St. Thomas the Apostle Parish

In today's Gospel, Jesus points out that it is difficult to forgive the sins committed against us. It can also be difficult to forgive the sins people have committed against others, especially those we love most.

However, this is what we are called to do. A lack of forgiveness is sinful in nature. It may be a natural response to particular offenses, but we are called to free the other person—and ourselves—by our forgiveness.

Jesus came to earth so that God might forgive us for our transgressions. In response, people who felt threatened by His message put Him to death. From the Cross, as He took His final breaths, He showed us how to forgive when He said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

St. Paul tells us to "be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you in Christ."

Today's Gospel reading presents an unsettling story that speaks to a universal human experience: feeling isolated, misunderstood, or on the outside looking in. The two people possessed by demons were entirely out of control, preventing others from entering their area. Living among the tombs, they seemed more dead than alive—true outsiders. Yet Jesus did not shy away from them. He engaged with them, healing not just their bodies but restoring their place in the community. Having just calmed a storm at sea, Jesus now calmed the storm within these two souls.

 

Most of us may never face the same level of turmoil as the two individuals in the story, but we all know what it feels like to be out of sorts—to feel disconnected, alone, or tossed about by life's challenges. It might be after a hard conversation, a period of loneliness, or a time when anxiety makes us feel only half alive. In those moments, like the people in the Gospel, we are invited to bring our struggles before the Lord.

 

At first, their approach to Jesus was aggressive and angry: "What have you to do with us, Son of God?" Sometimes, when we are distressed, our prayers may sound just as raw or desperate. The comforting truth is that Jesus is never put off by honest emotion or inner chaos. If we let Him into our turmoil, He will pour His peace into our hearts and our lives.

The disciples did nothing wrong to cause the storm in which they found themselves. It's easy to think that if we pray, attend daily Mass, and live faithfully, our lives will be free from life’s storms. But difficulties and challenges are a normal part of the human journey. Life’s storms are not a sign of God's anger; they are the place where our faith can mature and where we can learn to rely on God to save us.

 

Jesus was asleep in the stern. For the disciples, this silence appeared as indifference. When we encounter bad news, difficult relationships, or anxiety, it can seem as though Jesus is asleep in our lives. However, the Gospel reassures us that Jesus’ silence is not absence or indifference. He remains with us in the boat. He allows the storm to help us recognize our limitations, so that we rely not on our own strength but on God's.

When we are in trouble, may we pray as the disciples and cry out, "Lord, save us!" trusting that Jesus is always with us.

St. Peter set himself apart from the other disciples through his divinely inspired recognition of Jesus as the Messiah. This pivotal insight prompted Jesus to give Peter a unique and foundational role among His followers, calling him the "rock" upon which He would build His Church. Jesus entrusted St. Peter with "the keys to the Kingdom of heaven," symbolizing authority and responsibility to interpret and guide matters of faith. Despite this vital position, St. Peter was not without shortcomings; he tried to dissuade Jesus from embracing the Cross and later denied knowing Him. Yet Jesus deliberately gave this central role to someone imperfect, highlighting that leadership in faith often entails growth and redemption.

 

While St. Peter is often associated with teaching, St. Paul is renowned in scripture for his preaching. He tirelessly spread the Gospel to the Gentiles across the Roman Empire and ultimately delivered his final sermon in Rome, where, like St. Peter, he was martyred for his unwavering faith in Christ. In a poignant passage, likely written from his prison cell, St. Paul reflected, "I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith." This powerful imagery of competition and endurance underscores that "keeping the faith" was a real struggle for St. Paul, just as it was for St. Peter.

 

Maintaining faith is a challenge for everyone. St. Paul's words reveal his awareness that keeping the faith was not achieved by his efforts alone; he relied on the Lord's strength. He wrote, "The Lord stood by me and gave me strength." In the same way, God empowers each of us to persevere in faith. His faithfulness enables us to remain steadfast, and His love draws us back to Him even after we fall. The enduring witness of Saints Peter and Paul ultimately testifies to the Lord's unwavering faithfulness to us all.

There is a very sad scene in the movie American Anthem. It shows a young man who cannot accept the fact that he has lost one of his legs in an accident. The young man refuses to leave his room and tries to keep everyone out, including the young woman he once admired and loved. He keeps the blinds pulled down and sits alone in his darkened room playing music.

Now, contrast that scene with another scene. A friend of mine, Franciscan Sister Carla, lived in a small town in Virginia. She spent each day visiting with townsfolk, always smiling, always doing things for the poor and the needy. Even into her seventies, she continued to work 12-14 hours a day. Surprisingly, she had severe diabetes and, like the young man in the movie, she had lost a leg. She frequently suffered infections in the remnant of her leg and was often in a wheelchair, but she was always on the go, and she was an eternal optimist.

Both of these scenes illustrate, in a moving way, one of the things that Jesus talks about in today’s Gospel reading when he says: “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.”

Without minimizing the difficulty that people like the young man in the movie endure, we look at the different responses of him and Sr. Carla, both of whom endured the same difficulty or cross. And it’s this difference that we look at.

The young man, in his anguish, refused to take up his cross and follow Jesus; he refused to accept his new situation of having to face life with a prosthetic leg. His refusal brought deep sadness not only to him but to all those around him.

Sr. Carla had taken up her cross. She accepted her situation (although she would certainly have preferred two legs), and her acceptance brought deep peace not only to her but to everyone around her. She chose to focus not on her lack of a leg, but on what she was called upon to do for others as a Christian.

All of us can relate to the situations of the young man in the movie and Sr. Carla. We, too, have experienced setbacks, sufferings, or tragedies in our lives. We, too, have experienced painful situations that we could not change. We, too, have faced the painful choice of how to respond to those situations. And we have seen similar situations where one person comes away from a setback very bitter, and another comes away much better.

This raises a very significant question for us: Why is it that, for some people, a difficulty, a setback, or a tragedy is a stumbling block, while for others the same situation is a stepping stone?

For an answer, I look to Dr. Viktor Frankl, who addressed this question in his book Man’s Search for Meaning. In the book, Dr. Frankl discussed his experiences as a prisoner of the Nazis during World War II. He experienced firsthand the brutal climate in the concentration camps, which turned some prisoners into mean, bitter people and others into saints. He experienced firsthand the evil that drove some prisoners to despair and hatred and others to hope and love.

Frankl said the difference between these two responses lay in faith. This faith, he said, put the people who experienced it in touch with a power that helped them maintain their humanity even in the face of incredible inhumanity.

This brings us back to our original question: What gave my friend Sr. Carla the courage to roll her wheelchair through the streets of Middleburg, Virginia, greeting everyone with a smile, feeding the hungry, clothing those with little or no money, giving hope and encouragement to the downtrodden, while another person in the same situation cannot find the courage to roll up the blinds and let in the light of day?

The answer is the same as the one Dr. Frankl gave in his book: It is faith.

For the Christian, it is faith that, as Jesus brought new life into the world by taking up his Cross and carrying it, so we can bring new life into the world by taking up our cross and carrying it.

It is faith in God’s word to us in today’s second reading that just as we were buried with Christ in baptism, so we will be raised to new life with him because of that same baptism. It is faith that, despite all the setbacks we endure in life, God has a purpose for each one of us, and God will help us to attain that purpose, come what may.

Jesus’ agony and death could have been viewed as the death knell of Christianity; instead, it was just the beginning. From that pain and suffering and sacrifice sprang forth our salvation.

Let us pray for the faith and hope we need to move with and through our setbacks, obstacles, and tragedies, so that we may live and love as God has called us to do.

 

St. Matthew tells us that Jesus “was amazed” by the faith and understanding of the non-Jewish centurion. Jesus, true God, is also a true human. Our choices really matter to Him and can deeply affect Him. We have the power to bring Jesus joy, to amaze Him by our trust, or to sadden Him by turning away. In a sense, God has limited His power in relation to us. He refuses to force us to live as we were created to live. Instead, He permits us to choose—to walk with Him or to go it alone.

 

Each day, He invites us to walk with Him, follow Him, and bear witness to Him. He knows this is the path that leads to the “more abundant life” we all yearn for. He surrounds us with invitations and motivation to help us choose well in every circumstance. Yet He respects the freedom He built into our hearts. He won’t violate it. This space of freedom becomes a place where we can touch the very heart of God—either with the joy-giving embrace of trust or with the piercing thorn of rejection. What will my choice be today?

During Jesus’ time, lepers were considered “untouchable” because of the widespread fear of contagion. As a result, they were isolated from society and permitted to interact only with other lepers.

 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus reaches out and touches the leper, demonstrating compassion over convention. Instead of risking contamination, His touch brings healing. The leper, approaching with humility, says, “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” Jesus responds with assurance: “I will do it.”

 

Jesus is never afraid to reach into our lives, even into the areas we find shameful or broken. The Risen Lord courageously enters both our personal and communal struggles, offering healing and new life. Like the leper, we are invited to come to Him and welcome His transformative presence into our hearts and souls.

In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus outlines three essential activities for his followers: speaking, listening, and doing. During public prayer, we speak by calling on Jesus as Lord. In worship and private prayer, we listen to the Word of God and allow it to fill our hearts. Speaking and listening are important in the life of a disciple. Yet, Jesus teaches that these practices lose their true value unless they inspire us to act.

 

It is not enough to simply call on the Lord; we must also strive to do God's will. Listening to Jesus' words alone is not sufficient; we need to act on them. Our lives should reflect both our words and what we have heard. When our prayers and our openness to God's Word lead us to good deeds that mirror Jesus' life, we become like a house built on rock—firm and unshakable. Today's Gospel assures us that when God's words and our prayers genuinely shape our attitudes and actions, we are better prepared to weather life's storms.

Names play an essential role in our lives by providing us with identity and signifying who we are. The names parents choose often carry special meaning. These may be traditional family names, inspired by beloved relatives or friends, or hold a significance unique to the parents. Whatever the origin, the naming of a child is usually accompanied by joy and anticipation for the future.

 

Elizabeth’s joy at the birth of John the Baptist was extraordinary—not just the happiness of a new mother, but the culmination of years of longing and prayer. Both she and Zechariah were advanced in age and had endured the pain of barrenness, making John's birth a true miracle and a testament to the power of faith in God’s divine plan.

 

As tradition dictated, John was circumcised on the eighth day, and his family and neighbors gathered to hear the name he would be given. Expecting the child to be named Zechariah after his father, they were surprised when Elizabeth insisted his name would be John—a name unfamiliar in their family. When questioned, Zechariah confirmed this by writing, “John is his name,” reaffirming the divine choice. Though it puzzled those present, Elizabeth and Zechariah recognized that the name was chosen by God, not by them.

 

As soon as John’s name was proclaimed, Zechariah’s speech was miraculously restored. He immediately blessed and praised God for the gift of his son and the return of his voice. In naming their son John, Elizabeth and Zechariah affirmed their faith in God’s plan. The freeing of Zechariah’s tongue became a sign of hope, foreshadowing the coming of the Messiah.

 

Let us pray… Lord, help us recognize the meaning and power of our own names. Guide us in prayer and inspire us, like St. John the Baptist, to joyfully share the Good News of Jesus in all that we do. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

The imagery of the narrow gate and the hard road in our Gospel passage suggests that discipleship can be challenging. While one can stroll through a wide gate without a second thought, getting through a narrow one requires concentration. It takes commitment to get through such a narrow gap. Being a faithful follower of Jesus requires all of our goodwill.

The word "narrow" is generally negative; we often think we are broad-minded. No one wants to be considered narrow-minded. But the Gospel calls for narrowing our focus in following Christ, excluding some accessible and well-trodden pathways. Saying "Yes" to Christ's way requires saying "No" to selfish ways. However, any narrowing down and self-denial in following Jesus ultimately lead to a full sharing in God's life.