Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

The Beautiful and Ugly Side Of Religion

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

St. Alphonsus Catholic Church, Brooklyn Center, MN

Sunday, August 9, 2026

Prophet Elijah is widely regarded as the greatest prophet in the Old Testament. At the height of his prophetic mission, he emerged as a tough and relentless critic of the king of Israel, Ahab, and his wife, Queen Jezebel, for leading Israel into the worship of false gods. More to it, he confronted the 450 priests of the false god Baal on Mount Carmel. The first lesson here is that the priests and representatives of false gods are always more numerous than those of God. They always outnumber the worshippers of the true God. This was true in Elijah’s time and remains true today. Elijah turned to Baal’s priests and challenged them to build an altar to their god and call upon his name. Elijah also promised to do the same. Then he added, “The God who answers with fire is God” (1 Kings 18:24). After building an altar to Baal, the priests cried out and danced around it from morning till noon, with no answer from Baal. Elijah began to mock them, saying, “Call louder, for he is a god; he may be busy doing his business, or he may be on a journey. Perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened” (1 Kings 18:27). So the prophets of Baal “shouted louder and even slashed themselves with swords and spears, as was their custom, until their blood flowed.” Midday passed and evening approached, yet “there was no sound, no one answering, no one listening” (1 Kings 18:29).

It is now Elijah’s turn. He erected an altar and prayed to Yahweh, the true God, and God answered by sending fire to consume his sacrifice. I tell you, Elijah’s action reveals one of the most important truths in the whole Bible, namely, that if the true and living God is not the summum bonum, the sole, primary, and infinite longing of our lives, we would be wasting our time like the priests of Baal and, in the process, harming ourselves. Only God can truly satisfy the deepest longing of the human heart. Period! If the goods of this world are your primary pursuit in life, if you turn toward something that is not the true God, you will never be satisfied. In fact, you will waste your time and, in the process, injure yourself. So, on Mount Carmel, Elijah made one of the greatest religious interventions and achievements in the entire tradition. After this great achievement, what does Elijah do? He slaughtered the 450 priests of Baal (1 Kings 18:40b). When Queen Jezebel, the wife of King Ahab, heard of it, she was furious. In response, she sent an army to pursue Elijah. Fearing for his life, Elijah fled. He is now sitting under a broom tree, physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted, wishing for death. An angel came to him twice and offered him food and drink. After being fortified, he made his way to Mount Horeb (also known as Mount Sinai). This is where today’s story begins. 

On Mount Horeb, hiding in a cave, the Lord asks, “Why are you here, Elijah?” Elijah answers, “I have been most zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts, but the Israelites have forsaken your covenant. They have destroyed your altars and murdered your prophets by the sword. I alone remain, and they seek to take my life” (1 Kings 19:10). Then the Lord tells Elijah to prepare himself, for He, the God of hosts, will be passing by. After that, a strong, violent wind blows, but the Lord is not in the wind. An earthquake follows, but the Lord is not in the earthquake. After that, fire comes, but the Lord is not in the fire. Finally, when Elijah hears a tiny, whispering voice, he covers his face and goes out to meet the Lord. 

Over the years, some preachers have said something like, “Don’t look for God in extraordinary and spectacular things; look for God in simple things and in the tiny voice of your conscience.” I think there is some truth to this position, but what those preachers miss is how the Lord addressed Elijah. God chose this way to address Elijah to set a contrast. Does God sometimes reveal himself through earthquakes, fire, and crushing winds? Yes indeed! Sometimes God reveals himself in spectacular and extraordinary ways. It is an error to conclude that God reveals himself only through a tiny whispering voice. Remember, on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit descended upon the early Church, He came with a violent wind (Acts 2:2). When Jesus died on the cross, Matthew records that the earth shook and rocks split (Matthew 27:51). Why, for Elijah, did God set up this contrast? God did not come to him with an earthquake, fire, or strong winds; rather, in a tiny whispering voice. Why? On Mount Carmel, Elijah did a great thing. Through him, God manifested his awesome power. But then he did a horrible and terrible thing by putting to death 450 of his rivals. God is mighty and powerful. But God’s power is not revealed in violence and aggression. It is precisely revealed in love and compassion. On Mount Carmel, we see the best of religion. We encounter God, who is all-powerful. We also learn that worshiping false gods is a waste of effort that will eventually hurt us. On Mount Carmel, we also see religion at its worst. Can religion be violent, brutal, and hateful toward another? Yes! Read the history of religion. Look at what is happening today in places like North Korea, Somalia, Yemen, Sudan, Eritrea, Libya, Pakistan, Iran, and Nigeria. On Mount Horeb, Elijah needed to learn the lesson of religious tolerance. He needed to learn that the power of God is manifested in a tiny whispering voice of love, mercy, and compassion. 

What does the tiny, whispering voice say to Elijah? It tells him to anoint a new king of Israel and Elisha as a prophet to replace him (1 Kings 19:16). Put simply, Elijah is being fired and replaced. Why is he being replaced? Because of the extraordinary violence he displayed on Mount Carmel after the powerful manifestation of God’s power. Can we sometimes feel these two sides in ourselves? We speak the truth of God and manifest God’s presence and power to a culture that is increasingly secular. However, we sometimes experience hateful anger toward an enemy. We feel like using violence to eliminate what we consider wrong and evil in society. It might not be as extreme as shedding blood; it might be spreading lies about another and destroying their reputation. In the story of Elijah, we see, on full display, the best and the worst of religion. And these two can be found in us, too. What should we do when this happens? When you feel the urge to destroy your enemy, even if it is a righteous anger that you feel, even if you feel justified by what you are about to do, remember the story of Elijah, and be ready to listen to a tiny, whispering voice of God urging you to do good, and to avoid evil. Do not forget that God’s power is ultimately revealed in compassion and love, not violence, not cruelty, not aggression, not putting another to death.

Homily for the Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Enduring Lessons From the Miracle of the Loaves And Fish 

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara 

Homily for the Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, August 2, 2026

Jesus’ public ministry was marked by many miracles. Of all his miracles, only two—the Resurrection and the feeding of the five thousand—are recorded in all four Gospels. We can see why the Resurrection is recorded in all the Gospels, for it is a historic event, an earthquake, and the game-changing act that turned human history around. But why the miracle of the Loaves and Fish? The authors of the four Gospels considered the feeding of the five thousand a significant miracle. Feeding such a crowd with five loaves and two fish is indeed miraculous, but the Greek term used in today’s Gospel specifies males, and Matthew further emphasizes the point by adding, “not counting women and children.” Many biblical scholars believe the actual number of people fed that day could have been 15,000 to 20,000. Let us look at the priceless lessons from this miracle.

Matthew’s account says that when Jesus heard that John the Baptist, his cousin, had been put to death, he withdrew from public view and went alone to a deserted place. But the crowd wouldn’t give him a moment to mourn his great cousin. They followed him to the deserted place. When he saw them, “His heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.” By evening, the Lord’s disciples approached him and urged him to dismiss the people so they could go to nearby villages and buy food for themselves, for it was getting late and they were in a deserted place. What does Jesus say to them? “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” Feed them? This huge crowd? That’s impossible! The disciples informed Jesus that all they had were five loaves of bread and two fish. At this point, the story turned. Jesus called for the bread and fish to be brought to him. After giving thanks for the meal, he broke the bread and gave it to his disciples to give to the crowd. Impressively, the entire multitude was fed, and “they all ate and were satisfied.” Jesus did not just meet the need; he met it exceedingly. He lavished the people with so much food that there were “fragments left over— twelve wicker baskets full.” First lesson: Don’t look at your problems through your own resources. Instead, look at God. We are serving a very big God, who is always standing by our side. In his letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul says, “Walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Jesus says, “With God, all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). When God is involved, miracles happen. I know it. Whenever there is a problem, our natural mind, which relies on physical senses and human reasoning, will tell us, “This problem is huge. It cannot be solved. It is impossible.” And it may be a great deal. But even at that point, allow your spiritual mind, which has been transformed by God and perceives reality through faith and divine truth, to take over, guide you, and rule you. Our problems are never too large for God to handle. 

Jesus fed the people through his disciples. He could have simply snapped his fingers and fed everyone present. He could have even made the people’s hunger disappear. He could have turned stones in the deserted place into bread and fish. Remember, the devil’s first temptation of Jesus was to turn stones into bread. Jesus has the power to do that, but he did not. Instead, he engaged and involved his disciples in this great miracle of feeding the multitude. Second lesson: Christianity is about putting yourself in a position for God to use you. From time to time, I hear parishioners say something like, “What are you all doing about this person and that person?” “What are you all going to do about this and that situation?’ Well, I am glad we care about each other. I am pleased you are aware and attentive to what is happening in the parish. But it would be much more beneficial and sacrificial if you would step into the role of actually doing something about the situation you are talking about. The moment you notice an issue, God may be inviting you personally to do something about it. Yeah, it may be physically impossible for you to do certain things, but there is still something you can do. A parishioner once overheard Gerri and me talking about a file cabinet purchased for my office. Right there, she said she had a wooden file cabinet that would fit my office. Eventually, she coordinated with her son-in-law, who brought the file cabinet over to the office. She noticed an issue, discussed it, made plans to address it, and eventually solved it. 

Has it ever occurred to you that the Lord didn’t need the loaves and the fish? Remember, this is the same God who created ex nihilo, who spoke the universe into existence. If he did that, he could have spoken corned beef sandwiches and rye bread for the people to enjoy. But he wants us to participate. Like the body of Christ, we have people who are teachers, evangelists, electricians, plumbers, cooks, security guards, cleaners, etc. We are all invited to participate in his Body. It is like prayer. God knows our prayer requests. He knows the needs we don’t even know about. Yet God calls us to pray. He wants us to participate in the Christian life. It is like the Great Commission. God tells us to go out and preach the good news to all people, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. That is also a call to participate. However, do not forget this spiritual truth: God needs nothing. God does not need our help. Yet he invites us to participate, and in that process God uses small things, small as mustard seeds, to show his great power, great love, and great mercy. Accept God’s invitation to participate. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

                                              

   The Wisdom Of King Solomon: A Discerning Heart

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Today’s first reading is one of the most beautiful stories in the entire Old Testament. I would recommend this passage to every young person. The event occurred in the early days of King Solomon's reign. Solomon is the son of King David and Bathsheba. After his father, David, he became king following a dynastic struggle. At the beginning of his reign, he was beset by self-doubt, as any untested young person would be. Imagine starting a new job or position at your workplace and feeling unsure of yourself. When I became a pastor for the first time, I felt anxious about my fitness for the role. Now compare that to becoming the king of a nation. You may be delighted by the position, but you also know that all the nation’s responsibilities fall upon you. If you are honest with yourself, you will ask, “Am I really competent to do this job?” As a young king, Solomon had serious doubts about his fitness for office. But in a dream, something happened. The Lord appeared to him and said, “Ask something of me, and I will give it to you.” I tell you, this is an extraordinary moment in the life of the young and inexperienced King Solomon. In response, Solomon prayed, “Lord, my God, you have made me, your servant, king to succeed David my father; but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act… Give your servant, therefore, a listening heart to judge your people and to distinguish between good and evil” (1 Kings 3:7, 9). Beautiful prayer! Isn’t it?

What is Solomon asking for? He is asking to see his world from God's perspective and to govern with the mind and heart of God. Solomon could have asked God for anything: riches, long life, military success over his enemies, the nicest palace in the world, or to be the most dreaded person in the world—anything. He could have asked for wealth, power, honor, and pleasure. God placed no restrictions on his choice. Instead, he asked for “a listening heart,” “a wise and discerning heart,” and wisdom. That was a wise choice; it showed he already had wisdom: the wisdom to know that he didn’t have it and that he needed it. Honesty and humility are the first part of wisdom.

Why is wisdom so important? Why is Solomon’s request the only wise choice? If you have all those things I mentioned—you have wealth, power, honor, pleasure, long life, good health of mind and body, and everyone around you adores you to the point of sycophancy, your army is the greatest in the world, and you have the nicest and coolest palace in the world, etc.—unless you have wisdom, unless you can see the world from God’s standpoint, you will not know what to do with those things. And those goods of the world, which can superficially please you, will eventually turn on you and destroy you. If you gather young people and ask them what they want in life, the vast majority of them will say wealth, power, pleasure, esteem, homes, cars, etc. And there is nothing wrong with these worldly goods. But unless they have wisdom, sophia in Greek, those things will in fact turn on them. Look at some of the great athletes or musicians who suddenly were given all the goods of the world. Some of them are either broke, dead, or crackheads. They were given all the goods of the world, but they didn’t see the world from the standpoint of God. They didn’t have this wisdom to properly distinguish good from evil. Eventually, all those things they accumulated turned on them. If you have worldly goods, the best things that life can offer without wisdom, without a discerning heart, not only won’t they do you any good; they will turn on you. 

How did God respond to Solomon’s request? The first book of Kings states, “The Lord was pleased by Solomon’s request.” God then says to him, “Because you asked for this—you did not ask for a long life for yourself, nor for riches, nor for the life of your enemies—but you asked for discernment to know what is right—I will do as you requested. I give you a heart so wise and discerning that there has never been anyone like you now, nor after you will there be anyone to equal you” (1 Kings 3:11-12). Take this to the bank: God will not refuse this kind of prayer. But if you pray, “Lord, give me the greatest and most expensive Rolls-Royce, Lamborghini, or Ferrari through Christ our Lord,” which is a stupid prayer, God may not grant it. But if you pray, “Lord, give me wisdom, enable me to see the world from your perspective, and to distinguish good from evil, and I ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.” God will not refuse it. Jesus himself said, “The Lord will not refuse the Holy Spirit to those who ask.” If you ask for all the worldly goods and God sees they are not good for you, he might decline your request. But the Holy Spirit is always good for us. Ask for Him, and you will not be refused. 

Let us make this more practical. Let’s say you are celebrating your birthday. Your family and friends ask you to make a wish before blowing out the candles on your birthday cake. God appears to you and says, “Make a request, and I will give it to you.” What would you say? No matter your circumstances, ask for Jesus Christ. Tell the Lord, “I want nothing but you.” Tell him, “You are still the One I want for life.” Tell him, “I want wisdom so I will know what to do with anything else you might give me or not give me.” If you have wisdom and a discerning heart, you will know how to handle wealth if it is given to you. If you have wisdom, you will know how to handle power if it comes to you. If you have wisdom, you will know how to respond when people honor you. You will know how to use that for God’s purpose. But if you don’t have Jesus Christ, all those things will turn on you and destroy you. 

This is the basic spiritual truth, embodied in today’s Gospel (Matthew 13:44-46). From our Lord Jesus, we hear, “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” In ancient times, long before banking and insurance became the norm, people would bury their wealth in their land or around their homes to protect it if an invading army was coming, and then they would flee. Sometimes they didn’t make it back. Either they were killed or simply couldn’t return home. Many Ukrainians who fled their country at the beginning of the Russian invasion would never make it back. When this happened, the buried treasure would remain buried in the field. After a while, someone farming in that field would discover the hidden treasure. Jesus says the kingdom of God is like that. If you find that hidden treasure, sell everything else you have and buy it. But what is the hidden treasure? It is Jesus Christ dwelling in you. It is a wise and discerning heart. I tell you, if you know this profoundly, you are willing to give up everything else for it. In the next parable, Jesus says, “The Kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.” Who is this merchant looking for a fine pearl? All of us! As we go through life, we look for things that will make us happy, and those are wealth, power, honor, and pleasure. What is the pearl of great price? It is the Kingdom of God! That is the treasure buried in the field. That is the wise and discerning heart. That’s Jesus Christ dwelling in you. But the tragedy is that we spend our lives chasing pieces of treasure but not the fine pearl and not the great treasure. We spend our earthly lives mostly chasing fleeting and transient things: I want power, all the power. I want money, a lot of money. I want pleasure, all forms of pleasure. I want honor, every honor. I want to be in the spotlight, and I want everyone to adore and kiss my ring. We are looking for treasure in the wrong places of the world. But there is one buried treasure. Although it seems buried, it is staring us in the face. And we miss it. Don’t miss it. Life is short. And that hidden treasure and fine pearl is Jesus Christ. 

Homily for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

God’s Wisdom And Power Are Boundless

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, July 19, 2026

According to biblical scholars, the Book of Wisdom was likely the last book written in the Old Testament. It was composed about fifty years before the coming of Christ. The author's identity is unknown, but the author may have been a member of the Jewish community in Alexandria, Egypt. The book is a collection of wise sayings, aphorisms, and clear articulations of biblical truths and revelation. As expected, the major theme of the Book of Wisdom is God’s wisdom, power, and love. 

Today’s first reading is from the Book of Wisdom, chapter 12. Before we come to it, let’s look at another passage from the same book that serves as a launchpad for today’s reading, one that the great St. Thomas Aquinas loved to quote. Referring to God’s Wisdom, it says, “She reaches mightily from one end of the earth to the other, and she orders all things well” (Wisdom 8:1). In both Jewish and Christian traditions, this passage personifies God’s wisdom (often called Sophia in Greek). This means that divine wisdom is all-powerful, boundless, and omnipresent from one end of the world to the other. When I was coming of age, whenever I complained about an injustice done to me or to another, my mother would simply say, “My son, God knows.” At some point, I grew annoyed and even challenged my mother, “Mama, is that all you have to say?” But my mother’s intuition was right. God is not ignorant of what is happening to you or to another. He knows what is going on here in the USA, in all of North America, in Africa, in Asia, in Europe, in Australia, and in every nook and cranny of this world. God has oversight over everything in his creation, from one end of the world to the other. 

From ancient times to the present, the temptation to see God as a distant force, power, or figure has persisted. In modern form, it is called “Deism.” It is a philosophical and religious belief that a Supreme Being created the universe and established natural laws but does not actively intervene in human affairs. Put simply, it is a belief system that sees God as a distant power who made the universe and then retired, leaving it to its own devices. It holds that God may be concerned with the higher elements of creation but not with the details of things. Although this view is both ancient and modern, it is not a biblical view. In his classic theological formulation of divine omnipresence, the great scholar St. Thomas Aquinas says, “God is in all things by essence, presence, and power.” He then adds “intime,” which means “most intimately so.” God is in all things, not just the higher elements of creation, and he is in all things in a most intimate way. In the old Boston Catechism book, we see the question, “Where is God?” The answer given is, “God is everywhere.” I tell you, if you truly understand this answer, your whole life will change. God is not up there in a distant land or in an ancient time. Some atheists, in making a bad joke, say that in the past there was God, but with the passage of time, God died. God is in all things by essence, presence, and power. God is the creator and sustainer of all things. If God died, how come there is life and all things? The death of God would have been the extinction of all things. End of story! 

In light of this, let’s turn to today’s second reading (Wisdom 12:13, 16-19): “There is no god besides you who have the care of all people… You are righteous, and govern all things righteously.” Notice that God governs, not some people but all people, righteously. All things and all people are under divine providence. We also hear, “For your might is the source of righteousness.” During my involvement with the Catholic Charismatic Renewal in Nigeria, one of our teachers, Mr. Cyprian Agbazue, speaking about the will of God, said there is “the perfect will of God, and the permissive will of God.” The perfect will of God is God’s highest, most flawless plan for our lives. It is what God genuinely desires and intends for your life. It is perfectly aligned with his ultimate purposes, peace, and holiness. The permissive will of God refers to what God allows to happen—often out of respect for human free will or the realities of a broken world—even when it runs counter to His moral desires. In the end, he said that everything that happens in the world, to a nation or to an individual, is, in some sense, the will of God. It happens either because God ultimately wants it to happen or because God is allowing it to happen. His view is in tandem with the biblical view—that God’s knowledge and wisdom stretch from one end of the earth to the other. Put simply, God knows. God is aware. God is not oblivious. God is allowing it to happen. God is everywhere, as the Boston Catechism book says. No matter what has happened to you, or is happening to you presently, good or bad, it is part of God’s will. God is permitting it directly or indirectly. I tell you, your life will radically change when you allow this very idea to sink deeply into your mind. You are stuck in traffic on your way to an important appointment. Don’t see it as bad luck. God is permitting it to happen, directly or indirectly. At that moment of frustration, God may be inviting you to pray. Are you experiencing persecution from someone? It might be an invitation to fulfill Jesus’s countercultural teaching: love your enemy and pray for those who persecute you.   

From your standpoint, you might be asking, “If God cares for all his people and governs all things righteously, why does the world not look like it is being governed by a wise and righteous God? Why does it look like the world is full of incompleteness, suffering, violence, and injustice? How do we read this in light of the Holocaust and many other genocidal acts that have happened in human history? If the universe is under divine governance, how can we explain the reality of evil and suffering in the world?” 

Now, there is no time to delve into the problem of evil and suffering in the world, but one way to approach this question is to recall your experience traveling on a freeway under construction. There is a long traffic jam, with very slow movement, and your gas is running low as well. You are going to get to your destination, but it will be slow, and you are frustrated by the pace. No matter what you desire and hope for at that time, things won’t go the way you want. All you can do is take a chill pill and pray. If you get to your destination late, so be it. You cannot magically disappear and appear at your destination. Another image is visiting an artist's studio or a carpenter’s workshop. When my mother died in 2014, I went to Nigeria for her funeral. Before I traveled, I called my elder brother and requested one thing: do not choose our mother’s casket until I return. I would like to make the choice. When I got home, I visited three casket stores and showrooms. The last one I visited was classier and fancier. 

As I walked through the showroom aisles, looking at different types and designs of caskets, a door opened a few yards ahead of me. It was the business owner. As we talked, and he realized I was a priest who had returned home from America to bury my mother, he said, “Father, I am actually based in Texas. In fact, my family still lives there.” Then he added, “Follow me; I will show you this one casket. It is in its final phase of polishing.” He led me through the same door that had brought him into the showroom. Then I saw a huge workshop where all the caskets are made. But it was dusty and messy, with pieces of wood, iron, and screws lying everywhere. The whole place looked like a tornado had passed through it. The man noticed my shocked expression and probably my judgment. So he said, “This is the workshop where all the caskets are made.” Every workshop is usually messy and disorganized. There, you will see incomplete works of art; you will see dirt and pieces of items here and there. Some of us grew up with tailors and seamstresses around. When you visit where clothes are made, it is never organized. It is usually littered with pieces of clothing. When the seamstress begins to cut and design, everything looks unclear, and everywhere looks unkempt. When I was in Memphis, my pastor, Fr. Maurice Nutt, loved to cook. And boy, he was a fantastic cook. But here was the problem: when he cooked, the whole kitchen looked like a tornado had visited. He used virtually everything in the kitchen—lots of plates, bowls, knives, pots, etc. And it was the job of Brother Eugene and me to wash, clean, and tidy the kitchen, and to put things in their proper places. There were times the two of us spent over an hour doing this. At some point, we celebrated when the pastor wasn’t cooking. 

What is the world like? It is like a highway under construction. It is like an artist’s workshop. It is like a workshop where caskets are made. It is like a seamstress’s or tailor’s workshop. It is like Fr. Maurice’s kitchen. Who is God like? God is like an artist in his studio, a construction worker on the highway, or a seamstress or casket builder in their work environment, all working to make the world righteous. He is in the process of justifying things. When we look at the saints, we see God’s finished, polished, and cleaned products. But most of the time, what we see are unfinished, incomplete, and imperfect products. We are still making our way through this traffic-jammed, under-construction highway. And we must trust that everything that happens is under divine wisdom, guidance, and providence.

God bless you!

Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

                    Present Sufferings And Future Glory

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, July 12, 2026 

No one needs to be told that we live in a world of suffering, trial, and woe. Just watch the Nightly News, and you will see and hear crimes, injustice, violence, and human dysfunction on full display. Visit hospitals, homeless shelters, and care centers, and you will see several degrees of suffering everywhere. Drive through our streets, and you will see fellow human beings, people’s sons and daughters, languishing because of substance abuse or other problems. When I was in California, I visited a working-class couple. In the course of our conversation, the woman said to me, “Two of my children are homeless because of drugs. My husband and I did everything possible to get them the help they needed. They always checked themselves out of the rehab centers we took them to. Now they are out there sleeping on the streets. Sometimes, when I am going to work, I bring them hot meals. What kills me every day is that I see them every day on my way to work. I see them sleeping on roadside benches and on concrete walkways.” We surely live in a world where suffering is a universal reality. Either you are carrying the weight of a physical illness, an emotional or psychological illness, mourning a broken relationship or marriage, facing financial anxiety, or simply feeling the daily exhaustion of life’s unpredictable storms. Everyone has something that weighs them down. Even when life feels good and normal, you know it is only a matter of time before a storm rears its ugly head. Suffering is an inescapable part of the human experience, a reality acknowledged across philosophical, spiritual, and psychological traditions. As we wrestle with these storms, it is easy for the shadows of our current struggles to obscure our vision, making us wonder whether the heartache will ever end. 

In today’s second reading (Romans 8:18-23), the great St. Paul invites us to look beyond the immediate circumstances and do a little divine mathematics: “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us.” Don’t forget, Paul was no stranger to suffering. In fact, he endured an extraordinary catalog of hardships while fulfilling his ministry. He faced physical assaults. He received 39 lashes from fellow Jews; he was beaten with rods on three occasions and subjected to countless blows. He was stoned and left for dead in Lystra by a hostile crowd (Acts 14:19). He was frequently jailed, notably enduring a severe beating and being chained in the inner prison in Philippi (Acts 16:23-24). He survived three shipwrecks. Paul also faced the perils of robbers; he was bitten by a venomous viper on the island of Malta (Acts 28:3). He also suffered internal and personal exhaustion, weariness, sleeplessness, hunger, and thirst. In 2 Corinthians 12:7-9, he lamented an affliction he asked God to remove, but was told, “My grace is sufficient for you.” 

Yes, Paul did suffer, and he suffered greatly. Yet amid so many events and episodes of suffering, Paul did not waver. The hope of future glory kept him going. He looked at his overwhelming afflictions—beatings, shipwrecks, imprisonment, and constant opposition—and called them “nothing.” Was St. Paul a masochist? Not at all! Masochists enjoy being subjected to excruciating suffering, cruelty, and domination. They gain gratification from pain and discomfort. But that’s not Paul. He prayed specifically for the end of his suffering. In one of his letters, he recounts pleading with God three times to remove a mysterious and agonizing hardship he called his “thorn in the flesh.” After weighing and comparing present trials against the reality of eternity, he knew that whatever this life brings is fleeting. Good times are fleeting. Bad times are fleeting, too. But the glory of God’s coming kingdom is everlasting. What God prepares for those who do not waver in the face of suffering and inconvenience is far greater, more beautiful, and far more enjoyable than the excruciating pains of earthly life. The glory to be revealed is a permanent state of life. It is joy, perfect and permanent joy. It is peace, perfect and permanent peace. It is ultimate fulfillment. When Paul speaks of the “glory,” he is not merely describing a beautiful afterlife. He is referring to the ultimate fulfillment of God’s promise: the complete restoration of our bodies, minds, and all creation. It is the moment when we will fully step into our inheritance as children of God, when every tear will be wiped away, and the pain we have carried will be swallowed up in overwhelming joy. 

It is important to note that Paul does not say our present sufferings don’t matter. He does not advocate stoicism or merely gritting our teeth and ignoring them. He calls them “labor pains”—the necessary, temporary groaning that accompanies the birth of something beautiful and completely new. Your suffering has purpose. Your pain is the refining fire that shapes your character, deepens your empathy, and roots your faith more firmly in Christ Jesus. Suffering strips away our hope in finite things, so we do not place our ultimate hope in anything finite. Do not allow today's struggles to blind you to the future glory to come. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Be Yoked to Jesus, and Through Jesus to the Father

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

St. Alphonsus Catholic Church, Brooklyn Center, MN

Sunday, July 5, 2026

Today’s Gospel (Matthew 11:25-30) has, over the years, been a major topic in biblical studies, particularly regarding the relationship between the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) and the Gospel of John. Some older scholars viewed this passage as a “thunderbolt from the sky” because it sounded so much like John. They argued that Matthew and Luke were influenced by Johannine theology. But most modern biblical scholars have rejected that position, suggesting that the passage we read today actually provided the “seed” from which later Johannine Christology grew. It is common knowledge that the Gospel of Matthew stresses the humanity of Jesus, while John’s Gospel stresses his divinity. Yet right here in the middle of Matthew, we see a clear emphasis on Jesus’ divinity. 

The Gospel allows us to overhear a conversation between the Son and the Father. Jesus speaks to his Father and, in the process, reveals his deepest identity within the Holy Trinity. This is what he says: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones.” This is not merely one holy man speaking to God; rather, it is the very Son of God, the very incarnation of the God of Israel, addressing his Father. I tell you, this opens a window for us to see and know the inner life of God, offering us a glimpse of the kind of conversation that goes on between the Son and the Father. Jesus is not praising his Father for making him popular or for making him the greatest Man ever lived. He is not praising the Father for the knowledge and power he possesses. Rather, he is praising Him for what He has done for others, the little ones. Have you ever praised or thanked God for mercies and blessings He has shown to someone else? When was the last time you did that? 

But what is the thing that has been hidden from the learned and now unveiled to the little ones? It is the identity of the Messiah, the nature of God as Father, and the values of the kingdom, which often turn the values of this world upside down. In Jesus, God has visited his people. Yet the “wise and learned”—the religious leaders such as the Pharisees and scribes—did not recognize Jesus as the Son of God, their Savior and the Savior of the world. Instead, they believed their theological training and rigid religious practices would guarantee their salvation. Jesus is God’s most profound, lavish, and extensive outreach to the human race. From the very beginning, God wanted to give us a share in his life. With the advent of Jesus, God’s plan is coming to fruition. Yet the wise and learned, those who were learned in religious matters and spiritual masters in Jesus’ time, failed to recognize that God’s salvation plan was already being carried out. 

Why are “these things” hidden? They are hidden because the “wise and learned” are often blinded by their reliance on what they have achieved—wealth, power, honor, academic success, connections, etc. They want to run their lives. In contrast, “little ones” (the childlike) acknowledge their helplessness and rely completely on God and God’s grace. On the cross, Jesus gives everything. Even though he was in the form of God, he emptied himself completely for the other. The wise and learned cling to themselves. From Adam and Eve to this day, the fundamental human problem is that we seek everything but God. We strive to fill the ego with stuff: sex, pleasure, power, esteem from others. But this will never, in principle, work, because, as St. Augustine said, we have been wired for God, and God is love. Why are we unhappy? Why is it that no matter what you have achieved, acquired, and procured in life, there seems to be this longing for more? Even if we have too much, that too much is never enough. Why? Because we are wired for God. That more we long for is never found in any of the goods of this world. That more is God alone. Now, there is nothing wrong with having religious knowledge and insight, as long as they lead us toward God. In my pastoral life, I have seen priests and laypeople who attained and acknowledged religious knowledge and insight only for the sake of the name and title. Their extra knowledge of the Bible, theology, the Church, God, the world, etc. did not move a needle in their spiritual life. Rather than being drawn to God, they were drawn away from God. But those who understand these things are “the little ones,” “the inarticulate.” They are dependent on another—God. 

Jesus also says, “No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” What does the Lord mean by this? Many people have some knowledge of God. Muhammad has some knowledge of God. But no one fully and completely knows the Father except the Son. Jesus is not just a Jewish carpenter and rabbi. He is not one more religious figure among the many. He is not offering us a philosophy of God. He is not offering us another clever human articulation of God. He is giving us an inside view. And that’s why we must comply with his compelling invitation: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” This is not an abstract theology; it is all about life and spirituality. Jesus wants us to come to Him so that we, too, can know the Father and be in a joyful relationship with Him. “Come to me, all you who labor…” Here, he is not talking about manual labor per se. He is speaking to those who find life burdensome and difficult, who are not fulfilled. He is speaking to all of us. He is promising us “rest.” By “rest,” he is not talking about relaxation, chilling out on the beach, or lying comfortably on your couch or recliner chair. He is not talking about taking a vacation to Hawaii or to one of the Caribbean Islands. He is not talking about a cruise vacation or being invited to a fancy yacht. Rest here means fulfillment. Rest means the achievement and attainment of joy. That’s what all the saints found. Whenever we hear that someone dies, we often say, “May his or her soul rest in peace.” Right? What we mean when we say that is, “May they find fulfillment and that steady joy that eluded them on earth.” The great illusion of secularism and secular culture is that you don’t need God to be perfectly happy, that all you need to be happy is to fill yourself with the goods of this world— wealth, power, honor, and pleasure. But time and again, this ideology has failed. Joy, perfect joy, will only come when we turn our life over to the one who created us— God. 

More to it, Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,” meaning be grafted onto me. Be yoked to me because I am yoked to the Father. In those words, Jesus is saying in a different way what he said in John 15:4, “Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.” It is easy to forget the phrase, “and learn from me.” What are we learning from Jesus? Our greatest pursuit in life is happiness and fulfillment, but nothing in this world will ever guarantee it except being yoked to Jesus and, through Jesus, to the Father. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

 Exhibits Showing That Jesus Is Qualitatively Unique 

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, June 28, 2026

One of the great mistakes people make today is domesticating Jesus. They see him as just one more biblical figure, a nice, gentle figure. They claim to understand his moral teaching, say he is like many other great religious figures, and argue that Jesus echoes what others have said. After making those claims, they simply forget about him. But in his own lifetime and after his Resurrection, Jesus was a deeply unsettling figure. He was disruptive and unnerving. I tell you, there is no religious figure anywhere in the religions and philosophies of the world who is stranger, more demanding, more relentless, more destabilizing, and more provoking than Jesus. There is no guru, no teacher, no political or cultural leader, no professor, no influencer, or founder who is as strange and relentless as Jesus. This makes Christianity, the religion that Jesus founded, the strangest and weirdest of all. A few weeks ago, I was at St. Joseph Church in West St. Paul, and in the course of my homily, I said to the people, “It is okay if some people think you are weird. In fact, be weird.” In case you don’t know it, know it now: Christianity is weird. It is strange. It is counter-cultural and counterintuitive. It turns the values of this world upside down. And if those close to you think you are weird, you may not be far from the Kingdom of Heaven. Why do I say that Jesus is the strangest religious founder of all? 

I present the first exhibit, found in today’s Gospel from Matthew 10:37-42. Speaking to his apostles, Jesus says, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.” Apart from romantic love, the most intense forms of love are parental love (deep, enduring, and unconditional affection between parents and their children) and filial love (the love children have for their parents, which is deeply rooted in attachment, survival instinct, and mutual affection. When I was growing up in my family, I experienced my parents’ love for me, and my siblings will say the same. My parents worked so hard and made several demanding sacrifices for the family. When my father died, my mother’s love intensified. She stretched herself, broke her back, and often went beyond her limits just to ensure that the family was cared for, protected, provided for, and nurtured. The sacrifice my mother made was beyond words. Every day, very early in the morning, she would wake up to pray the rosary. Each decade of the rosary she prayed was followed by an intention for her children. My room was next to hers, so I heard her. Usually, after praying the whole rosary alone, she would wake us up and invite us into the living room for a family prayer. I tell you, I didn’t need anyone to tell me about parental love because I experienced it myself. Everything she did for my siblings and me was her highest priority. As years passed, my mom became infirm and needy, and we, her children, felt legitimately bound to care for her until God called her home. But in our Gospel for today, Jesus deliberately summons us to love him more than we love our parents and children. 

I tell you, the Buddha did not say this. He offered a wonderful teaching, the “Noble Eightfold Path,” and said he followed it to find happiness, and if you follow it, you can too. Prophet Muhammad did not say what Jesus said. He said he received a revelation from an angel and wants to share it. Even an iconic figure like Moses did not say it either. In fact, God inspired Moses to record a prophecy about Jesus Christ: “The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your fellow Israelites. You must listen to him” (Deuteronomy 18:15). Confucius did not say it. The great ancient Greek philosophers, such as Socrates, Aristotle, and Plato, did not say what Jesus said. And there is no one in the philosophical or religious tradition who said such a strange thing. But Jesus says that your love for him personally has to go beyond the most intense loves of your life. I tell you, this is Christology on full display. It is as high as the Christology we see in the Prologue of the Gospel of John 1, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” In those words, John tells us that Jesus is God, and in the demands Jesus makes today, he is also telling us that he is God. Who is the one who should be loved beyond the most intense loves we possibly have? It’s God alone! Those who say that Jesus is merely a teacher or another prophet in the line of many other prophets have obviously not read the lines we heard today. Other religious figures would say something like, “Unless you love the God that I speak of or unless you love the teaching that I offer…” But that’s not what Jesus says. He says, “Unless you love me more than your children and parents, you are not worthy of me.” Jesus would not utter those words unless he himself were, in person, the Summum Bonum, the highest Good. This is what is at stake in Christianity. You cannot understand Christianity and still be neutral about Jesus. This is the reason Jesus said, “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters” (Matthew 12:30). 

Now, before you say, “Wow, this is too much to handle,” listen to the second exhibit: Jesus says, “Whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” Today, we associate the cross with suffering, inconvenience, and accepting life’s pains with joy, patience, and total surrender to God. We have been told, “When a bad thing happens to you, and you try your best to shake it off, but the problem persists, just offer it up to God and accept it joyfully and patiently as your own share in the cross and sufferings of Christ.” But that is not what the Lord is saying here. He says, “Whoever does not take up his cross…” In other words, don’t run away from the cross; seek it out on your own. Don’t just accept it when it accidentally falls on you without your involvement. Just as Jesus took up his cross so that he might bear the sins of the world and take them away, just as he paid the price we owed, just as he bore our burdens, so we must actively bear the burdens of others. As you go about your daily life, strive to take on someone else's burdens. Look for someone who is carrying a burden and try to lighten it. Look for someone whose cross you can pick up, the way Simon of Cyrene helped Jesus carry his. If Jesus asks you right now, “Do you love me more than your children?” Many of you might say, “Yes, Lord,” especially if your children have, over the years, been distant from you. And if Jesus asks you, “Do you love me more than your father and mother?” Many of you may say, “Yes, Lord,” especially if there is less connection between you and your parents. Some adults are still angry with their parents for correcting their misbehavior when they were young. Some of those would be glad to say, “Lord, I love you more than my parents.” But the bigger test Jesus gives us today is: “Are you willing to carry another’s cross and bear another’s burdens? And mind you, that cross, that burden includes the one from your household, your family, and those of other people. If you resist this, Jesus says, “You are not worthy of me.” 

In the third exhibit, Jesus says, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” What does it mean to find your life? It means using every means possible—legitimate or not—to acquire wealth, power, honor, and pleasure and to make them your god. For people like this, the means to what they want don’t matter because the end justifies the means. But what happens in the end? All those acquisitions will fizzle away. Yet the one who “loses his life for my sake”—that is, the one who willingly bears others’ burdens out of love—will find his life. So the true Christian formula is this: love Jesus more than you love your own parents, children, and life, and then do what Jesus did—bear people’s burdens. If we live by these principles, we will find life, become effective ambassadors for Christ, and draw people into the divine life. Don’t forget this—the Father sends the Son, and the Son sends us. When people see us as an image of the Son, they will be drawn to the Son and, therefore, to the Father. 

God bless you!