The Heart of the Father: Homily for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

The longer version of the Gospel that the lectionary offers us this Sunday ends with Our Lord offering an interpretation of the parable that we hear in the shorter version. Under these circumstances, it would take a brave, or foolish, man to offer another interpretation of the same parable. However, a parallel interpretation allows us to appreciate the richness of the genre of the parable, a parable is to be read not literally, but allegorically. As such, it can offer multiple readings. Secondly, the reading I offer is well within the interpretative frame offered by Our Lord, Himself. Third, this interpretation allows us to appreciate the first reading, and recognize how we can often use the first reading as an interpretative key to understand the Gospel, or vice-versa.

The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man
who sowed good seed in his field

Reading these lines allegorically we recognize in them God who planted our first parents, Adam and Eve, in the field of the Garden of Eden. Made in the image of God, they were without sin, and were indeed, good seed.

While everyone was asleep his enemy came
and sowed weeds all through the wheat, and then went off. 

Now we know that God does not sleep, and so the “everyone” in these lines can only refer to our first parents, and their sleep refers not to physical sleep, but to their failure to stay alert and guard their hearts. The enemy, we can now tell (Rev 12:10) is the Devil who crept up on our first parents and sowed in their hearts, destined for the purest wheat, the weeds of sin.

The slaves of the householder came to him and said,
… 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?

The slaves refer to the angels, who, always faithful to God, the Father of the divine household, are always ready to do His bidding.

Faced with the concern of His angels, God responds mercifully, as only a careful gardener would:

He replied, 'No, if you pull up the weeds
you might uproot the wheat along with them.

At this point, we are able to glimpse the truth of the psalm this Sunday:

Lord, you are good and forgiving.

God so loved the world, that rather than destroy us, or our first parents, for our sins, He allows us the opportunity to correct ourselves.

Let them grow together until harvest;
then at harvest time I will say to the harvesters,
"First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles for burning;
but gather the wheat into my barn."'

Brothers and sisters, we often fail to recognize that in the face of the holiness of God, the smallest of our sins demands that we be thrown into hell. And yet, despite meriting an eternity in hell, Our Lord allows us the opportunity to grow both wheat and weeds in the soil of our hearts, hopeful that we will grasp the opportunities that He has offered us, through His Son, His Most Holy Mother, and His saints to focus on the wheat. 

At the end of our time on earth, when we will have to give account for our life, our wheat and weeds will be sorted out by the angels. And once again, He will show us His mercy, since rather than summarily send us off to hell for the weeds we will have nurtured, we will get to spend time in the fire – of purgatory – but it will be the wheat that we have nurtured in the garden of our hearts that will ensure that we will eventually get to paradise.

And why, and how, is it, that Our Lord can be so merciful with us? The first reading, from the book of Wisdom offers us an explanation:

your might is the source of justice;
your mastery over all things makes you lenient to all

In other words, and this is a lesson to all of us who are in positions of power, it is a mark of our weakness, that we seek to destroy those under us, when they disobey, or fail us. Our God of justice and mercy, shows us the way in which the power that is given to us must be wielded, with compassion. As the book of Wisdom teaches us today:

And you taught your people, by these deeds,

that those who are just must be kind;

and you gave your children good ground for hope

that you would permit repentance for their sins.

My dear brothers and sisters, Our God is the constant gardener who ensures that we are never without opportunity to cultivate the soil of our hearts so that we may produce the finest wheat and then live with Him for eternity, in paradise. Let us so cultivate our hearts, therefore, that we may yield “a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold” (Mt 13: 8).

(A version of this homily was first preached to the faithful on 19 July 2026 in the chapel of Our Lady of the Cape at Cabo Raj Nivas, Dona Paula.)

(Image reference: The Tares, Eugène Burnand, 1908.)

Choose Wisely! Homily for the Fourteenth Week in Ordinary Time

My dear brothers and sisters in Our Lord Jesus Christ; somewhere in the second week of the month-long Ignatian silent retreat, the retreatant is asked to contemplate two standards. The standard of Our Lord on the one side, and that of Lucifer, Prince of this world on the other. Arrayed alongside these two standards are those who do battle under these standards. One the one hand, St. Ignatius asks us to imagine, the armies of Lucifer, arrayed in their horses, fine battle armour and weapons. On the other side, the first reading for this fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time help us imagine the armies of Our Lord, who do battle under a commander who is:

              meek, and riding on an ass

Those who belong to this world, and the fleshy mentality that St. Paul warns us against in the second reading for this Sunday, would laugh ourselves silly at the sight of such silliness. Sword and spear, chariot and horse, battle tanks – and AK47s if you like – against a man on an ass?

But, as St. Paul teaches us,

we are not debtors to the flesh,
to live according to the flesh. 

Indeed not, and biblical history teaches us that the logic of the world, can be overturned by those who do battle in the spirit. Recollect the episode from the first book of Samuel (17) where David the shepherd came to do battle with Goliath the giant armed with helmet, a coat of mail, a spear, and a mighty sword, with just five stones and a sling. Goliath was not just amused, he was outraged and promised to make short work of this impudent shepherd.

My dear brothers and sisters, those five pebbles were representative of the five blessed wounds of Our Lord which would win us our salvation. Just one stone would have been enough to finish off the Philistine. Indeed, there was no need for Our Lord to have suffered those five, and more wounds; one would have sufficed. But He went all the way to win for us the superabundant grace necessary for us in our battles with Lucifer, against the fleshy logic of the world.

Too often, dear brothers and sisters, we rely on, and commit to, the logic of the world. We place all our faith and trust in the shiny things of the world, the little gifts the Devil leaves us, that drag us to hell, and forget about the meek and humble Lord we are called to serve, in whom we should trust.

Of course, in many ways, it is natural to sin. After all, to the naked, and natural, eye, it is the power of the world which will triumph. We see the evidence of this worldly triumph all around us, EVERY SINGLE DAY! And yet, as St. Paul teaches us today:

if you live according to the flesh, you will die,
but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body,
you will live.

We Christians do not live for the short life in this material, and natural, world; we work for eternal life and must have a spiritual and supernatural vision. It is by the spirit of Our Risen Lord alone that we can live. These are the things that have been hidden from the wise (of this world) and revealed to us, who are children of our Father in heaven.

My dear brothers and sisters, when a priest celebrates Mass he does not simply throw on his vestments and march out to the altar. There is a prayer for every vestment he dons, and the prayer for the chasuble is particularly relevant to us today:

Domine, qui dixisti:

Iugum meum suave est et onus meum leve:

fac, ut istud portare sic valeam,

quod consequar tuam gratiam. Amen.

 

O Lord, who has said,

"My yoke is sweet and My burden light,"

grant that I may so carry it as to merit Thy grace. Amen.

Dear brothers and sisters, this grace has been won for us by the precious wounds of Our Lord. His yoke is sweet and His burden light, because He offers us His grace to help us carry the cross that has been given to us. Without His help, those crosses will be unbearable, and we will succumb to the temptations of the world.

An anonymous Christian of the early Church observed: “the weight of earthly masters gradually destroys the strength of their servants, but the weight of Christ rather helps the one who bears it, because we do not bear grace; grace bears us. It is not for us to help grace, but rather grace has been given to aid us.”

May Our Lord grant us the grace to carry our burdens, choose wisely, and reject the temptations of the world.

(A version of this homily was first preached to the faithful at the parish church of Our Lady of the Rosary, Caranzalem on 5 July 2026.)

(Image reference: Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Claudio Coello, circa 1680 – circa 1683, Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Asunción, Valdemoro – Madrid.)

Return to Grace! Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

My dear brothers and sisters in Our Lord Jesus Christ; Pope Leo XIV was quoting St. Augustine when, at the start of his pontificate, he said: “With you a Christian, for you a bishop.” Today, I would like to slightly alter those words saying, “With you a Christian, for you a priest.”

In the acclamation to the Gospel a few minutes ago we heard:

You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation;
announce the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

These words profoundly mark one aspect of what a priest is. Taken from the already holy assembly of God, a people who are charged with making the world holy, with announcing the Good News to those who still live in darkness, the priest is one who acts to strengthen this task of the Christian people.

Like Moses in the Old Testament, he acts on behalf of this holy assembly in their interaction with God. The priest is, like the bishop, a pontiff, a bridge builder. He is charged with building bridges between people, but above all, with securing the bridge between the people and God, so that the grace of God may flow down, through the sacraments, renewing this already holy people of God, empowering them in their attempt to be just to one another, and to others. One thing we must remember, the priest deals with grace, because without grace, we can do nothing.

Grace is possible primarily through the sacraments. Without the sacraments we can do little. Since the past 200 years, ever since the French revolution, or perhaps for the past 500 years, since the Protestant reformation, we in Europe, and then subsequently across the world, have been under the impression that we can change the world without grace. We have taken pride in our industry, in our wealth, in our political and social institutions. But, we have failed to realise that all of this was possible only due to the grace that flowed, through the sacraments, and the structures and institutions of our Holy Mother the Church.

Today, as we see our institutions collapsing around us, as Europe seems to fade ever more into irrelevance, it is time for us to recognize that we have been arrogant and misled. The answer to the civilizational crisis that we are facing is not in state programs – though these might help – but in a return to the Church, and the grace she offers through the sacraments. As Saint Paul teaches us in his letter to the Romans:

We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death,
so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead
by the glory of the Father,
we too might live in newness of life.

Newness in life, is possible only through baptism, which is the gateway to the sacraments that the Church offers us, and with it the assurance of eternal life. This is the only utopia that we should be aiming for, the only utopia that is worth realizing.

To enter this utopia, we need priests because without the priests we cannot access the sacraments. For this reason, my dear brothers and sisters, I ask you to pray for your priests, and more specially, to pray for me.

In this context I would like to quote St. John Maria Vianney here:

When the priest is a saint, his people will be holy.

When the priest is merely good, his people will be bad.

When the priest is bad, his people will be beasts!

Pray, therefore, that I other priests, and myself, will be saintly priests, so that we may all be the holy people of God. And in return for your prayers, I will make my own the words of the psalm we sang today:

The promises of the LORD I will sing forever,
through all generations my mouth shall proclaim your faithfulness.

Louvado seja o Nosso Senhor Jesus Cristo, e para sempre seja louvada a sua Mãe Maria Santíssima!

(A version of this homily was first preached in Portuguese to the faithful gathered at the parish church of São Nicolau, Lisbon for the anticipated Sunday Mass which was offered in thanksgiving for the gift of the sacred priesthood in the presence of friends who have supposed me through my life in Lisbon, on 27 June 2026.)

(Image reference: Ordination and First Mass of St. Juan de Mata, Vicente Carducho, 1634 – 1635, Museo del Prado, Madrid.)

The Value of Life: Homily for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows

My dear brothers and sisters, this line from the Gospel for this twelfth Sunday in ordinary time hit me like a blow. Our Lord Himself is telling us that we are worth than many sparrows. This assurance of our worth comes after the words “do not be afraid.” We have every reason to be afraid, human life in the contemporary world is severely devalued, and there is perhaps no bigger illustration of this than the fact that human lives are often seen as more important than those of animals. Take the case of India, where so many human lives are often ended because the meat they eat, and at times are presumed to eat, is considered to be of a sacred animal.

Another example, of animal lives being used to devalue human lives is when pets are referred to as babies, children, and the owners of these pets are hailed as the parents of these animals. Such comparisons are admittedly cute, but when a term for a human being is used for an animal, and an animal is anthropomorphized what we are effectively doing is demeaning human life. And the reason for this is that despite all the emotional drama around pets, at the end of the day, when push comes to shove, it is unlikely that we will treat animals as human beings, and perhaps not accord them the same consideration we might have offered a human being.

But perhaps that boat has sailed, so many of us have come so far in treating animals as human beings, that we do not treat human beings with the respect and dignity that they deserve. Indeed, it could be safely said that animals are so often anthropomorphized because we have lost communion with other human beings, trapped as we are in bubbles of hyper-individualism.

It is for this reason that Our Lord assures us today as insists, “do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”

Like Moses (Deu 30: 19), leader of Israel, Pope Saint John Paul II placed the choice that lies before us: a culture of life, or a culture of death. The culture that anthropomorphizes animals is, as should already have been obvious, is part of a culture of death. St. Paul, in the second reading today, in his letter to the Romans explains for us:

Through one man sin entered the world,
and through sin, death,

Any lifestyle, any cultural practice, that is not ordered towards Christ, and His teaching – of love of God and our neighbour – is one that is disordered. To suggest that a human life is equal to, or worse less, than that of a human being is to live a life that is disordered. To recognize that a animal life is to be respected, that animal must not be treated cruelly, but that their lives are not equal to that of a human being is to recognize the order of the universe ordained by God.

Last week, offered occasion to observe how Holy Mother Church has now entered the liturgical season of ordinary time. One the one hand this term ordinary is unfortunate, because it suggests to us that there is nothing special about this liturgical season. However, when we read ordinary, as a form of saying ordered towards Christ, we recognize that this is the time when we place the learnings of the previous liturgical seasons as signposts to direct our life deeper into the territory of Our Lord.

Ordinary time is the time to return to contemplating the great mysteries of our faith, of patience and perseverance, of sacrifice and penance, of death and the sure truth of the resurrection. With these mysteries guiding our lives there is no way we can slip into a culture of death, no matter how seductive they are.

(This homily was written after concelebrating a Mass at the Sanctuary of Fatima. A Mass which I offered for those who read this homily.)

(Image reference: Agnus Dei, Francisco Zurbaran, c. 1635 – c. 1640, Museo del Prado, Madrid.)