Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Homily on the Solemnity of Christ the King


What Does It Mean To Say That Christ Is King?

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily on the Solemnity of Christ the King

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 24, 2024


With the Solemnity of Christ the King, we come to the end of the liturgical Year B. The idea that Christ is King and its very celebration troubles many Americans. Why? Because Americans are skeptical of kings. It is a widely known fact that here in America, the system of government is constitutional democracy. America was born in a great act of revolution against a king. So, if someone claims kingliness, we become nervous. The entire American system was set up to prevent someone from becoming and acting like a king. As a matter of fact, if you want to go after a politician in America, you accuse him of acting like a king. So, it is quite strange for us Catholics, at the end of every liturgical year, to celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. Although kingship is alien to many of us, it is eminently a central biblical idea. Once you understand it from the standpoint of the Bible, it becomes a very liberating idea. 


We believe that Christ is King. We accept that Christ is King. We teach and preach that Christ is King. We profess that Christ is King. We celebrate that Christ is King. But concretely what does it mean to say that Jesus Christ is King? I will attempt to answer the question with what the great St. Thomas Aquinas called the four false substitutes for God— pleasure, power, honor and wealth. The first typical substitute for God is pleasure. The temptation to pleasure is a low level elementary temptation, but it is a very powerful one. This temptation is to base one’s life not on the will or purpose of God, but on the goods that satisfy the desires of the body— food, drink, illicit drugs, sex, gangsterism, consumerism, materialism, and all forms of sensual pleasure. Now, pleasure in itself is not bad. We are not puritans. But a Christian who makes the pursuit of pleasure his or her ultimate goal in life is not making Jesus his or her King. If we keep Jesus on the outer edge of our life, if we exclude him from the pleasures we partake and not declare him sovereign in every aspect of our life, we are not treating him as King. That Jesus is King means he is the Lord of everything, including our pleasures. He is “Dominus”— that is the Latin rendering of the Greek Kyrios, which means Lord. The word “Dominus” has the overtone of “domination.” He either dominates all sectors of our life or we are not treating him as King. 


The second replacement for God is power. This temptation is a higher level temptation. Like sensual pleasure, power in itself is not evil. God is described as all powerful. So, in itself power is not a bad thing, but power is not God. It is not the ultimate good. A Christian who makes power his or her deepest desire is not making Christ his or her King. If Christ is the King of your life, power will become a means to serve your brothers and sisters. You will use power to advance the Kingdom of God which is built upon love and mercy and respect towards others, especially the poor, the needy and those on the fringe of the society. Period! If Christ is your King, you will oppose any political office holder who tries to use his or her political power to oppress others, especially the least of our brothers and sisters. If Christ is your King, you will frown and protest any attempt to intimidate “the little guy.” And let’s not forget that God pays particular attention to “the little guys” among us. Jesus calls them, “the least of my brethren,” (Matthew 25:40). If Christ is your King, you will not surrender yourself to the power of darkness, to evil manipulation, to wickedness and cruelty. I know that power is so tempting and so attractive. But no matter how impressive it is, it is not worth the price of your soul. 


The third replacement for God is honor or esteem of others. Again, honor in itself is not evil. We honor the saints. We honor those who made sacrifices for others. But if your greatest aspiration in life is to be honored, then you are not making Christ Jesus your King. If your dominant holy grail in life is always to be seen and acknowledged by others, to always be at the top of your family, friends and even in the church, you are not making Christ your King. If all you really wanted is to be seen and be attended to, to be considered very important, even if you say that Jesus is your King, in reality he is not. You are not making him the King of your life. The reckless pursuit of honor, and the relentless search for the esteem of others, will make you unhappy. The inflation of ego will definitely deflate you spiritually. To make Christ your King is to acknowledge that your life is not about you. You are not the center of attraction. You are not the greatest thing ever to happen. Your life is not about getting everyone to notice you. Your life is about doing the will of God and nothing more. 


Wealth is the fourth. Wealth in itself is not evil. In the book of Haggai 2:8 we hear that silver and gold belong to God. And the book of Proverbs 10:22 tells us that the Lord’s blessing can bring about wealth. So, wealth in itself is not a bad thing, especially if it is acquired in the right way. However, if the only thing I care about in this world is making money and procuring wealth, then I am not making Christ the King of my life. From the lips of Jesus we hear that “…though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions” (Luke 12:15b). If the reason why you are not happy and not grateful is because you think you don’t have enough, you are not making Christ your King. If you are jealous of what another person has, you are not making Christ the King. If you speak ill of another simply because they are successful and wealthy, you are not making Christ your King. To make Christ your King is to be grateful to God even for the little you have. Wealth is not always material. A lot of materially rich people are at the same time deeply poor. Believe me, if you are spiritually strong, you are wealthy before God. If you are relatively healthy, you are a wealthy person. Did we not hear that “health is wealth?” If you are not addicted to food, licit and illicit drugs, to alcohol, to shopping, to sexual sins, to gossip etc. you are lucky and wealthy. Jesus would say, you are blessed. If you are not obsessed and attached to the goods of this world, you are a wealthy person. If your only addiction in life is the Lord, then Jesus is truly the King of your life. 


And may Jesus the true King grant you his peace! 

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Homily for the Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B


 Something Beyond Words Is Being Unveiled

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

November 17, 2024


On the surface, there’s something spooky, unsettling, upsetting and dire about today’s  Gospel (Mark 13:24-32). But at the depth, it’s actually good news. Let’s look at it on the surface level first. We are told that Jesus and his disciples are in the great Temple of Jerusalem. For any first century Jew, coming to the capital city from the countryside and seeing the Temple would surely be an overwhelming experience. Beyond doubt, the Temple was the most beautiful and impressive thing the disciples of Jesus had ever seen. As they stand in front of this imposing building, admiring its glory and splendor, marveling at its size, beauty and significance, Jesus drops a bomb on them, “Do you see these great buildings? There will not be one stone left upon another that will not be thrown down” (Mark 13:2). Is that what his disciples were expecting to hear? Not at all!Could you imagine what their reaction would be? It is like an American standing in front of the White House or a devoted Catholic standing in front of St. Peter’s Square in Rome and then hearing an itinerant preacher announcing the destruction of those iconic buildings. As a matter of fact, we have nothing today that can rightly and appropriately be compared to what the Temple meant for first century Jews. For them, the Temple was in practical sense, the dwelling place of Yahweh. It was the center of Jewish life. And ancient accounts tell us that the Temple was spectacular in its size and in its decoration. It was a wonder to behold in the ancient world.


I have been to the Cathedral of St. Paul here in our Archdiocese a few times. I was there on Monday, October 28, 2024 for the Episcopal ordination of Bishop Kevin Kenney, one of the auxiliary bishops. I tell you, each time I approach that cathedral, I am filled with amazement at its terrific and towering size, its strength and ruggedness, its glory and beauty. I usually think of its spiritual power, and what it means for us as Catholics. Its obvious durability and strength, its towering height and massive size all speak of the  strength and persistence of our faith, hope and love. At the Episcopal ordination of Bishop Kenny, I remember turning to Father John Schmidt and saying to him, “I’m not even sure that any natural disaster will be able to bring down this cathedral. I think it is built to last forever. The stones used in building it are indescribably strong and massive.” And he kind of agreed with me. Could you imagine taking adults for OCIA (The Order of Christian Initiation of Adults) to the cathedral as part of their faith formation, and as they watch, admire with great delight that awesome and extremely sacred place, I said to them, “ the days are coming when every stone of this building will be thrown down?” Imagine the great shock they would have, and I believe some of them might be disappointed with me. That’s probably the way Jesus’ disciples felt. As if that was not enough, Jesus adds, “In those days after that tribulation, the sun will be darkened, the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken” (Mark 13:24-25). Now, he is blithely saying to his disciples as they are relishing a great moment that it is not only the great Temple that will be blown away, but the whole world is going to be destroyed.


Sisters and brothers, how do we read the Lord’s unsettling language? By the way, it will be a great theological mistake to take Jesus’ language as an actual description of cosmological events. Check this out! Right after Jesus made those frightening comments, he said, “Amen I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.” He is talking about the destruction of the Temple; he is also talking about the destruction of time and space, the falling of the stars from the sky, the darkening of the sun and the moon. To make matters worse, he says all of these will happen in “this generation” meaning the generation of his disciples. On the surface, Jesus’ language is very problematic. And if you take his declaration in a strictly literal sense to mean something that will happen in the cosmos, it means Jesus is a liar. It means he is a very bad prophet because we all know that space and time has continued and the universe didn’t end in the first century. That means we are compelled to look at the depth of Jesus’ declaration. We are invited to look at his language with fresh eyes in order to understand exactly what he is speaking about.


Littered in the Gospels is Jesus speaking in parables— the parable of the sower, the parable of the good Samaritan, the parable of the mustard seed and on and on. He also speaks in an exaggerated language called hyperbole in literature— “Call no one on earth your father, you have but one father in heaven,” “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife, and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” etc (Luke 14:26). In today’s Gospel, Jesus is not speaking in parable; he is not speaking in hyperbole, rather he is using the apocalyptic language. The apocalyptic language is a kind of literary genre, a kind of literature. The Book of Daniel in the OT is the best example of apocalyptic literature. The Book of Revelation in the NT is another beautiful example of it. The word “apocalypse” is from the Greek word “apokalypsis” which means “unveiling,” taking the veil away. It does not mean the end of the world. When “apokalypsis was translated into Latin, it came out as “revelatio, which means pulling back of the veil. “Revelatio” gives us the English word revelation. That’s why we call the last book of the Bible the Book of Revelation. It is not the book of the end of the world, rather the book of the great unveiling of hidden truth. Something hidden is being disclosed to us. 


But what’s being unveiled here? What’s being revealed? The death and Resurrection of the Lord! In the densely Passion narratives, we saw all forms of human dysfunction on full display. Jesus is met by hatred, by denial, by betrayal, by violence, by stupidity, by institutional injustice and by incomparable cruelty. He was humiliated by powers and principalities, by the basic assumptions, and by the normal way people organize their lives at the time. All of these brought Jesus to the cross. But then, in that generation, in the time of people who listened to him, Jesus triumphantly rose from the dead. What does that represent? It represents the falling of the sun, the moon and sky and the shaking of the heavenly powers. Why? Because one of the basic principles that impact the way people live their lives is that death is final. Death is absolute. Death is the end. And corrupt political powers have used the fear of death to silence people in order to carry out their dirty activities. But now, through the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus who suffers great injustice in the hands of those powers, and rises from the dead is showing us that death itself does not have the final word. Death does not have the final say. His Resurrection has undermined and damaged the powers of death. And by extension, all those economic and cultural forces by which we run our lives have been shaken. They have fallen to the ground. It was the dying and rising of Jesus that pulled back the veil, and revealed the deepest truth of things— that God’s love is more powerful than death, more powerful than all those institutions that rely on the fear of death. So, we can no longer live our lives the old ways. We can no longer be governed by worldly standards, but by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is now our sun, moon and stars. We can no longer allow the secular culture to set the standard. We can no longer allow corrupt politicians to tell us what to do. The new spiritual GPS is the Holy Spirit. 


May God bless you and give you his peace! 



Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Homily for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B


Trust In God’s Providence 

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

November 10, 2024


In biblical times, widows were very vulnerable figures especially those who had no support and assistance from nuclear or extended family. At that time, there was no welfare assistance, no social security, no medicare or medicaid to support those who lost their means of livelihood. Because women were not breadwinners, they were the most threatened in society. They were habitually exploited by the wealthy and the powerful. This is the reason why the prophets of the Old Testament talk so much about widows and orphans, about God’s love for them and the importance of caring for them.


Our first reading (1 Kings 17:10-16) for today is the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath. What led to their encounter? Fed up by the idolatry of King Ahab, Elijah, the great prophet of Israel confronted King Ahab and then pronounced that a great drought will descend upon the land. Now, don’t read this to mean that God is erratic, and his punishment arbitrary. Don’t see this to mean that when God is offended and is in a bad mood, he recklessly spews out punishment. No! The spiritual physics and the basic spiritual formula in full display here is this: connection to God always leads to life. Connection to God is like planting your tree beside a perennial river. Such a tree will always have enough water and nourishment. But when we detach from God, we suffer serious drought and lifelessness. Not because God is punishing us, but because our detachment from him, our refusal to be loved by God is itself a punishment which we have brought upon ourselves. Jesus, the very incarnation of the God of Israel himself says, “Cut off from me and you will do nothing” (John 15:5). This is what happened because of the idolatry of King Ahab and his wife, Jezebel. 


Now the prophecy of Elijah has come to pass. The effect of the drought is biting hard; water is drying, and nothing is growing. Like everyone else in Israel, Elijah himself falls victim to the drought. He is basically helpless. If nothing is done, Elijah will starve and die. Eventually he hears a message from the Lord, “Arise, go to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow there to feed you” (I Kings 17:9). This is quite strange. The man of God has been asked to seek refuge outside of the territory of Israel. As an immigrant myself, I can tell you that leaving one’s country is not easy. When I came to the USA, specifically to Memphis, Tennessee in 2007, it was very difficult for me. My parish is located on a dead end street. There was basically nothing going on during the weekdays. We didn’t have a cook and I cannot cook. The pastor of the parish is hardly around. Another priest that should have kept me company died two days before my arrival. I did not know anyone. I could not go out because I did not have my driving license yet. To sum it up, I was profoundly lonely. More to it, my greatest phobia is roaches and the rectory had giant roaches that terrorized me at night. It is never an easy venture to leave one’s comfort zone. So, Elijah was summoned by God to leave his nation, Israel and to head to this foreign land for survival. Furthermore, he was called to visit, not a rich person, but an impoverished widow. In the society of his time, women were seen as second class citizens, and a widow was someone without financial and emotional support. She was someone at the bottom of the social ladder. Check this out! Here is Elijah. He is in trouble. He is running out of food and water. Physical death is staring him in the face. And what is God’s solution to his many troubles? Leave your country, go to a foreign land you know nothing about, and when you get there, visit a widow and she will take care of you. I tell you, this is hard. But what’s God up to here? He is summoning Elijah and all of us out of our comfort zones. He is inviting us to trust in his providence. He is asking us to trust not our own instincts, not our own projects and plans, but his project and plan for us. When you are in a dire situation, when the rough wind of life is blowing and tossing you around, when life is extremely harsh and unfair to you, be attentive to the people that God is sending to you. You know, often in the Bible, the great figures of our salvation history are called out of their comfort zone. Our father Abraham was summoned to leave his homeland to a foreign land God promised to show him. Moses was called out of Egypt into the desert. I tell you, it is a summon to trust in God’s providence and not in our own plan and projects. To those who are suffering right now, who are going through a rough time, a time of drought, I invite you to do something counterintuitive— trust in the Lord’s providence. And be alert to the people that God sends to you.


Eventually Elijah arrives in Zarephath and meets the widow in her town. Like everyone else, this widow is also impacted by the effects of the famine. Don’t forget, we are talking about ancient times when there were no government programs to help the poor. And if a woman is a widow, and is running out of food and water, she is basically in pretty desperate condition. This is the shape she is in when prophet Elijah, trusting in God’s commands, comes to her and says, “please bring me a small cupful of water to drink.” After Elijah asks for water, he intensifies his request. Like Oliver Twist, he asks for more. When the widow protests that what she has is just one meal for her and her son before they die, Elijah asks her to make him a cake. At the very bottom of her life, when she has nothing, she is still invited to give and give. I can imagine Elijah saying to himself, “Is this the woman to whom I have been sent to solve my problem of starvation?” Nevertheless he trusts. 


As Elijah promised, “The jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry.” The widow of Zarephath was able to eat for a year with her son because she gave away the very little she had and then found her resources multiplied. She now has enough food to sustain her, her son and the prophet. Why did it work? Because in the moment of truth, these two desperate people trusted in the Lord. With the help of Elijah, the widow of Zarephath stumbled upon what St. Pope John Paul II called the law of the gift: “Your being increases in the measure that you give it away.” The natural instinct in us says, “Accumulate things as much as you want.” “Grab and grab and never share.” “Hold on to them until you have a lot.” “If people want the same thing you want, keep them at bay.” “Keep those possessions, and it will make you happy.” But that view negates the basic sense of the universe, because the creator of the universe is love. Speaking of God, John says that God is love. Love is not something that God does from time to time. It is not one of God’s attributes. It is what God is through and through. Love is the hidden truth of all things. And the way it works is that the more you give of your life, the more the divine grace increases in you. This story is the secret of all the saints. Saints are different. They have different personality, backgrounds, but they all understood the law of the gift. And that’s why they all became sources of life and life-givers. 


If there is anyone out there who is presently experiencing any form of drought, what is God summoning you to do? If the sources of life have dried up, how do you open up those sources? The natural instinct is to conserve, to be stingy, to refuse to share, to cling tightly. But to open up the sources, you have to give even the little that you have. And then you will find it increase in you thirty, sixty and one hundred fold, as Jesus puts it. The spiritual lesson now is this, when you find yourself in a time of drought and famine, when the sources of life seem to have dried up, trust in the Lord. Trust in his providence. Don’t give up. Listen to what is happening around you, be attentive to the people you meet for they may have been sent by God. More to it, give in love even the little that you have. And you are going to find that the resources don’t dry up. In fact, they multiply. 


May God bless you with his peace.


Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Homily for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B


The Strict Logic Of Love

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 3, 2024


In the Judaism of Jesus’ time, there were hundreds of commandments, laws, rules, regulations that governed almost every aspect of Jewish life. So, it was a common practice among the rabbis to inquire from one another what is the greatest, the central commandment, and the organizing principle of the law. Sometimes to ensure clarity and succinctness, a rabbi was compelled to offer this summary while standing on one foot. Following this custom, a scribe in our Gospel today (Mark 12:28-34) comes to Jesus and asks, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” He is basically asking the Lord to identify, from all the many laws they have, the first commandment. What does Jesus say? He answers with what the ancient Israelites referred to as the shema: “Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” I tell you, this requires a closer examination of conscience. In fact, whenever you are preparing to go to confession, begin the examination of your conscience with this first commandment that Jesus gives: Is God the one Lord of my life? Is God the organizing principle of my life? Who or what is competing for my attention? Who or what are God’s rivals for my attention? Who or what is my ultimate concern? You can also turn the question around and simply ask: Does everything in my life absolutely belong to God? 


I can guess what’s going on in your mind right now. You are probably saying to yourself, “But God is a Spirit being. How can I give myself to a reality that I cannot touch or see? This is where the second command that Jesus gives comes into play. When the Lord was asked by a scribe which commandment is the first, he responds with the shema, but then he places a second commandment alongside it, which is, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” After that, he intensifies the inseparability of these two loves by declaring, “There is no other commandment greater than these.” Why does Jesus do that? By the first century AD, there was already in Judaism a recognition that these two commandments— (love of God and love of neighbor) summarized the two tablets of the Decalogue—the Ten Commandment. If you look at the first three commandments inscribed on the first tablet— prohibition of idolatry, prohibition against taking the Lord’s name in vain, and keeping the Sabbath holy, they are all commandments orientated towards the love of God. In the second tablet of the Ten Commandments— honor your father and mother, don’t kill, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, don’t bear false witness, don’t covet your neighbor’s possessions or wife—these commandments are orientated towards love of neighbor. So, what Jesus is essentially doing is condensing the Ten Commandments down to their essence and to their core, and then linking those cores to the two passages of the Scripture: Deuteronomy 6 (love of God) and then Leviticus 19:18 (love of neighbor) which is not part of liturgical prayer, the Shema. 


But why are the two commandments so tightly linked in Christianity? Because of who Jesus is. Our Lord is not simply a human being, and he is not simply God; rather he is the God-man, the one in whose person divinity and humanity meet. So, it is conclusively and definitively impossible to love him as God without loving the humanity that he has, in his own person, embraced. The strict logic at work here is this: when you really love someone, you tend to love, as well, what they love. What does God love? He loves everything and everyone that he has made. God loves your enemies, your haters, your political adversaries. He loves people of other tribes, races and religions. So, if you want to love God, and you find the move difficult because God seems so distant to you, love everyone you come across for the sake of God. Finally, what does this intertwined love of God and neighbor look like? To answer this question, we have to turn to the saints— St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, St. Maximillian Kolbe, St. Oscar Romero, servants of God, Sister Thea Bowman and Dorothy Day and on and on and on. From each of these saints, we learn what it means in practical sense to love God and neighbor.


May God give you peace!

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B


Enduring Lessons From The Narrative Of Blind Bartimaeus

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 27, 2024


The story of blind Bartimaeus is a simple but powerful narrative of one man’s determination to be healed. In Mark’s Gospel (10:46-52), we hear that as Jesus is leaving Jericho with his disciples and a sizable crowd, Bartimaeus, a blind man, the son of Timaeus, who sits by the roadside begging, begins to call out, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” Think about this! Even before he had personal contact with Jesus, he already believed Jesus to be the Messiah. While the Pharisees are portraying Jesus as fake, casting serious and damaging doubt over his authority and aligning him with Beelzebub, the prince of demons (Matthew 12:24), a blind roadside beggar has accepted Jesus to be the One, the long expected Messiah. “Son of David,” which Bartimaeus called Jesus is the title that Matthew used in the opening line of his Gospel to prove to the Jews that Jesus is the promised Messiah (Matthew 1:1). The title is a reference to the Messianic promise in Isaiah 9:6. The Messiah would be a descendant of David whose kingdom would last forever. 


As Bartimaeus cried out to Jesus, the crowd tried to shush him. But he kept calling out more and more, “Son of David, have pity on me.” This time he got the attention of Jesus. “Call him,” the Lord said. Some people went to Bartimaeus and said to him, “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.” I tell you, those others who told him that Jesus was calling him are like the Church, they are like missionaries and evangelists. Telling someone that Jesus is calling him or her is essentially the work of each one of us. Upon hearing that Jesus is calling him, the first thing he did was to throw aside his cloak, which was something of great value to him. He cast aside his old life, just as Peter, Andrew, James and John did. When Jesus called them, all immediately left their fishing nets, their fishing business and their old life to follow him. After casting aside his cloak, Bartimaeus sprang up to his feet. He did not dither, rather, he acted. From the time of throwing aside his cloak to springing up, he did not allow any temptation of doubt to enter. In the presence of Jesus, Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” He told Jesus his greatest desire, “Master, I want to see.” Without delay Jesus speaks the word that completely changed his life: “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” The Lord did not have to touch him for him to receive his sight. His faith in Jesus has already triggered the restoration of his sight. 


Now, there are a few lessons we can learn from the story of blind Bartimaeus. First lesson. Knowing the real identity of Jesus is vitally important. If Bartimaeus knew Jesus as one teacher among the many teachers in Israel, he wouldn’t be motivated to cry out to him for healing. If all he knew about Jesus was merely a nice and gentle figure, Bartimaeus would probably ask Jesus for money or food, after all, he was on the roadside begging. If Bartimaeus’ notion of Jesus was that of a moral teacher, a sage, one of the great figures around, I don’t think he would bother reaching out to him. Our notion of Jesus determines how we relate to him. Bartimaeus called Jesus “Son of David” a title which we hear from the lips of Jesus is an inadequate depiction of himself (Matthew 22:41-45), but what Bartimaeus lacks in his view of Jesus, he makes up with the show of great faith in Jesus. 


Second lesson. Don’t let anyone silence your voice or dampen your passion when you are speaking or chasing after Jesus. Today, our society has increasingly become very secular. People including Christians prefer to talk about sports, entertainment, weather, climate, food, politics and world affairs. Speaking about Jesus, about faith and religious issues have become so rare. Why? Because many religious people have allowed the noise of secularism to silence them. We are now afraid or ashamed to mention the name of Jesus in our conversation. We are even intimidated to utter the blessing words, “God bless you” to someone we want to express gratitude to. It has become more convenient  to talk about great sports men and women, about pop artistes, about celebrities, and about individuals who have done well in the country. But what about Jesus? In Mark 17:37, we hear that people who live in the district of the Decapolis (ten cities), while speaking about Jesus, said, “He has done all things well.” Jesus has not only done all things well, he has significantly altered the course of history. He has impacted everything from western culture and ethics to social structures, due to his teachings on love, compassion, forgiveness, and the worth of every individual. Jesus has taught us what really matters and what really endures. As such, he deserves to be spoken of every day and every time. So, don’t allow the voices of secularism, of godlessness, of consumerism and the undue glorification of science to silence your passion for Jesus. 


Third lesson. Obstacles will be put in your way. Hebrews 12:1-2 encourages us to cast aside every obstacle as we run the race that lies before us. Like Bartimaeus, we have to make a decision to run to God even when things get in our way. The story of blind Bartimaeus should be our story. As many people around us run away from God, we should run towards him regardless of what others say to us. The desire to be with God should be so high and so great that we don’t allow any obstacles to be in our way. Bartimaeus did not let anything— his blindness, the hostile crowd— prevent him from getting to his Savior. 


Fourth Lesson. Stop paying attention to the crowd. Stop listening to the majority. The crowd is hardly correct. The crowd hardly gets it right. At the trial of Jesus, it was the crowd that shouted “Crucify him, crucify him.” But was Jesus guilty? Not at all! Yet, the crowd condemned him. Remember Barabbas. During the trial of Jesus, Pontius Pilate, after examining the case against Jesus, found him innocent. Since it was the Jewish custom that someone is released from prison at the Passover feast, he inquired if Jesus should be released. The crowd again chose Barabbas over Jesus to be released by Pilate. So, stop paying attention to what the crowd is saying. They hardly get it right. In the story of Bartimaeus, the crowd tried to silence him. Had the crowd had their way, Jesus would have walked past the blind man. The crowd is always changing. They usually respond to external stimuli which are prone to change. If you are going to follow your purpose, you cannot base your decisions on a standard that is constantly changing. God never changes. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. Our actions should be based on what he says rather than what the world dictates. 

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Homily for the Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B


Be Careful What You Ask For

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 20, 2024


The idiomatic expression which says, “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it” is often used to warn people to think deep and hard before they say what they want because if that request is granted, it might not make them happy. It is a cautionary tale that encourages us to think properly, to consider the pros and cons of our request before we make it, because what we want may have unexpected negative consequences. It was the great Saint Teresa of Avila who said, “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.” For example, someone who wants to be a manager at work may find that the job has too many responsibilities and he no longer enjoys it. A couple may want and pray for twins without knowing the cost of having twins. About two weeks ago, a young priest said to me over the phone, “Father, you did not tell me this is what my life will become.” This priest was recently installed as a pastor. This is his first time being a pastor. Before then, he had worked as an associate and a hospital chaplain. Previously, he had told me he would like to be made a pastor, and I had actually warned him that if I were him, I would prefer to stay in the hospital as a chaplain. Now, he is a pastor and he is dealing with the different intricacies that come with the work. 


Today’s Gospel readings (Mark 10:35-45) begins with two of Jesus’ disciples grasping for greatness, as they understand it. James and John, the two sons of Zebedee, want to sit at Jesus’ right hand and his left when he comes into his glory. Approaching Jesus, they said, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” After their first request, Jesus indulges them, “What do you wish me to do for you?” They make their second request, “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left.” Now, from their vantage point as Jews, their request makes sense. At this time, the two brothers are convinced that Jesus is the Messiah. And the Messiah is meant to be the king who is going to reign over the twelve tribes of Israel, and by extension, he is going to be the Lord of all nations. That was the expectation of every Jew, and it was also the expectation of these two brothers. Simply stated, James and John want to be Jesus’ prime ministers when he begins to reign as the king of Israel. But they clearly don’t know what that means. And if Simon Peter or any of the Apostles knew the true cost of what the two brothers were asking, they would have said to them, “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.” Jesus offers them a path to greatness, but it is a very different path than the one they had in mind and had imagined.


What is the supreme irony of this story? The two brothers wanted a place of power and honor when Jesus comes into his glory. When does Jesus come into his glory? On the cross where he wears the crown of thorns. James and John wanted the glory of sitting next to Jesus, but what they did not know is that Jesus’ glory is not glory as we know it. They did not understand that Jesus’ kingdom was not of this world (John 18:36). They came to Jesus asking for privileged positions in his anticipated success, his power and glory. But Jesus’ success, power and glory will come through his self-abandonment, passion and death. His success would be to die in order to give us life. Jesus came into the world for that very purpose: to die. That is what he meant by “the cup that I drink” and “the baptism with which I am baptized.” James and John asked for earthly glory, but they would get something far greater than all that is in this world— a far higher kingdom and power and glory, namely, heaven and holiness. They would become saints, not Caesars. They would attain true and permanent happiness and joy, not one that comes and goes. They would be remembered globally long after they lived and died, not just for a time. 


Sisters and brothers, it is okay to have ambitions. It is okay to seek privileged positions. It is okay to aspire for places of honor and power. But seek them for the sake of God. Seek honor for the greater glory of God. Seek for power in order to use it to do the will of God in the world. Do you want power and honor? Ask for them as long as you want them on Jesus’ terms, and not yours. And before you make that request, think properly about it. Be careful what you ask for. Your request may actually be what you don’t want. 


God bless you!

Thursday, October 10, 2024

Homily for the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B



The Highest Adventure Of the Spiritual Life

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 13, 2024


The great French Catholic philosopher Blaise Pascal, made a distinction between the goods of the body, the goods of the mind, and the goods of the heart. The goods of the body are those things that money can buy—a nice place to live, nice car to drive, nice clothes to wear, good and healthy food to eat. In themselves, they are good, but we are not meant to be stuck at that level. We must move towards the goods of the mind which transcend any of the goods of the body. And what are those? Blaise Pascal says they are philosophy, metaphysics, mathematics and higher sciences. Why are these important? He said they make you more refined and bring you to a more refined world. But Blaise Pascal said that beyond the goods of the body and the goods of the mind are the goods of the heart. What are they? They are those values, those things associated with God.


Today’s Gospel is the narrative of a rich young man. This story must have struck a strong cord for the authors of the Gospels because it appeared in all the synoptic Gospels. Matthew wrote about it. He says the man was young and rich. Luke wrote about it. He says the man was an official and rich. Mark also wrote about it. He says the man was rich. This unnamed man has four things to be admired of— money, political power, social power, the energy and enthusiasm of youth. These four things, in themselves are good, but without wisdom, knowledge from on high, they can be misused, abused, and idolized and can become addictions. In every way, this young man is a good man. Mark says that as soon as he sees Jesus, he runs to him, kneels before him and then asks the most important of all the questions anyone can ask in this life: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” I tell you, there is something absolutely right about this young man, something spiritually alive, something so powerful that it should never be ignored, and that is his profound desire to share in everlasting life. He is looking for what Blaise Pascal calls “goods of the heart,” those things associated with God. 


Look at it this way. He has the goods of the body. The Gospel says he is wealthy, which means he can afford all the pleasures of this world. He also has the goods of the mind. How do we know that? This is evident from the fact that he called Jesus “good” and “teacher.” Obviously he has been listening to Jesus’ teaching. He has been taking it all in. The Lord’s teachings have evidently refined his mind and thought. Now, he wants the goods of the heart, which are those things associated with God. And where can he get them? Not from the world. Not from his vast resources. Not from the company of fellow rich people, not from his social status, but from God himself. So, he comes to Jesus. Although he has all the goods of the body and the goods of the mind, he implicitly knows they are not enough. If they were enough, he would not bother an itinerant preacher. He knows that the goods of this world, no matter how great they are, are not eternal. They don’t and can’t satisfy the deepest longing of the heart. 


How does Jesus respond to his crucially important question? He takes him to the commandments. Jesus enumerates many of the commandments. The rich young man considers it, and then replies, “Teacher, all these I have observed from my youth.” He has covered the basis; he has eliminated the fundamental violations of love. This is a sign that this man is spiritually serious. Reading his heart, Jesus senses he is being honest, and with love he says to him, “You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have. Give it to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come and follow me.” Actually, this is the pivotal moment of this story. This is the rising or falling point of the story. The young man is a good man. He has good instincts. He has the goods of the body, but he is not stuck at that level. He is seeking for the highest goods, the goods of the heart. He comes to Jesus in search of the goods of the heart. Jesus looks at him and sees that although he is a spiritually serious young man, he is still too drawn, too attached to the goods of the body, the goods of the world. He still has the tendency to switch back to the goods of the body— power, wealth, honor and pleasure. So, Jesus invites him to set aside those things and to follow him to the height, to the height of spiritual life. He invites him to a great spiritual adventure. Jesus points to him what it would take for him to inherit eternal life. What does the rich young man do now? 


At this point, we hear one of the saddest lines in the whole Bible, “…his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions.” You know, it is so rare in the Gospel that Jesus calls someone and the person does not respond. When he called Matthew, Matthew got up and followed him. When Jesus called James and John to follow him, they left everything including their father and followed him. When Peter said to Jesus, “Depart from me for I am a sinful man,” Jesus did not depart from him, instead he called him to become a fisher of men. As for the rich young man, he went away sad. He is looking for eternal life, but at a decisive moment, he tragically balks. He decisively refuses to comply. He allows his many possessions to possess him. What is this young man lacking even though he keeps all the commandments? What is going to prevent him from entering eternal life? Two things! First, his attachment to his wealth. Second, his unwillingness to follow Jesus as a disciple. The Lord is basically saying that you not only have to keep the commandments, you also have to detach yourself from your possessions and then come and follow him as his disciple. Following Jesus, so to speak, is the eleventh commandment. Detachment is actually freedom. We are enslaved to whatever we cannot part with that is material. We need detachment from everything that is not God. My late mother used to say, “That which you think is greater than God, don’t give it to me. I don’t want it.” So, it is all about detachment from the goods of the body and then giving ourselves to our Lord Jesus Christ. The Buddha did not know of Jesus, but he knew the human race very well. He taught that the source of all human misery and suffering is attachment, “grasping” or greed, or selfishness. In Luke’s version of the Beatitude, Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor.” Is Jesus glorifying economic poverty? Not at all. He is basically saying, “How lucky you are if you are not addicted to material things.” Authentic freedom does not come from clinging to things, but by detaching from things. What is your attachment? Are you willing to let it go and to follow Jesus? 


God bless you!

Homily on the Solemnity of Christ the King

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