Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Martin Luther King Jr. said that “a good leader is not a searcher for consensus but a molder of consensus – he is the one who lights a fire in people’s hearts.”

In the Gospel today, Jesus said, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” Jesus is not talking about destruction – he is talking about a fire of transformation. And like any fire, it changes whatever it touches.

This is one of the more unsettling passages of Luke’s Gospel. We often think of Jesus as the bringer of peace, and rightly so. But here he says: “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” What is this fire Jesus is talking about? It is the fire of God’s love, God’s truth, God’s justice – the power of the Holy Spirit. And like fire, it can be warm and life-giving, or it can be challenging and purifying. Fire can comfort us on a cold winter night, but it can also burn away what is rotten and useless.

When the fire of Christ enters a life, it often causes change that others resist. Some relationships are strained, because not everyone wants to be transformed by that fire. That is what Jesus means by “division” – not that He delights in conflict, but that the truth He brings forces a choice. And choices divide.

We live in a time when following Christ sometimes means standing apart from the crowd – even from friends or family. The fire of Jesus’ Gospel challenges us to stand for honesty in a world that rewards half-truths, to choose generosity when selfishness is easier, to standup against bigotry, to defend the powerless, to forgive when holding a grudge feels justified.

This is not easy. Division can hurt deeply. But Jesus reminds us that faith is not about avoiding conflict at any cost – it is about being faithful to God at all costs.

Think of a refiner’s fire: gold is purified when heat burns away the impurities. In the same way, God’s fire burns away the fear, the selfishness, the sin in our lives – if we let God.

Sometimes the hardest divisions are within us – between the part of us that wants to follow Christ completely and the part that still clings to comfort, to control, to old habits. The fire Jesus brings is not meant to destroy us but to make us whole, burning away what keeps us from loving God and neighbor fully.

Jesus came to bring a fire that warms the heart and purifies the soul. But it is a fire we must allow to burn within us, even if it causes discomfort or division. Fire dies out if it is not fed. Prayer, Scripture, Eucharist and acts of charity – these are the wood and oxygen that keep the flames alive within us. This week, let us ask: Where in my life does Jesus’ fire need to burn more brightly? Where do I need to let God purify, change, or challenge me? Because the fire Jesus brings is not to destroy – it is to transform the world, starting with you and me.

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

How often do we say the word, “later”?  “I’ll call you later.” “We’ve got to have dinner – later.” I’ll get to that… later.” We so easily miss the present moment – we put off. Jesus said in the gospel, “Let your loins be girded and your lamps lit.” In other words, be ready, be alert, be awake to the present moment.

But ready for what? Some suggest that these words are about the second coming of Jesus or maybe the end of our lives here on earth. But I would suggest Jesus is talking about being ready for His presence breaking into our lives now – is small, hidden, unexpected ways.

Think about it, the master’ in the parable returns at night. That is when we least expect anything meaningful to happen. But God often arrives not in daylight, but in the dark – when we are tired, discouraged, or distracted. That is when grace often knocks.

And here is the surprise in this story: when the master finds the servants awake and ready, he serves them. He sits them down and puts on the servant’s apron. That is not how the world works – but it is how the kingdom of God works.

Jesus is not a master who demands fear and obedience – He is a master who lives to serve. His “coming” is not to catch us off guard, but to invite us to share His joy, His table, His life.

So how do we stay ready? Not by being anxious. Not by living in fear. But by living with attention. Loving our neighbor. Keeping our hearts soft.  Being ready to forgive. Welcoming the stranger. Living each day as if it matters. Being ready to drop everything if Jesus asked something of us today.

Readiness, in the kingdom of God, is not about knowing the schedule. It is about living faithfully in the present. “Blessed are those servants,” Jesus says. Not because they figured it all out, but because they were simply awake to the moment. Sometimes we say, “I will get serious about my faith later…when life slows down…. when the kids are older…. when I retire. I will go to that Alpha experience next year. I will start praying with the scriptures this winter when things are quiet. This parable tells today is the day – God comes today, as we go about our ordinary tasks – washing dishes, going to work, helping a neighbor, making a phone call, in the friend who reaches out with a heavy heart, in the whisper of peace we feel in prayer, in the many invitations to deepen our faith – are we awake to God’s presence? Let us keep our lamps lit. Because Christ meets us not just in church, but in every act of love.

Stay awake. Be ready. The Lord is near.

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

In the 1960’s the all-pro football star Jerry Kramer wrote a best-seller called “Instant Replay.” In it he asks this provocative question, “What is my purpose here on earth besides playing the silly game I play every Sunday.”  In the 1980’s Kramer wrote a sequel called, “Distant Replay.” It opens with the question: “What have I done with my life?”  And that is exactly what the gospel today is asking each of us.

Someone wants Jesus to settle a family dispute over an inheritance. But Jesus refuses to get involved in a legal matter. Instead, he offers something far more important – a challenge to our hearts. We hear the parable of the rich fool. A man has a great harvest – too big for his barns! He builds bigger ones – “relax, eat, drink and be merry.”

Let’s pause here. This parable is not a condemnation of wealth. This man was not an   evil man. He wasn’t cruel. He did not steal or cheat. But the rich man made three mistakes:

He forgot God. Nowhere in his plans is there even a mention of God or prayer, or gratitude, or generosity. He talks only to himself, about himself, for himself.

He forgot others. There is no mention of family or friends or neighbors, let alone the poor and needy. Just my crops, my barns, and my goods. A life wrapped up in itself becomes an exceedingly small package.

He forgot time. He said, “You have many years stored up.” But none of us know when our time will come. Life is fragile. The question is, if today were our last day, are we at peace with God?

In our world – where success is measured in dollars, titles, and square footage – this parable hits hard. Jesus ends by saying, “Thus it will be for all who store up treasure for themselves but are not rich in what matters to God.” So, what does it mean to be rich in what matters to God? It means to use our blessings – not just our money but our time, our love, our talents – not just for ourselves but in love for others. It means to live gratefully - recognizing everything is gift and the Giver is God. This living gratefully is not merely an attitude of the heart – it is an action of our hands. For example, today, we in good conscience, cannot sit with this Gospel and not think of the families in Gaza. Can we hear Jesus say, “Guard against all greed,” while children cry out in hunger, while parents search desperately for clean water and food. The people of Gaza are starving, but possibly the soul of this country is also starving if we do nothing.

You see, if you only live for yourself, for the present moment, you cease to exist when that moment passes away. But if you live for eternal values  - if you live for what matters to God – mercy, justice, feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, lifting up the lowly - those who live for eternal values – those who live for what lies beyond them – they find their life going on and on for all eternity. The best use of life is to spend it on something that outlasts life.

May we NOT be fools who build bigger barns, while others perish in the shadow of their walls. May we be people who are rich in what matters to God.

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Jesus sends out 72 disciples, two by two, into towns and villages where he intends to go himself. And Jesus tells them something both sobering and empowering: “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few.” And then this cheerful advice: “Go on your way; behold, I am sending you like lambs among wolves.” Let’s consider these words – it is not just about ancient times – 2,000 years ago – it is us, now. The harvest is still abundant. People are hungry for peace; they are hungry for meaning and belonging and truth. The fields are filled with lives waiting for hope. But so often, we think someone else is supposed to do the harvesting.

A few years ago, a priest in a small village noticed an older woman named Rose who always sat in the last pew. Every Sunday, like clockwork – she never missed. One day, after Mass, he asked her, “Rose, I see you are here every Sunday, But I have never seen you bring anyone with you.” She looked surprised and said, “Well, Father, I thought my job was to get myself to church, I didn’t think I had to bring someone with me.”  The priest smiled and gently said, “Ah, but Jesus said we are sent ahead of Him – to prepare His way. You might be the only Gospel someone reads this week.” That is exactly the message of Luke 10 – the gospel today. You and I are not just passive churchgoers. We are sent people. Every baptized Christian is a missionary. We are sent into our families, workplaces, neighborhoods – to bring peace and healing and the presence of God. The mission field is not some far-off jungle. It is your living room, your break room, the local grocery store.

Notice what Jesus tells the disciples to say when they enter a home: “Peace to this household.” We are not sent to argue, to prove that we are right, or to be perfect. We are sent to bring peace.

We live in a world filled with anxiety, division, and loneliness. Our country is in turmoil and to be true to the Gospels is like being a lamb among wolves. Your kind word, your patient ear, your steady presence comes only from being grounded in the peace of Christ. We are not called to convert people with speeches. Jesus did not say, “Convince them.” He said, “Heal the sick, and say, ‘The Kingdom of God is near you.’ In other words, show up, love well, speak peace – and let God do the rest.

Jesus also tells them, “Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals.” That is his way of saying: Do not rely on your stuff, your status, your skills, you do not need a theology degree, just carry peace into every place you go and rely on me – I go with you.

If we are honest, being a witness, a faithful disciple in today’s world can feel awkward. Sharing faith might feel intimidating. But the beauty is, as I said last week, God does not call the equipped – God equips the called – and you and I have been called. If you have ever smiled at a cashier having a bad day, made a meal for a grieving neighbor, comforted a friend in crisis or stood up for what is right and just – you have prepared the way for the Lord. You are one of the 72. God is sending you, this week, today – to someone who needs to know: “You are not alone – our God is with us – the kingdom of God is at hand.”