking, the washer was beeping randomly and worse the copier cartridge was jammed. On top of all this mess, it was minus 3 degrees this morning, minus 26 wind chill and I have plowed over 110 inches snow this year.

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Now I had a choice, I can be cranky and rattled, but instead I choose to contact friends who are blessed with amazing skills. First, I called Brad my builder who sent me Tucker, his carpenter and plumber. With a tweak here and a twist there, the light is working, the shelves are polyurethane, the faucet stem is not leaking and the electric outlet is replaced and safe. The appliance dealer sent me Jake and he replaced the washer computer board. But the copier, well Ben and Shasa spent 3 hours on the phone to upload a new operating system, but the copier still wouldn’t work. I contacted a Canon dealer, Adim a Lebanese Orthodox, kindly reviewed their steps and got the printer to work, but later it failed to print. On Saturday, I made my fourth call to AppleCare and Chris from Tennessee who has used Apple since the 90’s got the printing working again. This old religious guy needs to find a good IT expert. Any suggestions friends?

 

What does it really mean to be salt and light? It happens in the most ordinary ways. When you show patience with a difficult coworker, you're being salt - you're making that workplace environment a little more bearable, a little more human. When you take time to listen to a friend who's struggling, you're being light - you're helping this retired priest to make repairs in his home and get him through the darkness.

However, Jesus doesn't say, "Let your light shine so people will praise you." No - let your light shine so that people will glorify your Father in heaven. The attention goes to God, not to us.

This is where we can get it wrong sometimes. We can do good things but make it all about us - about how generous we are, how committed we are, how much better we are than those other people who aren't doing what we're doing. When that happens, we've become the main course instead of the seasoning. We've become the object to stare at instead of the light that reveals something else.

My friends who made these repairs helped restore my sanity. They were the salt and light in my life. I am grateful for Brad, Tucker, Jake, Ben, Shasa, Adim and Chris whose light shines brightly because they chose to share their God-given talents to heal the broken light, washer, faucet, outlet and printer.

This week I was asked to: help find a children’s book about grief, provide an online grief support group, find a home health aide for my senior neighbor, a trauma counselor for a senior victim of violence, resources for a caregiver with a family member with dementia, counsel a firefighter with suicidal thoughts, counsel a working mom with teenage daughters coping with divorce, help a dad locate services for his young adult autistic son, provide onsite critical incident services to employees whose coworker died, publish immigration guidelines for pastors to protect Hispanic parishioners from deportation, and pray for all my Sonshine Friends

For you, maybe it was a neighbor who helped you through a difficult time. Maybe it was someone who simply showed you kindness when you needed it most. What made them memorable? Probably not that they drew attention to themselves, but that through them, you experienced something of God's goodness. That's what we're called to be for others. Not impressive or spectacular, necessarily, but genuinely helpful. Not calling attention to ourselves, but pointing toward God's love.

Here's what I find both challenging and encouraging about this: Jesus doesn't say, "Try really hard to become salt and light." He says, "You ARE the salt of the earth. You ARE the light of the world." It's already who we are by virtue of our baptism. The question is whether we're going to live into that identity or hide it.

When we let our light shine - when we live generously, compassionately, honestly - we're not earning God's love or trying to impress anyone. We're simply being what we already are: Christ's presence in the world.

And here's the beautiful part: when we do this, when we really live as salt and light, it's not a burden. Salt doesn't strain to give flavor; it just does. Light doesn't work hard to illuminate; it naturally reveals what's around it. When we're living in union with Christ, being salt and light becomes natural too. It flows from who we are.

So as you go through this week, pay attention to the opportunities right in front of you. Someone needs encouragement - give it. Someone needs help - offer it. Someone needs to see kindness - show it. These simple acts of love are how you season the world with God's goodness. These everyday choices are how you let your light shine.

And don't worry about whether people notice you or thank you or even recognize what you've done. That's not the point. The point is that through your life - through your ordinary, daily choices to love and serve - people encounter something of God's presence in the world.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends to be what you are. You are salt - so give flavor. You are light - so let it shine. Not for your own glory, but so that others might taste and see that the Lord is good.

 

 

 

 

 

Our Country Could Use a Little Mercy Now

  

Trying to cover Beatitudes in one message is kind of like that old book the one minute manager because what makes the Beatitudes so special is how powerful, how unique each one is.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.  Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Some people find the beatitudes offensive – “I don’t like them, they make us sound like a bunch of wimps.” Blessed are the meek. Some people are offended by them. That’s OK, lots of folks find the gospel offensive. Try to be persecuted or meek – “I rather just do what everyone says, woe is me.” However, Jesus is assuring us of vindication on the last day – giving hope. Suffer and work and act on behalf of God in this lifetime, God will vindicate you in end.

So ask yourself: which one of these Beatitudes do you think is most important? 

Poor in Spirit – we immediately imagine Mother Teresa, tirelessly touching, serving, loving in the streets of Calcutta, but I would add my friends at Volunteers4Animals welcoming abandoned newborn kittens or an older kitty surrendered at the shelter because its owner had died. We might think of mourners – people whose loved ones have died, caregivers of family member with dementia, or neighbors mourning a neighbor killed protesting for democracy. What about the meek? – folks behind the scenes, get no credit even though they work hard. I’m thinking about our volunteer firefighters and EMTs who were working during the recent snow storm. Or, 80 year olds freezing in the cold protesting to protect our constitution.

Could certainly be hunger and thirst for righteousness – tough thing to do – like Sister Julia feeding the hungry in Rochester. or the people in Minnesota and cities around the country protesting the murder of innocent citizens or protecting children in their schools. They could make a strong argument that this is most important.

Maybe it’s the Pure in heart – these folks know that what really makes a difference is the heart – where a decision to serve God is made. Jesus said clean up the inside of your cup and the outside will be clean. 

Speaking of putting lives on line, what about the persecuted?  The population of this country who are trying to save this democracy by peaceful protest, speech and political change. Members of the clergy in Minnesota arrested for their peaceful protest of the murders of  Renee Nicole Wood and Alex Pretti.

Then there’s the peacemakers too – not just keeping the peace but making it. People in all our states occupied by federal agents trying to bring peace to the streets of their cities. Peaceful, relentless protests. No, we are not going to let you build a prison camp for immigrants and their children in our city. Ask yourself, what are you doing to say no?

Which of these is most important?

Me? I say it’s the merciful – the more I look at Jesus’ life and at the Gospel of Matthew, I see a life immersed and saturated in mercy. A king forgives his servant who then won’t forgive another – delivered to jail – so also will the Father do – have some mercy. Some kids come and Jesus says these are God’s people – do not lead one astray or else – no one else wanted them around – tender hearted mercy. The workers in the vineyard – begrudge the owner’s generosity – my mercy. The lame and blind come to him in the temple and he heals them. Prostitutes and tax collectors get in before the unrepentant – mercy for all. Sheep and goats separated by who showed mercy to the naked and prisoner.

Jesus was a man saturated in mercy – in everything he did or said. My hunch is in the Beatitudes, he is calling us to be like Him. Not talking about being some kind of superhero, renowned scholar, celebrity, missionary to China. Simply talking about being a Christian – defending the powerless, the voiceless, the immigration crackdown, one Holy Moment at a time.

God has shown you great mercy – by all means, please share it. Because, Lord knows, our country could use a little mercy right now.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who are exhausted by another snow storm or the storms in our country’s city and streets. Give us a heart like yours, and share a little mercy right now.

 

Have You Caught Anybody Lately?

 

You know, I have to admit something to you this morning. When I was about ten years old, my parents used to take me on vacation to Cape Vincent, a small cottage fishing village along the St. Lawrence River. My father knew a coworker who had built a home there and invited us to go fishing with him out on the river. The only problem was that Matty's tummy couldn't handle the ride. Once our guide found the spot where the fish were biting, we'd sit in the boat with our fishing lines in the water, waiting for a nibble. But the boat would be bobbling up and down in the water, and my insides would be bobbling up and down until I became seasick and they'd have to take me back to shore.

For me, fishing was always something old retired guys did off the pier. You know the type – bring a deck chair, drink a few beers, maybe fall asleep with your rod in the water. But fishing for a living? That's a whole different story. As I got older, I began to understand what real fishing meant in the ancient world. It was brutal, back-breaking work. The bleeding hands, the sheer danger of a life on the ocean, the long hours away from home – these fishermen weren't having a leisurely afternoon by the water. They were engaged in hard, uncertain labor just to put food on the table.

So when we hear in today's Gospel that Jesus walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees Peter and Andrew casting their nets, we need to understand what he's really asking of them. He says, "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." And immediately – Matthew tells us *immediately* – they left their nets and followed him.

Now, here's what strikes me about this. These men were leaving a life that was brutal, hard, and fairly uncertain. But what were they trading it for? A life that would be brutal, hard, completely uncertain, and would end in martyrdom for most of them! Notice how Matthew begins this whole section – he tells us that John the Baptist has been arrested. Jesus is starting his ministry with a warning sign flashing right in front of him: "This path leads to danger."

So why would they do it? Either they were really desperate to get out of the fishing business, or there was something about Jesus that compelled them to change their identities and embrace a completely new way of life.

Here's my question for all of us today: Have you caught anybody lately?

I know, I know – that sounds pushy. You might be thinking, "Father, I don't want to force my faith on anybody. I don't think religion should be something you wear on your sleeve." And I get that. We don't want to be obnoxious or intrusive. But if we're honest with ourselves, this might not be a sign of our great humility. Rather, we know it's a risk to intrude into anyone else's life and try to talk with them about important matters.

Or maybe you're thinking, "I'm just not that good at talking about my faith. I don't know the right words to use." I understand that too. But notice what Jesus actually says to these fishermen. He doesn't tell them, "Come follow me and I will teach you to have intelligent religious discussions." He doesn't say, "I'll make you great preachers" or "I'll turn you into theologians." Rather, his expectations are much more practical. He says, "I will make you fishers of men." He builds on something they already know how to do.

Think about that for a moment. Jesus takes their ordinary skills – their knowledge of nets and boats and patience and persistence – and transforms them into tools for the kingdom of God. He doesn't ask them to become something completely different. He asks them to bring who they already are into his service.

The same is true for us. We each have skills, experiences, relationships, and gifts that Jesus can use. Maybe you're good at listening. Maybe you're skilled at organizing. Maybe you have a gift for making people feel welcome. Maybe you've been through difficult times and can offer hope to others who are struggling. Jesus can take all of that and use it to draw people closer to him.

Sometimes I think being the Catholic Church today can feel like being an ancient fisherman. It can be brutal, hard, and uncertain. The fish don't always seem to be swimming our way. And the fish already in the net have so many reasons to try and tear themselves loose – there's pain, sickness, family issues, fear, disillusionment with the Church itself. We can feel like we're working hard and not catching much.

But here's what we can't forget: Jesus didn't promise his first disciples that fishing for people would be easy. He promised that he would be with them. "I will make you fishers of men" – *I* will do it. Not you alone, but *I* working through you.

Most of us got here to this church through fairly ordinary means. Our parents brought us when we were young. A friend invited us. Someone we worked with mentioned their faith community. These weren't dramatic, blinding-light conversions. They were simple invitations extended and accepted. And that's usually how it works.

So when's the last time you invited someone to come with you to Mass? When's the last time you mentioned to a coworker that your parish has a great program for their kids? When's the last time you offered to pray for someone who was going through a difficult time? These are simple things – casting the net, if you will.

You know what people say when they're asked why they're not active in a church? The number one reason is: no one ever asked me. Think about that. We're not talking about people who are hostile to faith. We're talking about people who are just waiting for an invitation.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends, help us to see the opportunities he's placing before us this week. Maybe there's someone at work who needs encouragement. Maybe there's a neighbor who's going through a hard time. Maybe there's a family member who's drifted away from the Church and just needs someone to reach out with love and without judgment. We're all fishers now. Jesus has called us by name, just as he called Peter and Andrew. The question is: will we leave our nets and follow him? Will we let him transform our ordinary gifts into tools for his kingdom?

"$9,000 in Debt"

Little Tonawanda Creek in Winter 

Photo by Fr. Matt

      

A young hard working single mom was told by her coworker to come see me. She heard that I might be helpful in locating some resources.

 

This mom has a 10 year old son and her older sister lives with her in the home and requires daily treatments for a medical condition. However, she owned $9,000 in back utility payments. There has been no heat in her home for the past three months. The electric was turned back on so that  her sister could continue her medical treatments. However, her furnace and oven were not working. When she called the utility company to recommend a payment plan they told her she would have to pay the full amount before the heat could be turned back on.

$9,000 in debt, no heat in the house so does that mean we need to start a “Go Fund Me” page. Instead, I called 211, the county referral resource center and the customer service agent suggested to contact HEAP (Home Energy Assistance Program). This mom did call HEAP and because she works two jobs, they told her that she was not eligible because she makes “too much money.” Really, single mom, works two jobs for non-profit agency, caregiver to her child and sister and still doesn’t qualify.

What’s the next option? 211 agent suggests to contact NYS Temporary Assistance Program. Once again, this mom had applied and she was told that she doesn’t quality.

So I checked the RGE customer service website and found a section entitled “Payment Arrangements.” Our distressed mom discovered that her heat had never been turned off despite the fact she owed $9,000. However, if she did not pay by January 22 her utilities would be shut off. Then the kind agent (guardian angel) said wait, while she consulted with her supervisor and came back to ask some questions. I thanked the agent for her patience and understanding and when she came back on the phone she asked mom questions about mom’s income and bills. After 10 minutes of getting background information about her incomes and monthly bills, the agent returned to the phone and told mom: “YOU QUALIFY.”

What this meant was that her utility account would be zeroed out to nothing and that $10 would be added to each bill moving forward. Her monthly bill would be about $130 which mom could pay. There would be no balance on her current account. Our “guardian angel” customer service lady told mom to contact the landlord to check that her pilot lights were working and if not call the utility company to come and turn them back on. Also, the agent recommended to mom to call her sister’s doctor and request the office to fax back verification of her sister’s medical condition that required utilities be turned on for the lack of energy would agitate her medical condition.

Needless to say, I expressed our gratitude to this customer service lady who “saved the day” and hopefully the heat would be back on tonight so that her child and sister would be warm and healthy.

Lords, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends whose “guardian angels”: are looking out for us during desperate times. We are grateful for all their extra time and going beyond the call of duty. They are a sign of your love and compassion for all your children in desperate times.

Exerpt from my Homily for the Ordination of Deacon John to the Priesthood

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, what a glorious day this is! We gather today to witness something truly remarkable – the ordination of Deacon John to the sacred priesthood. And the Gospel we've just heard about Jesus' baptism in the Jordan couldn't be more fitting for this occasion.

You know, when I first read this Gospel passage in preparation for today, I found myself puzzling over the same question that has perplexed Christians for centuries: Why would Jesus, who was without sin, need to be baptized? John the Baptist himself was confused by this! He protested, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?" It seems almost backwards, doesn't it?

But as I reflected on this mystery, and as I thought about what we're celebrating today with Father John's ordination, I began to see the profound connections between Christ's baptism and what happens when a man is ordained to the priesthood.

Let me share with you what I believe are four crucial dimensions of Jesus' baptism that speak directly to us today – and especially to Father John as he begins his priestly ministry.

First, Jesus' baptism was a moment of decision. He knew that the time had come to begin his public ministry. He was stepping forward, making himself known, committing himself to the mission the Father had given him. In the same way, Father John's ordination is a moment of profound decision. He has discerned, prayed, prepared, and now he steps forward to say "yes" to God's call in a definitive way. This isn't a casual commitment – it's a total gift of self.

Second, it was a moment of identification. This is perhaps the most beautiful aspect of Christ's baptism. Although Jesus himself had no need to repent for sins, he wanted to identify himself completely with sinners – with us! He was willing to stand in the waters of the Jordan alongside tax collectors, prostitutes, and all manner of people seeking God's mercy. He was saying, in effect, "I am one with you. Your struggles are my struggles. Your humanity is my humanity." 

Christ became one like us to enter totally and completely into our humanity in every way but sin. He can understand our weaknesses, our failures, our temptations and our sorrows, as well as our joys, successes and accomplishments. He paid the full price for us, right up front when he died on the cross for us.

And isn't this exactly what a priest does? Father John, through your ordination, you are configured to Christ in a special way. You identify yourself with God's people – all of them. The sick and the healthy, the joyful and the sorrowful, the saint and the sinner. You will stand with them in their moments of greatest need, bringing Christ's presence to them.

Third, Jesus' baptism was a moment of approval. Listen again to those powerful words from heaven: "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased." At the very beginning of his public ministry, the Father spoke his approval and affirmation. Father John, at your ordination yesterday, when Bishop John laid hands on you and invoked the Holy Spirit, God was speaking his approval over you as well. You are called, you are chosen, you are loved by God.

And fourth, it was a moment of empowerment. The Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus like a dove, anointing him for his mission. He would proclaim good news to the poor, liberty to captives, sight to the blind. He would confront the forces of power and injustice. He would bring God's kingdom to earth.

Father John, you too have been empowered by the Holy Spirit through your ordination. You didn't lay down on that floor yesterday because it was comfortable, or because you were tired! You didn't make those promises because you would gain anything in return. You did all that, first and foremost, because God asked you to. And now the Holy Spirit will enable you to be Christ's hands and voice in this world.

But here's what I want all of us to remember today: What happened at Jesus' baptism, and what happened at Father John's ordination, is connected to what happened at our own baptism. Through baptism, we all become children of God. We are identified as adopted sons and daughters, no longer children of darkness but children of light. We become known by the name "Christian" – that is, followers of Christ. God accepts us as his own and sends his Holy Spirit upon us.

 

Being a child of God made a difference in Father John's vocation, but what difference does it make in our lives? How do we live out our baptismal identity?

We witness to God's presence through our daily interactions with others. We bring Christ's compassion and mercy into our homes, our workplaces, our communities. We stand with those who suffer. We speak up for justice. We offer comfort to the grieving and hope to the despairing.

This world desperately needs the priesthood, yes. But it also desperately needs baptized Christians who take their identity seriously. The world needs witnesses who know how to love.  

 

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that like Father John who accepted your invitation to serve is an inspiration to all of us to speak up for justice, comfort to the grieving and hope to those who despair.

 

 

 

 

Our Search Wil Not Be in Vain

 

You know, when we think about the story of the Epiphany, our minds naturally gravitate toward those exotic travelers from the East – the Magi. And why wouldn't they? They're fascinating figures who've captured our imagination for two thousand years. But I want us to consider something this morning that might seem a bit counterintuitive. I want us to think about why the shepherds, that other group in our Christmas narrative, never quite captured our hearts in the same way.

Have you ever wondered about that? We have elaborate legends about the Magi – their names, their ages, their kingdoms. We've painted them, sculpted them, written songs about them. But the shepherds? They show up, they see the baby, and then they sort of fade into the background of our collective memory. Why is that?

I think Matthew gives us a clue in today's Gospel. Look at what the Magi experience. They see a star – just a star, nothing more. No angelic announcement. No heavenly choir. No detailed directions. Just a celestial light that suggests something significant has happened somewhere. And so they set out on this long, dangerous journey with nothing but that astronomical observation and their own faith to guide them.

Compare that to Luke's shepherds. Those shepherds are practically spoon-fed the entire experience. An angel appears to them – not a distant star, but a personal messenger – and this angel tells them everything: "Today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger." I mean, they get GPS coordinates! And when they arrive, there's angelic verification. And when they leave, there's a whole heavenly chorus singing them home.

No wonder we don't tell stories about the shepherds. They didn't really have to search. They didn't have to struggle with doubt or uncertainty. They didn't have to interpret signs or wonder if they were on the right path. Everything was handed to them on a silver platter, so to speak.

But that's not our experience, is it? That's not how faith works for most of us. We don't get detailed instructions from heaven. We don't get angels showing up at our bedsides telling us exactly what to do with our lives, our families, our vocations. We don't get heavenly choirs confirming that we've made the right decision.

No, our experience is much more like the Magi. We see signs – subtle, ambiguous signs – and we have to decide whether to follow them. We have questions about life's meaning, about suffering, about God's will. We face obstacles – our modern Herods who try to distract us or lead us astray with with empty promises, with the culture's competing values. We wonder about our children's futures, about illness, about loneliness, about death. And we'd love to have those shepherd-style assurances, but the fact is, most of us don't.

At this time of the year, of course, we are interested in a certain group of travelers in that desert, travelers conjured up by Matthew to provide all generations with an ancient insight to the Child who was about to be born, that this Child was indeed for all ages, for all peoples, for all places, for all times. From north to south, from east to west, God is Emmanuel, "with us."

But here's what I find most compelling about the Magi: they searched together. They didn't make this journey alone. They traveled as a community, supporting one another through the desert, encouraging one another when the way was unclear, pooling their wisdom to interpret the signs they encountered.

And that's the lesson for us, isn't it? We can't be shepherds – we can't expect everything to be revealed to us clearly and unambiguously. But we can be like the Magi. We can be searchers who journey together.

Think about it: when we gather in a church. we're not just a collection of individuals. We're a caravan. We're a pilgrim people. We listen to the Word together. We break bread together. We support one another through life's deserts. There's a strength in that communal searching that we simply cannot achieve on our own.

The Magi didn't have all the answers when they set out. They had a wicked king trying to manipulate them for evil purposes. They had a long, uncertain journey ahead of them. But what they did have was fellowship with one another and that light – however distant and mysterious – to guide them forward.

But here's the best part of the Magi story, the part that gives me hope: at the end of their long journey, they found what they were looking for. They encountered the Christ child. Their search was rewarded. Their faith was vindicated. Their long journey through the desert wasn't in vain.

And that's the promise for us too. We may not be shepherds with clear instructions and angelic messengers. We may be Magi, struggling through the desert with only a distant star and our faith community to guide us. But if we keep searching, if we keep journeying together, if we keep following that light – however dim it sometimes seems – we will find what we're looking for. We will encounter Christ. Our search will not be in vain.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends in this New Year of 2026, that we support one another on this journey. Let's keep our eyes on that star, trusting that it will lead us home. And let's remember that we're not alone – we have each other, we have the Church, and we have the promise that those who seek will find.

 

New Year's Resolution

 

Christmas at Divine Mercy Parish, Las Vegas

 

After my return from Divine Mercy Church in Las Vegas, where we celebrated 11 Masses in 7 days for the Feast of Gaudaloupe, Third Sunday of Advent, Memorial service, Funeral service and birthday party, I was asked to celebrate Christmas Eve Mass at the cathedral. A record100 people attended the service in which I preached that Christmas is "about a baby" which was my Sonshine message for Christmas.

Now as we approach another New Year, let me offer this reflection.

“Stay positive about the future.”  Some of you have known losses in the past year. You’ve lost a spouse; you’ve lost a child; you’ve lost health; you’ve lost relationships; you’ve lost your job; you’ve lost your house, your church was sold, you lost part of your pension -  all sorts of losses.

But you do have a choice about these losses. Your choice is either you turn in on yourself, and become depressed about it, or you can follow the example of others, who have turned tragedy into a positive thing. I think, for example, of Fr Erick and the people who worship at Divine Mercy in Las Vegas. The congregation first pastor was a media superstar. He had 22 million followers on FaceBook. Wherever he went in Vegas he was greeted like a celebrity. People came from California and Washington states to receive his blessings. Then sadly, he betrayed his people by scamming the congregation out of their building. Thanks to the faith, perserverance  and tenacity of their parish committee, the congregation was able to recuperate some of their donations but the court ordered the congregation to move out of the building. Thanks to Fr. Erick, he literally moved the altar, tabernacle, communion rail, pulpit and chairs to a new location to worship and serve the community. The consequence of this ordeal is that this congregation is better than ever thanks to their sacrifices and dedication to serve their community. In Advent they raised thousands of dollars to feed the homeless in their community. So, despite the lost of their building, the people never lost faith thanks to their inspired new pastor and now better for that experience. Pointing to Christ means “to stay positive about the future.”    

On January 10^th, deacon John will be ordained a priest for the PNCC at Holy Mother of the Rosary Cathedral in Lancaster, NY. He is man who has served as a Catholic deacon for decades. However, he felt the vocation to serve in the priesthood and I have served as his vocation director. Instead of a lost dream, he looks forwards to kneeling before the bishop to receive the Holy Spirit in which he will say yes, like the blessed Mother “I am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be done to me according to your word.”

This coming year, I have another four men who have requested to serve as deacons or priests. It is my calling to nurture these vocations.

And when we say yes to God - even when we're uncertain, even when we're afraid, even when we can't see how it's all going to work out - God honors that yes. God works through that yes. God does extraordinary things through ordinary people who are willing to trust.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends In 2026, help us to say yes to God as help us to trust when we cannot see. Help us to be instruments of God's love in a world that desperately needs it.

 

 

 

 

Behold, I am the Handmaid of the Lord

 

My brothers and sisters, there's something I want us to really think about in this new year. When we hear the story of the Annunciation - this moment when the angel Gabriel comes to Mary - we often focus on the miraculous nature of what's happening. And rightfully so. But I think we sometimes miss something equally important: Mary's very human response to what God is asking of her.

Look at what happens in this passage. The angel appears and says, "Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you." And what's Mary's reaction? She's "greatly troubled." She wasn't immediately peaceful. She wasn't instantly serene. She was troubled.

And then comes the announcement itself - that she's going to conceive and bear a son, that he'll be called the Son of the Most High, that his kingdom will have no end. Extraordinary promises. World-changing promises. And Mary asks a perfectly reasonable question: "How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?"

Now, I want us to sit with that question for a moment. Mary isn't doubting God's power. She's asking a real, practical question about how this is going to work in her actual life. She's engaged to Joseph. She knows how babies are made. She knows what people will think. She's asking, "How is this going to happen?"

And here's what strikes me: God doesn't rebuke her for asking. The angel doesn't say, "Mary, just trust and don't ask questions." Instead, Gabriel gives her an explanation. He tells her about the Holy Spirit, about the power of the Most High overshadowing her. He even gives her a sign - her elderly cousin Elizabeth is also pregnant. God honors her question. God respects her need to understand.

And then comes that moment - that beautiful, world-changing moment. "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word." Her "yes." Her "fiat."

But let's not romanticize this too much. Mary's yes wasn't given in a vacuum. She knew what this could mean. She lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone else's business. She was engaged to Joseph, and suddenly she's going to be pregnant before their marriage is complete. She could face shame, rejection, even death by stoning according to the law. Her yes was going to cost her something.

Yet she trusted. She surrendered. She said yes to God's plan even when she couldn't see the whole picture.

Now, fast forward nearly fifteen hundred years to December 1531, to a hill called Tepeyac just outside what's now Mexico City. And here's where we see something remarkable - Mary appears again, but this time to Juan Diego, an indigenous peasant who had recently converted to Christianity.

Think about the context for a moment. Mexico had been conquered by the Spanish just ten years earlier. The indigenous people had seen their world turned upside down - their culture suppressed, their temples destroyed, their people decimated by disease and violence. Many had been baptized, but it was often forced or done out of fear. The faith hadn't really taken root in their hearts because it came wrapped in the violence of conquest.

And who does Mary choose to appear to? Not the Spanish archbishop. Not the powerful conquistadors. Not the educated theologians who had come from Europe. She appears to Juan Diego - someone the world considered insignificant, someone who was struggling to survive in a society that had been torn apart.

Mary met Juan Diego where he was. She honored his culture, his language, his way of seeing the world. And through him, she brought millions of indigenous people to faith in her Son - not through force or fear, but through love and respect.

What does this mean for us today? I think it means that God is still choosing unlikely people to do extraordinary things. God is still speaking to us in ways we can understand, meeting us where we are, honoring who we are.

So here's my question for you this new year in 2026: What is God asking you to say yes to? Maybe it's something big - a major life change, a difficult decision, a call to serve in a new way. Or maybe it's something that seems small but is actually profound - being more patient with a difficult family member, reaching out to someone who's lonely, standing up for someone who's being treated unjustly.

And when we say yes to God - even when we're uncertain, even when we're afraid, even when we can't see how it's all going to work out - God honors that yes. God works through that yes. God does extraordinary things through ordinary people who are willing to trust.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us. Help us to say yes to God as you did. Help us to trust when we cannot see. Help us to be instruments of God's love in a world that desperately needs it.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends In 2026, God bless you and keep you, and may we all learn to say yes to God's call in our lives, whatever that may be.

 

How God Meets Us at Christmas

 

I still have fond memories of taking pictures of Father Robert in San Antonio after his was ordained by Bishop John. But after the beautiful ordination service, I was asked to take more family pictures. Father Robert with all his brother priests, then with his parents and friends. However, what I would call the most stunning photo that I would print on a vocation flyer was the family portrait of Fr. Robert’s with his wife McKensie holding their 2 year old son JJ beaming with pride and what I also learned that mom was expecting another child in June. The young couple shared that they picked the name Emelle (pronounced “in-mell”) if it was a girl and no name yet for a boy.

As this young couple looks forward to the birth of another child. Christmas is God’s answer to our waiting, God’s response to the centuries of prayers that lay hidden in our groaning, in our sighs, our frustrations, each of them a plea, mostly silent, for a divine intervention, all of them asking God to come and rid the world of injustice and our hearts of loneliness and heartache. Something people around the world are all craving for: rid the world of injustice, war, deportation, loneliness and heartache of all kinds.

But God’s answer didn’t exactly meet our expectations even as it surpassed them. What was born with Jesus’ birth and what still lies seemingly helpless in mangers all around the world wasn’t exactly what the world expected.

What the world expected was a superstar, someone with real talent, sharpness, and raw muscle-power to out-gun everything that’s bad on this planet, someone charismatic enough to make everyone who opposes him slink away in defeat. it appears that’s exactly what some are expecting in our country today. However, what is God’s answer to that: A baby lying helpless in the straw!

Why?

Why would God choose to be born into the world in this way?

The power of God revealed in Christmas is the power of a baby, nothing more.

Because you can’t argue with a baby! Babies don’t try to compete, don’t stand up to you, don’t try to best you in an argument, and don’t try to impress you with their answers. Indeed, they can’t speak at all. And that is the Savior who was born in Bethlehem, and that is how God is still basically in the world. Like a baby.

God does not outgun anyone, out-muscle anyone, threaten anyone, or overpower anyone. The power of God revealed in Christmas is the power of a baby, nothing more, nothing less: innocence, gentleness, helplessness, a vulnerability that can soften hearts, invite in, have us hush our voices, teach us patience, and call forth what’s best in us.

But we have always been slow to understand this. We want our messiahs to possess more immediate power. And we are in good company here. The messiah that people longed for during all those centuries leading up to Jesus and Bethlehem was precisely conceived as a human superhero, someone like a power ninja someone with the earthly muscle to bang heads together and purge the world of evil by morally superior muscles.

But that’s not the Christmas story, nor the power revealed in it. An infant lying in the straw in Bethlehem didn’t outgun anyone. He just lay there, waiting for anyone good or bad to come to him, see his helplessness, feel a tug at his or her heart strings, and then gently try to coax a smile or a word out of him.

That’s still how God meets us.

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that we take a moment to really look at the infant at our manger at home or in our church.  See his helplessness and then feel a tug at your heart that says you my chosen one and I love you.

 

Looking for Directions

 

You know, I have to tell you about something that happened just this week. On Monday, my good friend Fr. Erick drove us to Sedona, Arizona so I could take a few landscape pictures to add to my portfolio. We had just completed 9 services for the Feast of Guadalupe – what a wonderful, prayerful experience with his beautiful Hispanic community. Now it was our time to relax and hit the road.

In advance of our trip, I contacted the park rangers for suggestions on the best photo site locations. We needed directions because we only had 24 hours and my goal was to find the best sunrise and sunset locations. To our rescue comes angel Kimberly. Kimberly is a US park ranger and she knew exactly where we needed to be throughout our journey. We needed a sign, some guidance to be at the right place at the right moment.

And that got me thinking – how often do we ask God to give us a sign? When we reflect on that question, it probably happens more often than we might initially think. "God, what am I supposed to do with my life?" "Lord, is this the person I'm meant to be with?" "Should I go there and do this?" "Jesus, give me a sign that you love me" – and that one's usually followed with a suggestion on how He might do that.

It's understandable, really. We're told that God loves us. That He answers every one of our prayers. So in a way, we admit that maybe we're a little dense. Perhaps we might have missed that answer or not clearly understood His plan when things aren't going the way we think they should. So we want some clarity, some understanding, some reason brought into whatever situation it is we find ourselves in. We look for more clues, more evidence of God's presence, His activity in our lives. We ask for a sign.

Now, in today's Gospel, we know that both Mary and Joseph had an angel tell them and explain to them how Mary was going to become the mother of Jesus even though Mary and Joseph had been betrothed but not had relations with one another. But there's a detail about this that kind of fascinates me.

Mary had an angelic visitor greeting her one day in her home in Nazareth. She had this dialogue with the angel and a further confirmation of this wondrous news with the incredible and miraculous announcement that her elderly relative Elizabeth was pregnant with John the Baptist.

Joseph has an angelic visitor too, but the angel comes to him in a dream. And here's what's interesting – the angel comes not to announce glad tidings to him as the angel does for Mary. The angel comes in response to Joseph being in a difficult spot. He's at a loss, perhaps sad, confused, angry even, or most likely feeling unworthy.

Matthew tells us that Joseph knew that Mary was "found with child through the Holy Spirit." There's no reason to believe that Joseph didn't believe that. He loved Mary and already knew how beautiful she was, interiorly. But after Mary tells Joseph about her encounter with the angel, the scriptures kind of just matter-of-factly tell us that Joseph was planning on divorcing her quietly.

The more you reflect on it and dig into this, you realize that Joseph must have been filled with self-doubt and unworthiness. Because Mary and Joseph were betrothed, but not living together. In ancient Judaism, betrothal was more than just what we would understand as engagement. Betrothal was the time when the couple was already legally married but before they lived together. It was a sacred time of transition. From the betrothal on, they could only be separated by death or divorce – which wasn't very accepted in ancient times.

We read: "Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly." Joseph, not believing he was even worthy to be Mary's husband at this point and wanting in a sense to free her of being attached to him, doesn't know what to do. It's not good. Divorce is not a good answer – but Joseph doesn't know what else to do. As much as Joseph loves Mary, he thinks this is the only viable plan. Being a righteous man, he would've prayed to God for guidance, looking for some sign that he was correct.

This is what this Gospel story is really about. God was unwilling to let Joseph move on through life believing lies about himself, of somehow being unworthy. God the Father sends an angel to Joseph in his sleep. In Joseph's dreams, God the Father invites Joseph to let go of self-doubt, to reject the voices of the devil speaking words of fear, and instead to dream His dream. Dream His dream of being a father to His Son Jesus – not just in a spiritual but a real way. Dream His dream of taking Mary, full of Grace, as his wife into his home, truly as his to love, honor, cherish, and protect all the days of his life.

St. Joseph has taught me a few beautiful lessons with this – lessons that have helped shape my understanding of God and I think are really important for each of us when we have our moments of asking for a sign.

First is that we have to be open to how the Lord wants to speak to us. Just because your betrothed gets an angel popping by the house one afternoon doesn't mean that's how God is going to "visit" you. But for us, we always have to remember that God the Father – He who made us, who knows us so intimately that scripture tells us He knows the exact number of hairs on our heads – He knows how best to speak to us. So I can't let jealousy or envy that God speaks and works differently in one person's life compared to mine enter in. Because if I do that, more likely I'm going to miss how God is speaking to me.

The second thing is to trust God. Trust His plan. Trust His plan that has been at work outside of our human time and human expectations. Trust He has always and is always at work – but that He wants that to be done not "to" us but with us. He wants to work with us.

This brings me to the final point or the final lesson that St. Joseph teaches us. We have to be connected to the Lord in our everyday lives so that we can know how to see Him, hear Him, and encounter Him in those bigger moments when we are crying out for signs. Joseph had to have been a man of great faith, and trust, and prayer. He had to already have been a man in a relationship with God to have been able to appreciate and accept this "dream." Had he not, it would've been easy to dismiss it as a crazy dream. Because Joseph knew the Lord already, he was able to hear Him speaking to Joseph in this difficult hour. He was able to trust God's plan was greater than his plans. He was able to get up and follow what it was God was inviting him into – and experience the truth of those promises.

Let me tell you how this played out in Sedona. Angel Kimberly had us visit 13 sites. My ultimate goal or "dream shot" was to take a reflection of Cathedral Rock that I saw on the internet. The only problem was that I was on the wrong side of Oak Creek. I told this to Kimberly and she recommended I drive to Baldwin Trail. So I hiked for an hour along the trail and when I finally found the creek, I again was on the wrong side and it was impossible to get a reflection of Cathedral Rock. Disappointed and exhausted, I started walking back along the trail and got lost.

However, I discovered an area with long rocky deep crevices filled with puddles of water. I walked around and noticed a reflection of Cathedral Rock in the water. This was the "dream shot" that I had been searching for, though not as awesome as the one online. 

 

Then hiking back to the car, Fr. Erick suggested that we drive back to Airport Mesa for a sunset shot. I thought we were miles away, but Fr. Erick was my angel – in eight minutes I found myself standing with my tripod with 500 tourists taking pictures of an awesome sunset over Sedona.

See, sometimes God's plan is different from what we imagined, but it's exactly what we need. I was looking for one specific shot, but God gave me something different – and then surprised me with something even better than I could have planned.

So let me ask you: What signs are you looking for as answers to your prayers right now? What fears and doubts make it difficult to sleep? What are the things that seem impossible – the things that seem barren, lost, dead in you right now? The things that if God himself asked you, "What do you want for Christmas?" – not any material things that we maniacally focus on this time of year, but the things that are deepest in our hearts right now that we tend to have grown indifferent to, thinking they are unanswerable, impossible?

Joseph tells us to trust God. Be open and attentive to His plan and even more to be open and attentive to the ways He is speaking to us – speaking to our fears, our doubts, our worries; inviting us into deeper love and trust with Him, His plans, His dreams for us; so that we too can make Christmas truly a celebration of His birth – for each of us, and for the world once again.