Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Year A

On The Three Persons Whom The Lord Raised

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, March 22, 2026

In the Gospels, Jesus raised three people from the dead. The first was a young girl, the 12-year-old daughter of a synagogue official named Jairus (Mark 5:22-24, 35-43). When Jairus saw Jesus standing near the sea, he approached him, fell at his feet, and begged earnestly, saying, “My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay your hands on her so she may get well and live” (Mark 5:23). After hearing Jairus’ plea, Jesus went with him. But while they were still on the way, some people from Jairus’ house came to him and said, “Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” She died in the house while Jesus was still on his way. Still, Jesus raised her from the dead with the words, “Talitha Koum,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” (Mk. 5:41). The second person Jesus raised was the only son of the widow of Nain (Luke 7:11-17). Jesus and his disciples were heading to the city of Nain. As they approached the city gate, they saw a funeral procession for a man who had just died. When Jesus saw the poor widow weeping, he moved forward, touched the coffin, and raised the dead man by saying, “Young man, I tell you, arise!” The third person was Lazarus, a name meaning “God has helped.” The raising of Jairus’ daughter, the widow’s son, and Lazarus, according to St. Augustine, represents three types of sinners; it shows Christ's power to raise souls from different stages of spiritual death, whether the sin is hidden in the heart, acted upon, or habitual. 

These biblical stories are true accounts. Jesus genuinely raised these individuals physically from the dead. However, St. Augustine’s meditation on each of the three miracles can help us better understand what Jesus did. St. Augustine recognizes that the Gospels operate on different levels. He also understands that the Gospel writers communicate deep spiritual truths through these miraculous acts. What does the death and raising of Jairus's daughter symbolize? Remember, she died in the house. St. Augustine says she represents the spiritual death within our minds and hearts. This is a sinner who has consented to sin in their heart but has not yet acted upon it (sin hidden inside the house). They have not yet expressed it outwardly, which is a good thing; however, it is still poisoning us internally. This causes us to quietly think, “Gosh, I can’t stand him!” “What mean and nasty idiot.” “I can’t wait for her to be gone.” Resentments! Old grudges! Bitterness! These dysfunctions may not be voiced or acted out, which is good, but they still fester inside, poisoning our thoughts, will, and imagination. Sometimes we might lie or deceive ourselves by claiming to be good people simply because our spiritual dysfunctions have not yet shown in our actions, but Jesus is not satisfied with that. He wants to enter those spaces where unspoken evil thoughts have caused death and bring them back to life. He desires to heal us from that spiritual death. 

The second case involves the son of the widow of Nain. The young man is already dead and is being carried outside the house to the cemetery for burial. Augustine explains that he symbolizes a sinner who has not only thought about sin but has also acted on it, though not habitually. Resentment, anger, grudges, and bitterness begin to appear in our words, gestures, and actions. At this point, we start engaging in behavior that harms others. We make dangerous, divisive comments. This indicates a deep spiritual death. However, Jesus also wants to heal us from this kind of spiritual death. He wants to restore us to life. The third person Jesus raises from the dead is our brother Lazarus. Lazarus has been carried out of the house, placed in a tomb, and by the time Jesus arrives, he has been in the tomb for four days. When Jesus asks that the stone covering the tomb be removed, Lazarus's sister Martha exclaims, “Lord, by now there will be a stench.” How does St. Augustine interpret this? In his view, Lazarus in the grave represents the most severe case: a sinner who has become accustomed to sin. The sinner is not only dead but buried and decomposing (habitual sin). That evil, spiritual death, once hidden in the mind and heart, eventually becomes a persistent part of our lives. That anger, hatred, resentment, negative thoughts, etc., have become so ingrained in daily life that they begin to affect us and those around us. When this happens, we start to “stink”—meaning we begin to negatively influence others. Our own spiritual death is no longer just our problem but one that affects many others.

Sisters and brothers, every Lent, the Church asks us to take a moral inventory of our lives. Lent is a good time to examine each type of spiritual death—the internal, the external, and the most corrupt part of our lives that impacts others. If Jesus is willing to go to the tomb of Lazarus and bring him back to life, he will also go to the deepest, most corrupt, darkest, and most troubled states and invite us back to life. Some of the saddest comments I hear from people are: “Father, believe me, I am not worthy to serve in the capacity you are asking me to serve;” “Father, what I have done is so bad that I don’t think God will forgive me;” “Father, I don’t go to confession because there is no need, no point in going. It is just too much.” People who say such things are suggesting that their spiritual death has become so complete, so corrupt, that they are beyond God's reach. But the Gospel story of Lazarus says, WRONG! No one, not even those who believe they are trapped in evil, is beyond the forgiving power of Jesus Christ. He goes even to those darkest places to find us and bring us out. But we must allow him to enter inside us. 

Two details about Lazarus's raising that are often overlooked involve Jesus's actions when he reached the tomb. The Gospel states that Jesus was deeply troubled as he approached it. Jesus, the very embodiment of Yahweh, groans as he nears. What does that signify? St. Augustine interprets it as God’s profound pain at our dysfunction. If God's glory is a human being fully alive, then when we fail to flourish, God in Christ is disturbed. He groans with a strong desire to help us out of that state. The second detail appears in what we now call the shortest verse in the Bible: “Jesus Wept!” This is God weeping for us because of our sin. It breaks God’s heart when we are not fully alive. God isn’t weeping out of anger. He's not groaning because he’s upset with us. He is groaning and weeping because we are not alive, and he longs for us to be. 

What are we supposed to do? The answer is in the Gospel of John: “Take away the stone” (John 11:39). Many people feel stuck and living in darkness. They believe they can't rescue themselves from their situation. They feel like they are in a tomb, with a stone blocking their way and no one to help. As a result, they become fearful and hopeless. The good news is that Jesus’ power surpasses any power of sin. After the stone was rolled away, Jesus spoke with authority, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man rises and comes out. Imagine the Lord naming you, calling your name even if you’re in the darkest corner of spiritual life, and saying to you, “Come out!” Jesus wants us fully alive, for that is His glory. He desires us to thrive and be alive. Again, we must let Him help us. “Take away the stone.” Remove the addiction, the habitual sin, the spiritual dysfunction. Remove the stone—everything that causes you to stumble and fall repeatedly. If the stone isn’t removed, you cannot rise from this spiritual death. 

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year A

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Spiritual Blindness Weakens Our Will And Clouds Our Mind

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, March 15, 2026

We are now in the middle of Lent. Last Sunday, we read the story of the woman at the well (John 4:5-42). This Sunday, we hear the story of the man born blind. Next Sunday, we will read about the raising of Lazarus from the dead. I tell you, these three stories, full of great characters, meaningful dialogues, and powerful insights, teach us a lot about who Jesus Christ is, what he means, and how he influences us. In the story of the woman at the well, Jesus reveals himself as the Living Water. In today's story, the healing of the man born blind, Jesus proclaims: “I am the light of the world.” 

The story says that when Jesus’ disciples saw the man born blind, they asked, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Why did they ask that question? They are looking for a way to blame him. But Jesus, operating from a correct vision, responds, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be revealed through him.” Meaning, he will be used to manifest the glory of God. Jesus shows compassion to him and now wants to bring him to a correct vision. Then he utters one of the greatest lines in John’s Gospel: “I am the light of the world,” meaning I am the light by which you see, in which you move, without which you stumble. If you want to see clearly and correctly, be grafted unto me, and see things the way I see them. When St. Paul says, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me,” he is witnessing to this very reality. He is saying that Christ’s light is illuminating his life from within. 

After that, Jesus approaches the man. He spits on the ground, forms a mud paste, and uses it to anoint the man. The great St. Augustine said the spittle represents the divinity of Christ, while the dirt symbolizes His humanity. What is happening here? Why are these three steps part of the miracle? Didn’t Mary teach Jesus any manners about spitting like that? Although it might seem gross, it connects to another event in the Old Testament. In the Book of Genesis, we learn that God created Adam from the dust of the ground. In the first century of Judaism, there was a long-standing tradition (found in the Dead Sea Scrolls) that God created Adam from spittle and clay. The Dead Sea Scrolls mention that Adam, or man, was made from “spat saliva molded clay.” What is Jesus doing here? He is acting as God did in the Old Testament. He is performing an act of new creation.

After that, he tells the man to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam, and after he washes, his sight is restored. Why the pool? It is symbolic of baptism. Baptism signifies that we are drawn to Jesus and share in His life. One of the earliest descriptions of baptism is a “door to the sacred or door to the spiritual life.” It is through it that we enter the Church and learn how to see properly. In the Church, we teach each other how to see. Last week, during the announcement, I said something that may have shocked some of you. I said, “I encourage you to encourage me,” and that’s very true. We teach and show each other how to see clearly and properly as Christ sees. When someone says to you, “You are not seeing that right; you are not looking at the world as a Christian,” that’s the Church—the community of the baptized—helping you to see. 

At this point, the story should be over. Jesus finds a man born blind, makes a paste of his saliva and ground clay, rubs it into his eyes, and tells him to go and wash in the pool. He follows the instructions and then returns able to see. However, in John’s Gospel, that’s not the end of the story. In fact, what happens next is something we have seen many times before. Jesus performs a remarkable act of healing, demonstrating God’s creative power. How do people react? Sometimes they are amazed, grateful, and praise God. But often, the reaction is one of outrage, anger, rejection, disappointment, and accusation. In this story, the Pharisees tried everything they could to undermine what Jesus had done. First, they claimed that the man simply looked like the man born blind, suggesting it wasn’t really him. The man responded, “I am.” Then they tried to use the law to discredit him: because Jesus made clay and opened the man’s eyes on a Sabbath, they denied knowing where Jesus was from, insisting that he was not from God. They claimed he was a sinner. But in a beautiful declaration, the blind man said, “If he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.” The simple statement he is making is this: I have come to true vision through Jesus Christ.

But why did these Jewish authorities go to such lengths to deny and undermine Jesus? You could say they were trying to avoid giving credit to Jesus to keep their hostility toward Him alive and resist accepting Him as the Messiah. If they acknowledged Jesus's work and ministry, the question would then be, why are they resisting Him? Even the disciples of the Pharisees would wonder why. So, the simplest approach is to reject, renounce, oppose, and deny Jesus and everything He is doing. But there is another reason, and it is at the beginning of the story. Upon seeing the man born blind, the disciples immediately asked Jesus, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” The Pharisees were looking for a scapegoat to blame. They saw themselves as disciples of Moses, that is, the good ones. They defined themselves by pointing to someone outside their group, someone worthy of blame and shame. But by curing this man, Jesus announces, ‘stop the blame game, end the fingerpointing, cease the scapegoating.’ More to it, the Lord restores him to the community. He wants him fully involved and fully alive. But the Pharisees and the disciples do not want him in the community. They want him excluded. The right vision here is to see as God sees, that is, to see that all of us are connected to one another. The great Church Father, Origen, said that “to be holy is to see with the eyes of Christ.” On the outside, we look different. Our skin colors are different. We are Caucasians, blacks, and browns. Some are born in this country; some are born outside it. Some originated from Europe, South America, Asia, Africa, etc. Those distinctions are true and real. But holy and godly Christians do not stress and emphasize those. Because they see as Christ sees, they know that all of us are connected to each other. The Pharisees are blind but don’t see it. They want a world full of division and separation. But Jesus wants us to see as God sees— that all of us are connected to God and therefore to each other. 

God bless you! 

Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent, Year A

Only God Fulfills the Infinite Desire 

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, March 8, 2026

Littered throughout the Bible is the theme of thirst: our thirst for God and God’s thirst for us. In the Book of Psalms, we read, “As the deer thirsts for the running stream, so my soul is thirsting for you, my God” (Psalm 42:1). As we all know, thirst is a basic human desire. When you have walked outside in the sun and you’re thirsty, the thirst is usually so intense and relentless that you must drink to satisfy it. That’s the image the Psalmist uses to express our thirst for God. One of the most powerful declarations of Jesus, as he hung on the cross, is “I thirst” (John 19:28). In a literal, physical sense, God in human form was thirsty for water because of the crucifixion. But in a symbolic and spiritual sense, he thirsts for humanity's souls. He thirsts for you and me. 

In today’s Gospel (John 4:5-42), the theme of thirst is on full display. Jesus is in the town of Samaria, during the hottest part of the day, around noon. Weary from a long walk, he sits down at the well. There, he meets a Samaritan woman who has come to draw water. The woman at the well embodies the human race’s thirst for God. Jesus says to her, “Give me a drink” (John 4:7). In other words, Jesus is saying to her, “I thirst,” or “I am thirsty.” What brought the woman to the well? She was thirsty. So we have two thirsty people meeting: the mysterious God’s thirst for us and the human thirst for God.  Although God does not need us in the same way, God thirsts for us. St. Augustine teaches that Jesus is thirsty for her faith; Jesus is thirsty for her response. God’s passion to set things right and to share his life and love with us is a kind of thirst. Salvation happens when God’s infinitely powerful desire for us meets our desire for God. Our thirst for God is always trumped by God’s thirst for us. 

What is the woman’s reaction to Jesus’ request? She is surprised and feels somewhat insulted. She is doubly shocked by Jesus’ move and question. Then she asks, “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” In Jesus’ time, Jews had nothing to do with Samaritans. Moreover, it was generally forbidden and considered inappropriate for a Jewish man, especially a rabbi, to speak to a woman alone in public, even his own wife or daughter. But because Jesus’s approach and teachings were radically counter-cultural, he says to her, “Give me a drink.” At this point, Jesus says, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” What is living water? Grace. The divine life. That’s what he has come to offer the world. Then Jesus makes a distinction between the water from the well and the living water he offers: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst.” What is the Lord saying? You come to this well every day to draw water. You drink it, but it does not satisfy you for long. But I want to give you grace, the divine life, which will permanently satisfy your thirst. What is being described here is the play between concupiscence and desire for God. In my sermon last week, I said we are not for this world; we are meant for God. We are wired for God. Only God can truly satisfy the deepest hunger. The great St. Augustine puts it well, “Lord, you have made us for yourself, therefore our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

As the conversation continues, Jesus tells her, “Go call your husband and come back.” She answers, “I do not have a husband.” Jesus replies, “You are right in saying, ‘I do not have a husband.’ For you have had five husbands, and the man you are with now is not your husband.” Then the woman says, “Sir, I can see that you are a prophet.” What is happening in this back-and-forth exchange? In first-century Judea, a husband was the legal, spiritual, and economic head of the household, responsible for protecting and providing for his family. By asking her to go call her husband, Jesus was symbolically asking for what controls and guides her life. But who are these five husbands she has had? St. Augustine explains they represent the five senses that have dominated her life. Before meeting Jesus, she had been seeking the beautiful things that the eyes see, the beautiful sounds the ears hear, and the beautiful objects she could touch. She has also been dominated by sensual pleasure. The five senses are not evil in themselves, but they should not be our husbands or the forces that govern our lives. That’s why Augustine says that what we have here is a kind of marriage proposal. Jesus is indirectly saying, “I want to be your husband. I want to be the power that governs your life. Let me live in you so that I might lead your mind, will, creativity, and sensuality.” The Church Fathers often spoke of the marriage of heaven and earth that Jesus brought about. The woman at the well is a kind of bride, and Jesus is proposing himself as the Bridegroom. 

I love how the exchange reaches a beautiful conclusion. The woman is so impressed by Jesus and what he offers her that she runs into the city and announces him. She leaves her water jar and goes into the town, saying, “Come see a man who told me everything I have done.” Did she tell her everything she has ever done? Of course not! He did not recount her entire life in detail. But he has uncovered and revealed the secret of her life and what influences everything she has done, which is, her desire. And that desire has guided her actions. So, she proclaims Jesus and wants everyone to know about him. In doing so, she becomes the first evangelist in John’s Gospel, the first to proclaim Christ. She has been healed and set free. She now knows where to find the living water. And she wants her community to know about Jesus, the one who made her new life possible. When you read a great book, watch a great movie, or meet a great person, what do you want to do? You want everyone to know about it. This is the call to evangelization. If you have been healed and set free by our Lord Jesus Christ, bring everyone into it just as this woman has done. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent, Year A

A Taste Of Heaven: Reflecting On The Transfiguration of Jesus

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent, Year A

St. Alphonsus Catholic Church, Brooklyn Center, MN

Sunday, March 1, 2026

The narrative of the Transfiguration of Jesus is familiar to many of us, yet for some, the meaning of the fourth luminous mystery remains unclear. Before we dive into the meaning of this mysterious and wonderful story, let us recap the narrative. In Matthew 17:1-9, we hear that on his way to Jerusalem, where he will be crucified, Jesus takes his closest disciples, Peter, James, and John, to Mount Tabor. There, he was transfigured. Matthew says, “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light.” Then he was joined by two great figures who had long passed, Moses and Elijah. Having experienced this extraordinary sight, Peter blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” As Peter was still speaking, a voice came from the cloud, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” Upon hearing that voice, the disciples fell to the ground, seized by fear. After that, Jesus reached out and touched them, saying, “Rise, and do not be afraid.” When they raised their eyes, they realized they were alone with Jesus again. Moses and Elijah had gone. 

I tell you, the scene of the Transfiguration has captivated theologians, poets, and artists for centuries. But why is the Transfiguration such a big deal? What does this event mean? Why does the Church ask us, especially during Lent, to consider it? What are Moses and Elijah doing there? The first interpretive key to understanding the Transfiguration is that it offers us a glimpse, a quick look, and a peep of the joy that awaits us. In his magnificent work, the Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas Aquinas writes, “It was fitting that Christ be manifested in all his glory because those who are walking on arduous paths need from time to time a clear sense of their goal.” We all know that life is hard. Life is difficult. Life doesn’t get easier. It comes with its trials, dangers, difficulties, failures, depression, fear, death, sickness, and loss of relatives and friends. As we make our way through this difficult life, we need to know our goal. Christians should not live like driftwood, not knowing where they are going, what life means, or their purpose. What is the goal of this journey? The beatific vision, the life of heaven, the transfigured state God has designed for us. Life on earth is a journey, and as we embark on it, it is critically important that we get a glimpse of the end from time to time. 

The disciples have been walking this difficult path with the Lord. And Jesus has even made the journey more difficult, more frightening, and more dangerous. He has been undoing certain norms and traditions, getting on the nerves of the Pharisees, the chief priests, and the elders of the people. He has been predicting his arrest, his suffering, and his crucifixion on the cross. To say that the one they had come to believe in as the long-expected Messiah is going to be humiliated and killed by his enemies would disqualify anyone from being the true Messiah. In the midst of all this, what is going to give them the courage to go on? It is the glimpse of glory they witnessed on Mount Tabor. The Transfiguration offers his first disciples, and disciples up and down the centuries, the glory that finally awaits us in the end. 

Listen up, everybody! We are not meant for this world. We are meant for a transfigured existence beyond it. The goal of the spiritual life is to become a saint. Never forget this. The reason for attending Mass, using the sacraments, praying, practicing the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, striving to be upright and holy, loving your neighbor, and forgiving those who offend you is ultimately to become a saint. Never allow anything in this world to derail or distract you from that goal. If you aspire to be rich but can’t attain it, do not throw away your faith. Whatever goods of the world you long for and dream of, if you cannot achieve them, do not slip into hopelessness. We are not meant for this world but for a transfigured existence in heaven. Is this a childish fantasy? Not at all! It is a transcendent goal held out to all of us. The Catechism of the Catholic Church describes the Transfiguration as the sacrament of our Resurrection: “The Transfiguration gives us a foretaste of Christ’s glorious coming, when he ‘will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body’ [Phil 3:21]” (CCC 556). The Transfiguration gives us the confidence that although our frail bodies cause us so much hardship and grief, one day we will be transfigured just like Christ’s.

In conclusion, why were there five witnesses to the Transfiguration: Moses, Elijah, Peter, James, and John? The great St. Thomas Aquinas, in his Summa Theologiae, said that because Christ transcends space and time, is for all time, for all space, and for all nations, it is fitting that Moses and Elijah, who represent the old and past history that Jesus recapitulates and saves, be present at the Transfiguration. As for Peter, James, and John, they stand for the present and the future because, through their preaching, Christ's message would go out to all ages. So, on the mountain, the past, present, and future gathered to witness the manifestation of Christ’s glory. To be more specific, Moses is the lawgiver. Through him came the old Law, the Ten Commandments, the Torah. Who is the new Moses? Jesus Christ. Because Christ is the giver of the New Law, the definitive Law, the new covenant in his Blood, as he said the night before he died. What about Elijah? For the biblical Jews, Elijah was the greatest of prophets. He sums up the life and ministry of the prophets, which is to proclaim God’s truth and to speak God’s Word. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Amos, etc., are speakers of the divine word. Who is Jesus? He is not just the speaker of the Divine Word; he is the Divine Word. So, he is the new and last Elijah, the greatest prophet who transcends all the prophets. He is God’s own Word made flesh. As for Peter, James, and John, why are they there to witness the Transfiguration? Aquinas said that Peter is there because he loved the Lord most. Three times Jesus asked him, “Peter, do you love me?” And three times he declared his love for the Lord. Why is John there? Because he is the one that Christ loved the most. He is the beloved disciple. Why is James there? Because he is the first Apostle to die a martyr’s death out of love for Christ. How do we have access to the glory of Jesus Christ? It is through our love for him. Christianity is about falling in love with Jesus. Do you want access to divine glory? Love the Lord! He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 

God bless you!

Homily for the First Sunday of Lent, Year A

The Five Priceless Lessons Of The Temptation Of Jesus

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the First Sunday of Lent, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, February 22, 2026 

Every First Sunday of Lent, the Church takes us into the desert, where there is no distraction, no applause, no comfort—only hunger, temptation, and the voice of God. I tell you, the temptation of Jesus is not merely a story about what happened long ago. For us modern people, it is a wake-up call to the reality that temptation can happen to anyone, no matter how deeply spiritual you are. More than that, it shines a spotlight on how we can overcome it. Today, accompany me as we reflect on five enduring lessons from this sacred encounter.

First lesson: The Spirit Sometimes Leads Us into the Desert. At the beginning of today’s Gospel (Matthew 4:1-11), we hear that “Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil.” Notice that it was not the devil who led Him there first—it was the Spirit. This shows that not every difficult season in our lives means God has abandoned us. Sometimes the Spirit leads us into places of testing so we may grow stronger. The desert reveals what is in our hearts. It strips away illusions and exposes attachments. Lent itself is a desert season—a time of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving—not to weaken us but to strengthen us spiritually. If you find yourself in a desert experience—loneliness, confusion, dryness in prayer—do not panic. The Spirit may be at work.

Second lesson: Temptation Often Targets Our Legitimate Needs. After forty days of fasting, Jesus was hungry. The devil said, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.” Is there anything wrong with bread? Not at all! Is hunger bad? No! The temptation was not about food—it was about using power for self-gratification and avoiding the will of God. The devil often tempts us not with evil things but with good things pursued in the wrong way or at the wrong time. Comfort. Success. Recognition. Security. How does Jesus respond to the second temptation? He says, “One does not live by bread alone.” We must remember that while we have physical needs, our deepest hunger is spiritual. No amount of bread—money, pleasure, or achievement—can satisfy the soul’s deepest hunger. Only God can. 

Third lesson: The Devil Can Quote Scripture. In the second temptation, the devil quotes Psalm 91, urging Jesus to throw Himself down from the Temple. Even the enemy can twist sacred words. This is a powerful warning. Not everyone who quotes Scripture speaks the truth. Scripture can be twisted to justify pride, division, or selfish agendas. Jesus responds with Scripture rightly understood: “You shall not put the Lord, your God, to the test.” This teaches us to know the Word deeply—not superficially. A shallow knowledge of Scripture leaves us vulnerable. A prayerful, obedient knowledge of Scripture makes us strong.

Fourth lesson: Every temptation is a choosing moment. In the final temptation, the devil offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the world in exchange for worship: “All these I shall give to you, if you will prostrate yourself and worship me.” Jesus responds firmly: “The Lord, your God, shall you worship and Him alone shall you serve.” Whenever you feel an urge to do something wrong or contrary to your Christian values, you stand at a crossroads, choosing between two paths: yielding to the temptation (sin) or resisting it (righteousness). Remember, temptation itself is not a failure or a sin. Yielding to it is. So, see temptation as an opportunity for character formation and growth. Every day, we are invited to choose whom we worship—not necessarily with incense and candles, but with our priorities, time, and decisions. What do we serve most? What do we sacrifice for? That is our true god.

Fifth lesson: The devil does not have the final say. After Jesus resists the devil, we are told: “Then the devil left Him, and angels came and ministered to Him.” Listen, everyone, temptation is always a suggestion or enticement to do what is wrong. It is an allurement to seriously consider evil. But remember, it is only a suggestion. The devil does not have the final word. He cannot force you or make you do what is contrary to the will and laws of God. The power to resist him is in you. The moral and spiritual energy to say no to him is within you. Jesus did not defeat the devil with dramatic displays of power. He defeated him through obedience to the Father. That should be our path, too. We may not command stones to become bread. We may not stand on the pinnacle of the Temple. We may not be offered kingdoms of the world. But every day we are offered choices—between trust and control, between humility and pride, and between worship and idolatry.

Sisters and brothers, the desert is not a place of defeat. It is a place of decision, where identity is clarified. Notice how each temptation begins: “If you are the Son of God…” The devil attacks identity. How does Jesus respond? Not by proving Himself, but by trusting the Father. Our greatest strength is knowing who we are: beloved children of God. As we journey through Lent, may we enter the desert with courage. May we fast not only from food but also from sin. May we cling to the Word. May we worship God alone. And when we are tempted, may we remember: the same Spirit who led Jesus into the desert dwells within us. The desert does not defeat those who belong to Christ. It prepares them for the mission.

God bless you!

Homily for the Sixth Sunday in the Ordinary Time, Year A

The Intensification Of The Law

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Sixth Sunday in the Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, February 15, 2026

In the first century, when a Rabbi teaches, he usually traces his teaching back to another Rabbi who taught him, then to another, and all the way back to Moses, who received the Torah from God. So the Torah was the ultimate Law, the final and highest authority for Jews at that time. But as Jesus continues to lay out his basic teaching in the Sermon on the Mount, what do we hear? He says, “You have heard that it was said,” that is, in the Torah. But after that, he adds, “But now I say…” When you hear those words, I guess you didn’t pay much attention to them, but you should, because that would have mortally shocked any first-century Jew. What is going on here? Jesus is affirming his divinity. The only one who could rightly say that has to be the one who is himself the Author of the Torah. So, with full authority as the New Moses and as God incarnate, Jesus gives the law. 

Listen up, everyone. Jesus is not against Moses. He is not repealing the Torah. When I first joined the Catholic Charismatic Renewal in Nigeria, I heard some of my Renewal teachers, whom I still respect to this day, explain the relationship between the Old and New Testaments in a rather simplistic way, saying, “In the Old Testament, Moses gave us the Law, rules, and regulations. But in the new dispensation, the New Testament, Jesus comes with the liberating word of Grace.” They would go on and on, hyper-stressing the abundance of grace in our time. But that is completely alien to the Bible. There is grace in both the Old and New Testaments. There is also law in both the Old and New Testaments. What is the clearest indication that Jesus is not against the Law? From his own lips we hear, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets. I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. Amen, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law” (Matthew 5:17-18). So, Jesus is not abolishing or negating the law; rather, he intensifies the law of Moses in his Sermon on the Mount.  

The first intensified law is this: “You have heard that it was said to your ancestors, You shall not kill; and whoever kills will be liable to judgment. But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment” (Matthew 5:21-22). Is taking another’s life bad? Absolutely! It is forbidden by the Ten Commandments. But Jesus wants us to go deeper. What is the root cause of taking someone’s life, and where does it come from? It comes from deep-seated hatred. It comes from the anger inside us that hasn’t been resolved. Jesus wants the corrective power of the law to go beyond behavior and reach the heart. He is interested in addressing the source of our bad actions. Furthermore, he says, “You have heard that it was said, You shall not commit adultery” (Matthew 5:27). Again, this prohibition is in the Ten Commandments. But now, the author of that Law says, “But I say to you, everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matthew 5:28). Are adultery and other sexual sins bad behavior? Yes! But where do they come from? They come from dysfunctional places inside of us. They come from inordinately looking at a woman, objectifying her, and turning her into simply an object for pleasure. To some degree, this is a form of slavery. Objectifying women is a form of “modern slavery.” The rampant production of pornography in our culture is “modern slavery,” too. Some might argue that its use occurs in the privacy of people’s homes and that it is a private matter. But the stubborn fact is that its users are objectifying people for their own pleasure. Jesus wants the law to reach beyond behavior into the depths of the heart. Remember the “Me Too Movement?” I tell you, the best part of that movement is coming from Christianity. The ground for it is in Jesus’ great Sermon on the Mount. If you look at a woman with lust in your heart, Jesus says you have already committed adultery. 

Why is the Lord giving us these new rules and laws? The interpretive key to the entire Sermon is this: “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). I have said before that Jesus has not come to make us good people; he wants to go beyond that. He wants us to be perfect as God is perfect. We may not be guilty of murder. We may not have committed adultery. We may not be stealing. But if in the depths of our hearts we are lusting after these things, Jesus says we are equally guilty. We are not perfect as our heavenly Father is. The Lord is taking the law from the exterior to the interior. Why? Jesus is not interested in spiritual mediocrity. If you are saying something like: “Hey, I am doing okay. I am not a murderer. I am not a bad guy. I am not that bad. I am not adulterous or a fornicator,” you are setting the bar very low. Jesus is not interested in that, and neither is the Church. The ordinary goal of the Christian life is to be a saint. That’s the holy grail! The purpose of every sacrament is to draw us into the Divine life in such a way that we can say with Paul, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). Christ must live both in my behavior and in my heart!

Now, in your Christian journey, beware of those who want to water down the moral demands of Jesus, especially in sexual ethics. They accuse the Church of being too rigid, too strict, too invasive, and too demanding. I once lived with a Redemptorist who was fond of saying, “The Church should get out of the bedrooms.” Well, if that is your view, don’t blame the Church for insisting on perfection. Don’t blame the Church for not being interested in spiritual mediocrity. The Bride of Christ did not set the standard; Jesus himself did. Are you frightened by the Lord’s call to be perfect? Don’t be! Why? Approach the spiritual life by drawing on the pontifical teachings of Pope John Paul II and Pope Francis. Throughout his papacy, St. John Paul II emphasized a high and demanding moral ideal. He challenged young people to aspire to be great saints rather than settle for mediocrity. But here is where the rubber meets the road: When I fail to meet these demands, what do I do? Give up? Not at all! The Church also insists on the vast and infinite mercy of God. The central theme of Pope Francis’ papacy is the Divine Mercy, that God is merciful, reaches out to sinners, to those who are bowed down, to those who are wounded, and to those on the margins of society. Throughout his papacy, he invites people to the Field Hospital, the Church. Both of these two great figures of our faith help us to understand Jesus. Don’t choose one and reject the other. Take them both. The Church is extreme in her demands and in the mercy she offers. 

God bless you!