Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints

The Two Paths To Holiness And Sainthood

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 1, 2026

This year, we are blessed to celebrate the Solemnity of the Blessed on a Sunday—a rare occurrence. As you know, All Saints’ Day always falls on November 1, so its day of the week changes each year. It takes five or six years for it to fall on a Sunday. Because this great feast falls on a Sunday, we have an opportunity to reflect on its meaning and on what it truly means to be a saint. Throughout the year, we celebrate canonized saints such as Alphonsus Liguori, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Ignatius of Loyola, Augustine of Hippo, Teresa of Avila, Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Maximilian Kolbe, Rose of Lima, Edith Stein, and others. When we read or hear about their lives, we might think, “There is no way I could be like that.” Their heroic or simple lives might frighten or even discourage us. But on All Saints’ Day, we celebrate everyone in heaven, both canonized and uncanonized. Everyone in heaven is a saint. There are countless unknown people throughout the ages who lived exemplary lives. We don’t know them, but God knows they lived saintly lives. This is the meaning of All Saints’ Day. 

Why do we celebrate the feast of All Saints? It reminds us that the ordinary goal of the Christian life is to become a saint. Period! This goal is not reserved for a select few; it is not a call or invitation extended to only some Christians. It is for all of us. You are meant to be a saint. I am meant to be a saint. And everything in the Church—Scripture, the sacraments, the Mass/Eucharist, the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, the priesthood, preaching, and prayer—is meant to create a sacred place and environment where we can become holy and become saints.

In this world, we complain and lament about this and that. We are sad when we fail to achieve the goals we set, earn the money we wanted, get the career we wanted, or find the wife or husband we wanted. I understand that any of these things can make a person sad. But I tell you, the only real sadness is not being a saint—the only real sadness is not becoming the person God wanted you to be. That is the profound sadness that leads to profound and eternal misery. My father, the great Saint Alphonsus Liguori, famously said, “The greatest misfortune or tragedy for a soul is dying in mortal sin and losing eternal salvation.” I tell you, if you let these thoughts govern your life, your life will change for good. And guess what? You will become truly happy. 

But what does it mean to be a saint? A saint is someone who is holy. And what does it mean to be holy? At Archbishop Fulton Sheen's beatification ceremony, Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle asked, “Why declare Fulton Sheen a blessed?” I paraphrase the rest of what he said: “Is he blessed because he was a radio and television celebrity, a renowned writer followed by millions of admirers, and a global traveler? Is he blessed because he is famous?” In Cardinal Tagle's words, Archbishop Fulton Sheen is blessed, fortunate, and happy for two reasons. First, because of “the gift of communion with Jesus.” The source, foundation, and root of blessedness is “communion with Jesus.” What does that mean? It means he had an intimate relationship and friendship with Jesus. He closely followed God’s will and spent generous, precious time in prayer. 

A traditional African-American song, often sung at children’s Mass or worship—“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus in the morning, Jesus in the noontime; Jesus, Jesus, Jesus when the sun goes down”—captures Fulton Sheen's entire life. Our Responsorial Psalm today says, “Lord, this is the people that longs to see your face.” To be a saint is to long to see God’s face in everything we desire, aspire to, think, and do. “Communion with Jesus” means spending quality time in prayer. What is the highest form of prayer in the Catholic Church? The Mass! Do we attend Mass regularly? When we are there, are our minds, hearts, and souls engaged, or are we thinking about what we’ll do when we get home? And when Mass lasts more than an hour, do we kick and complain? Psalm 84:11 tells us, “A day in the house of God is more than thousands elsewhere.” 

Secondly, Archbishop Fulton Sheen, the missionary evangelizer, is blessed because of  his “communion with persons and people, especially the poor and the vulnerable.” Last weekend, I said that it is impossible to truly love God while treating others with disdain. Authentic communion with Jesus will necessarily lead to communion with the people of God, especially the poor, the immigrants, widows, the vulnerable, and those who are living in the margins of society. You cannot honestly claim to love Jesus while at the same time dismissing, ignoring, and looking down on the people that he sacrificed his life for. Because Jesus died for everyone, we must love everyone. Authentic Christian spirituality has the shape of a cross. It is both vertical (straight up-and-down line) and horizontal (side-to-side line). Some people, especially religious people, emphasize the vertical and downplay the horizontal. Others, especially secular humanists, emphasize the horizontal and dismiss the vertical. Neither approach is the Bible. The saints embraced both in their spiritual lives. They were friends with God and with the people of God, for the sake of God. 

Today's Gospel (Matthew 5:1-12a) is the beginning of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, famously known as “The Beatitudes.” In Latin, “beatitude” is “beatitudo,” meaning “happiness.” Do you want to be happy? Be a saint! How can you become a saint? Build a strong communion and friendship with Jesus and with everyone you meet, for Jesus’ sake. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

What Does It Mean To Love God?

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 25, 2026

Today’s Gospel places us on very holy ground. Jesus, the Word of God himself, tells us what lies at the heart of the law and religion. The Pharisees ask a question, almost like a game: “Which commandment in the law is the greatest?” The rabbis often sought the “canon within the canon”—the law that somehow clarified the whole of the law. Jesus gives his well-known reply: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

In the end, it’s about love. The love of God and neighbor are tightly connected. If we follow the law without loving, we’re wasting our time. If we love God but hate our neighbors, we’re wasting our time. 

But what does it really mean to love God? Saint Bernard of Clairvaux described three kinds of love:

1. The love between a slave and a master: Here, a servant loves and obeys the master out of fear of punishment. This is the lowest form of love: loving God out of fear of being punished in hell. If the fear of hell can inspire “metanoia” in us, that's okay—but we must not settle for it. 

2. The love between a student and a professor: In this case, the student loves the professor because he wants something from him—knowledge, intelligence, and probably a favorable score. Do some people love God for what He can give them? Yes! They love God because they want Him to bless them materially. This kind of love is higher than the love between a servant and a master, but it is not the highest form of love. We must love God whether He blesses us or not.

3. The love between a husband and wife: in this kind of love, each spouse loves the other for who they are. The husband looks at his wife and says, “I love you because of you,” and she looks at him and says, “I love you because of you.” They do not love each other out of fear or for material benefit, but for the sake of the other. This is the highest form of love. Love the Lord not out of fear or for what we might gain from him, but because he is God. He deserves all honor, glory, adoration, worship, and devotion. According to St. Bernard of Clairvaux, the goal of the spiritual life is to love God alone, for the sake of God alone. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

The Persistence Of Israel’s Moral Law

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 25, 2026

A careful reading of the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament, reveals that the ancient Israelites were governed by three kinds of law: liturgical, ritual, and moral. Liturgical law specifies how God expects Israel to worship him properly. God wants to be worshipped in a particular way. As I’ve said many times before, this isn’t because God needs our worship. God needs nothing. God is perfect and complete. Rather, asking Israel to worship him in a particular way shapes them into a holy, unique, set-apart people. For instance, Exodus and Leviticus contain extensive instructions about sacrifices and how to perform them properly. They also discuss the tabernacle, which later became a temple; priests and their vestments, including turbans, tunics, and miters; and the order of priestly ordination. You’ll also read about the altars where sacrifices were performed, as well as incense and the structure of Israel’s liturgical life.

Regarding ritual law, Leviticus lists which animals are clean or unclean to eat, describes skin diseases that make a person ritually unclean, and explains how to recover from that state. As for the moral laws, they are littered throughout the Torah, with the Ten Commandments providing their foundation and outlining how the people of Israel should behave ethically. 

The key question today is: What happened to these Old Testament laws? Have they been abrogated, or should we still abide by them? What is their status? Consider the liturgical laws. The Catholic Church has preserved much of the ancient Israelite liturgical life. The tabernacle, temple, altar, sacrifice, incense, priesthood, miter, vestments, and ordination—all the things I mentioned—were brought into the Catholic Church and given new focus in Christ Jesus. Who is Christ Jesus? He is the true sacrificial Lamb, and his Cross is the true altar. Christ himself is the true high priest who offers the sacrifice. The incense is the offering rising from Calvary, pleasing to the Father. All these elements were carried over into the Catholic priesthood, which participates in the priesthood of Jesus Christ. So Catholicism has taken up this part of ancient Israelite law and given it fresh expression and meaning. 

What about ritual laws concerning clean and unclean animals—what you are to eat and avoid—and people who are ritually unclean? In Christianity, much of this has been abrogated and set aside, as the New Testament itself shows. From Jesus’ lips, we hear, “It is not what enters one’s mouth that defiles that person; but what comes out of the mouth is what defiles one” (Matthew 15:11). In Mark’s Gospel, we hear that he declared all foods clean (7:19b). The Lord’s actions and statements were quite revolutionary and radical, especially for Jews of Jesus’ time. With these declarations, Jesus moved beyond much of Leviticus.

Another scene worth mentioning appears in Acts 10:9-16. Peter was praying at noon when he saw a vision of a large sheet coming down from heaven. It contained all kinds of animals, both clean and unclean. Then he heard a voice say to him, “Get up, Peter. Slaughter and eat.” As a pious Jew shaped by Leviticus, Peter responded, “Certainly not, sir. For never have I eaten anything profane and unclean.” But the voice said, “What God has made clean, you are not to call profane.” In St. Paul's great teaching, we hear that we are justified not by the works of the law—especially the ritual law of circumcision, so important to ancient Israel—but by faith in Christ Jesus. In this way, the ritual side of the law was largely set aside. We have moved beyond it. 

What about the moral law, the subject of our first reading today? According to the angelic scholar St. Thomas Aquinas, the moral law has endured from ancient times, through Christ, and into the life of the Church. Israel's moral teaching remains in force across the centuries because it expresses enduring insights into the ethical life that should shape how we live. This is the context for today’s first reading (Exodus 22:20-26), which remains deeply relevant: “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.” What is the Lord saying here? This is not an abstract moral recommendation; it is an invitation to empathize with others’ suffering. God is telling ancient Israel: remember that you were oppressed, suppressed, and molested in Israel. Don’t forget what that was like. Let your experience guide how you treat those who suffer now. Whatever your political position on immigration, and however you balance a nation's right to define its citizens and borders with the rights of the foreigner, the other, you must not violate God's clear command in the Bible: love your neighbor as yourself. Since we were all once aliens and immigrants, treat immigrants as you would treat yourself, not as some inferior species. 

In our second reading today, we also hear, “You shall not wrong any widow or orphan.” In the ancient world, widows and orphans were among the most disadvantaged and vulnerable people imaginable. No social services or support networks existed. A widow had no means of support, and an orphan was in an even worse position unless a family member was willing to take them in. Without one, they were essentially destitute. The Lord urges us not to wrong these two most vulnerable groups in society. Catholic social teaching, which grows out of the Bible, calls this principle “the preferential option for the poor. It expresses God's special concern and love for the marginalized, powerless, and economically disadvantaged. This is not optional charity, nor does it exclude others; rather, it means that moral, social, and economic decisions must first consider their impact on society’s most vulnerable—in this case, widows and orphans. When we say, “A society is judged on the basis of how it treats the poorest and weakest among them,” we are expressing a biblical idea. 

If these commands don’t move you because of your political or social views, listen to the next line: “If ever you wrong them and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry.” 

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

The Unbreakable Bond Between Love for God and Love for Neighbor

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 25, 2026

Today’s Gospel places us on very holy ground. Jesus, the Word of God himself, tells us what lies at the heart of the law and religion. The Pharisees ask a question, almost like a game: “Which commandment in the law is the greatest?” The rabbis often sought the “canon within the canon”—the law that somehow clarified the whole of the law. Jesus gives his well-known reply: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

In the end, it’s about love. The love of God and neighbor are tightly connected. If we follow the law without loving, we’re wasting our time. If we love God but hate our neighbors, we’re wasting our time. 

But why are these two loves so closely connected? Because Jesus is not merely God; he is the God-man, in whom divinity and humanity meet. So you cannot love him as God without also loving the humanity he created and embraced. 

More to it: God loves everything and everyone he has made. Nothing visible or invisible would exist unless God loved it into being. Therefore, if you love God with all your soul, heart, and mind, you will unquestionably love what God loves. This is precisely why the two commandments are interlaced. Growing up in my family, I learned that my mother loved certain things not so much because they were her thing, but because my father, whom she loved, loved them. As we can see, the requirement to love goes far beyond simple affection or warm sentiment. We must express our love for our neighbor in concrete ways. So, who in your life right now needs love most? Who is the poorest in your life right now? Think of someone who irritates you, someone you find distasteful, someone you don’t really like, someone you make an effort to avoid, or someone you may not automatically seek out. You may have plenty of reasons not to like them. But remember this: God has loved that person into existence. What matters is not the person’s worth to you, but their worth to God. You might consider that person ‘worthless,” “useless,” or “not needed.” But the stubborn fact is that this person has value and worth to God. So love that person because God loves them, and we love God.

You love the Lord with all your mind, heart, and soul. Right? If you truly do, you won’t forget the poor, the marginalized, the widow, the alien, or the forgotten. You won’t forget those on the margins of society, as mentioned in today’s first reading (Exodus 22:20-26): “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt. You shall not wrong any widow or orphan. If you lend money to one of your poor neighbors among my people, you shall not act like an extortioner toward him by demanding interest from him.” God loves all things and all people. They would not exist unless he had loved them into being. Throughout the pages of the Bible, we see God’s focused attention on the “poorest of the poor.” God loves those who are most in need of love with a special love. And so should we, if we love God with everything we have. For the past 55 years, the Catholic Church has spoken about the preferential option for the poor. Now, don’t get it twisted. The Church loves everybody because God loves everybody, and the Church loves what God loves. However, the Church has a special love for those who are poor in every sense of the term. The command now is to love them especially.

God bless you!

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

 

Dues To The State And Devotion To God

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

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

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 18, 2026

Centuries before Jesus Christ, the prophet Jeremiah wrote, “More tortuous than anything is the human heart…who can understand it? (Jeremiah 17:9).” Other translations say, “The heart of man is desperately wicked… who can know it?” Why am I beginning my homily with this sad depiction of the human heart? Because of the Pharisees' move. 

Over the past three weeks, we have read three parables in which Jesus condemned the chief priests and elders of the people. In the parable of the two sons (Matthew 21: 28-32), Jesus depicts the Jewish leaders as the son who refused to work in his father’s vineyard. In the parable of the wicked tenants (Matthew 21:33-46), he compares them to ungrateful tenants who killed several servants and the landowner’s son sent to collect the produce. In the parable of the wedding feast, Jesus suggests they are both the invited guests who ignored the king’s invitation and the guest who accepted it but failed to wear a wedding garment. After the greatest Teacher of all time called them to change, what did they do? Today’s Gospel (Matthew 22:15-21) says that “the Pharisees went off and plotted how they might entrap Jesus in speech.” Rather than reflect on Jesus’ parables, examine their own lives, and seek to change their ways—or ask Jesus what they should do to become genuine believers in God and be saved—the Jewish leaders left angrily and began plotting a counterattack. They soon devised one: a carefully crafted question meant to trap and bring him down. They sent some of their disciples, along with the Herodians, to ask Jesus, “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Questions about church and state are nothing new, and they remain just as divisive today. 

The Pharisees' question put Jesus in a dangerous position and created a real dilemma. If he said paying taxes to Rome was unlawful, they could immediately report him to Roman officials as a seditious, unpatriotic person and have him arrested and put to death. But if he said paying taxes was lawful, many people burdened by taxes would lose respect for him. The Jewish people's resentment of taxes was not purely materialistic. They did not object simply because they wanted to keep their money; their objection was spiritual and religious. To a Jew, God was the only King, and their nation was a theocracy. Paying taxes to an earthly king meant acknowledging his legitimate rule, which insulted God.

The profound truths in Jesus’ parables wounded them so deeply that unlikely allies—the Pharisees and the Herodians—joined forces against a common enemy. The Pharisees were fanatical Jews, supremely orthodox, who saw paying taxes to a foreign king as an infringement on God’s divine right. The Herodians belonged to the circle around Herod, king of Galilee, who owed his power to the Romans and worked closely with them. The two groups were enemies who disagreed on many things, including taxes—like Democrats and Republicans. But now they found common ground, setting aside their differences with the sole aim of eliminating Jesus. In his answer, Jesus shows that he is not merely a wise Teacher; he is Wisdom itself. He does not merely know the truth; he is the Truth: “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”

What belongs to Caesar? Unlike Islam, Christianity does not claim divine revelation about politics. Jesus is not running for president. In fact, throughout his public ministry, he literally ran away from people trying to make him king. When Jesus said, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God,” he was not addressing the political relationship between Church and State as two public institutions. Rather, he was urging everyone to do two acts of justice: repay both Caesar and God for the services they provide. What services does Caesar provide? He gives us roads to travel, builds an economy where we can work, and maintains a strong military to protect us. So pay him taxes. But don’t give him worship, unconditional love, faith, or hope. Just give him the coins (dollar notes) that belong to him. Pay him what he deserves, and pay God what God deserves for what he gives us. 

What belongs to God? Everything! Giving God what is his means offering ourselves as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God (Romans 12: 1). It means giving him all we are, all we have, and all we’ve been through, and asking him to use it all for his glory. We give God our all because he gives us existence, life, breath, joys and pleasures both big and small, and salvation from sin, death, and eternal damnation in hell. We give God everything because he gives us everything. Yet everything we give is nowhere near enough. My everything and your everything are finite, while God’s gifts to us are infinite. The only just and adequate repayment to God is what Jesus offered in our place on the Cross: total love and complete surrender of his will to his Father’s will. In Catholic theology, the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross is made present again during the Mass in an unbloody manner. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the sacrifice of Christ on Calvary and the sacrifice of the Eucharist are one and the same single sacrifice. This is why attending Mass should be a top priority for Catholics. We cannot perfectly give God what belongs to God, but we can participate in this perfect sacrifice, in which Jesus offers Himself to God on our behalf. Centuries before the advent of Christ, the Psalmist providentially prophesies, “How can I repay the Lord for all the great good done for me? I will raise the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord (Psalm 116:12-13).

In his Passion and crucifixion, Christ was placed in the hands of sinners—a mystery renewed at every Mass, where Jesus, the principal Priest and Victim, offers himself to the Father through the ordained priest for our salvation. Other ministers—lectors, extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion, sacristans, ushers, altar servers, and choir members—help make this great sacrifice more edifying. Though God desires our hearts, our imperfect hearts cannot repay the debt of love we owe him. Caesar protects our earthly lives, but God delivers us from sin, evil, eternal death, and hell. If you are grateful for all God has done for you, consider answering his call: “Here I am, Lord; send me!”

God bless you!

Homily for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

 

The Parable Of The Wedding Feast

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 11, 2026

Parables are meant to shake things up, to unsettle and trouble us. They are meant to be over the top to wake us from our spiritual and moral slumber and indifference. How come? Because in the land of the deaf, you have to shout. When I was growing up, I used to accuse my grandmother and mother of talking too much and too loudly, until one day my grandmother said, “Wherever there is a talkative mother, there is a misbehaving child.” 

In his parables, Jesus shouts and screams loudly because the human race is deaf and blind to spiritual realities. One of those over-the-top parables is the one we heard today (Matthew 22:1-14). A king prepares a magnificent banquet for his son and invites as many guests as possible. Everything is ready—the table is set, and the food is prepared—but the invited guests refuse to come. Some ignore the invitation; others make excuses. Still, the king does not cancel the feast. Instead, he sends his servants out again, instructing them: “Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find.” 

In ancient times, and to a great extent today, a king is a man at the top of society. He is the highest figure in society. He organizes a wedding party for his son and invites as many people as possible. This invitation is the highest invitation you will receive. Imagine receiving an invitation from the president or the pope for a special banquet. I tell you, you will clear your schedule to attend. I don’t think you will make excuses: Oh, I don’t think I have the time.“I am sorry, it is my day of rest;” “Oh, I am too busy;” “I am sorry, I won’t come because I am taking my son or daughter to their soccer game.” You will certainly go. Look at it this way: the Almighty God is inviting you to the wedding party of his Son. In Jesus, God the Father has sent his Son, the Bridegroom, to his bride, the Church. This is the greatest invitation you will ever receive. What is usually our response? I am too busy. My family needs me. We are going out with friends. I am tired. I cannot make it. These excuses are signs of our spiritual dysfunction, spiritual tragedy, and spiritual death. 

From ancient times to the present, God has sent messengers. He sends prophets: Ezekiel, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, Habakkuk, Hosea, Jonah, Moses, etc. But they were ignored. Some were maltreated, and others were killed. Nevertheless, the Father continues to reach out and send messengers to invite us to his Son’s banquet. Messengers have been sent out to all the streets to invite all manners of people to this banquet: the good, the bad, and the ugly alike. You don’t need to be good to be invited— it is for all, saints and sinners. 

But who was the man without a wedding garment, and why was he thrown out? In Christianity, we believe in the primacy of grace: God takes the first step. Our presence here began with God. But once we accept the invitation and enter the house—the Church—we must cooperate with God’s grace and follow in the Lord’s footsteps. The Lord has called us, and we have answered. Now that we are inside the castle, we must behave in a way worthy of the place we occupy. There are two ways to respond negatively to God’s invitation: we can refuse it altogether and ignore it, or we can accept and honor it while rejecting the transformation grace should bring. Once inside, we must wear the garment of love, forgiveness, peace, and nonviolence. If we fail to do so, we are like those who ignored and refused the invitation altogether. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Come To The Wedding Feast: Come And Serve

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 11, 2026

In today’s Gospel (Matthew 22:1-14), Jesus tells a beautiful but challenging story: the parable of the wedding feast. A king prepares a magnificent banquet for his son and invites as many guests as possible. Everything is ready—the table is set, and the food is prepared—but the invited guests refuse to come. Some ignore the invitation; others make excuses. Still, the king does not cancel the feast. Instead, he sends his servants out again, instructing them: “Go out, therefore, into the main roads and invite to the feast whomever you find.”

God has prepared a feast, but He needs servants to bring people to it. He could invite them Himself, but He delights in working through secondary causes. This feast is more than a meal. For us Catholics, the Eucharist is Christ's own banquet. Every Sunday, we gather at the table where Jesus gives us his Body and Blood. We come because Christ has invited us. St. Thomas Aquinas explicitly described the Eucharist and the mystery of Christ’s love in the language of a banquet and a wedding. In his liturgical texts for Corpus Christi, he wrote, “O sacred banquet in which Christ is consumed, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us.” 

But I want us to notice something else in the Gospel: the king sends out his servants. They do not own the banquet; they are given the privilege and responsibility of serving the king by bringing others to his table. And that is exactly what I would like to speak to you about today. We need Eucharistic ministers. Our parish needs women and men willing to serve as Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion. This is not simply a job to be filled; it is a ministry—a beautiful way of saying to the Lord, “Lord, here I am. Send me.” Eucharistic ministers do more than distribute hosts. They help the Church offer the faithful the greatest gift Jesus has left us: his Body and Blood, his Real Presence, himself. 

Think about what happens every Sunday. A person comes forward, perhaps carrying a great burden. They may have lost a loved one, be struggling in their marriage, feel lonely, be sick, face financial difficulties, or silently fight a battle no one else knows about. And then they come before you. You look at them and say, “The Body of Christ.” They respond, “Amen.” I tell you, that little word—Amen—is an act of faith. And you have the privilege of placing Jesus in their hands. What a beautiful ministry! Just as the Blessed Mother Mary carried the infant Jesus, you, too, carry the Body of Jesus sacramentally. What a great privilege! 

Some of you may be thinking, “Father, I don’t think I am worthy and holy enough to do that.” I tell you, none of us is worthy on our own. At different parishes, I have shared what happened to me on my ordination day in Nigeria. As I lay prostrate on the altar with my classmates, the ordaining prelate, Bishop Guttenberg Regis, CSsR asked, “Have you found them worthy?” I reflected on my entire life as a seminarian. Before the designated priest, Father William Peterson, finished witnessing to our worthiness based on the formators’ recommendation, I broke down in tears and said, “Lord, you know that is not true. I am the most unworthy to be called by you.” Ever since then, I have always said that was the greatest lie ever told on my behalf. In the past, I have said that the Lord does not call the perfect. In fact, in Luke 5:32, Matthew 9:13, and Mark 2:17, Jesus says, “I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Any young man or woman who enters the priesthood and religious life with the attitude of being perfect, hence, his or her call, is in a very bad spiritual place. In my experience, if that mindset doesn’t change, they hardly make it to the very end. 

If you feel unworthy, you may be exactly the person Jesus is calling. We do not receive the Eucharist because we are perfect; we receive Jesus because we need him. And we do not serve as Eucharistic ministers because we are perfect; we serve because Christ calls us and gives us the grace to serve. Today’s Gospel tells us that the king sent his servants to invite people to the banquet. He did not say, “Find perfect people.” He simply said, “Go.” The Lord’s invitation often comes just when we feel least qualified. Maybe you have been sitting in the pew for years, telling yourself, “Someone else can do it.” Today, the Lord may be saying, “I am asking you.”

Our parish is a family, and every family depends on its members. We need people to proclaim the Word of God, to sing, and to help distribute Holy Communion. If you are truly grateful for the Eucharist, perhaps the Lord is inviting some of you to take one more step: move from simply receiving the gift to serving it. Christianity is not only about what we receive; it is also about what we give. In the Eucharist, Jesus gives himself to us completely. Today, he urges us to go and give ourselves in service to his people. To those already serving, thank you. Your ministry is precious, and your service helps our parish celebrate the Eucharist with dignity and reverence. If you have never served before, this is your moment. Don’t say: “Someone else will do it, I am not worthy,” or “I don’t know if I can.” Instead, say what the prophet Isaiah said: “Here I am, Lord; send me.” The Lord has prepared the banquet; the table is ready; his people are coming forward hungry—not only for bread, but for Jesus. And the Lord is looking for servants willing to help feed his people. 

God bless you!