Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Light Of The World And Salt Of The Earth

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, February 8, 2026

When I was in the early stages of formation to become a priest, I got a call one warm afternoon from a high school girl named Loretta. As soon as I picked up, she said, “Brother Marcel, please, I have a question I want to ask you.” “Go ahead!” I said. “Who is a Christian, and how do we know who is a Christian?” she asked. For a moment, I was a little rattled by her question because I did not know why she was asking. I had been close to her family for about two years, so I thought, “I hope I have not done or said anything unconsciously that scandalized her, hence the question?” Answering her, I said, “First, a Christian is someone who is baptized. Secondly, the person should emulate and live like Christ, who is love, kind, merciful, and compassionate. None of us is perfect, but a Christian strives to overcome their weaknesses and become better each day.” I concluded by saying to her, “If you are looking for a Christian who is a Christian in name and deed, look for those virtues I just mentioned. A Christian who embodies them is a good Christian.” Then I asked her, “But why the question?” She told me about a woman I also know. She was childless but living with one small boy. This woman virtually slept in church. She attended every church activity and was even a staunch member of a Catholic prayer ministry. She was always with her rosary and her Bible. Sometimes she dressed like a nun, and you could easily mistake her for one. But in all this, she was unbelievably mean to the little boy living with her. She regularly starved him at the slightest provocation and even made him sleep outside the house. There was nothing Christian about the way she treated the boy. She maltreated and hurt him so badly that he looked emaciated. I once tried to talk to her about her cruel treatment of the boy, but she scolded me and sternly warned me to stay clear. This woman (usually called Mama Ibe) was everything to this boy (his name is Ibe). But she wasn’t a salt and a light to him. So the young Loretta wondered how Mama Ibe could spend so much time in church praying and listening to the gospel preached, yet maltreat the small boy living with her so badly. At the end of the conversation, she said to me, “If what you just said is who a Christian is, then Mama Ibe is not one. She is simply deceiving herself and others.”

In today’s Gospel (Matthew 5:13-16), Jesus describes who his followers are meant to be: “You are the salt of the earth,” “You are the light of the world,” “You are a city set on a mountain that cannot be hidden.” Salt, light, and a city. What do they have in common? All of them exist for something beyond themselves. What does salt do? It is added to the food we eat. Unless for medical reasons, we put it in everything we cook. Of all the seasonings we use for cooking, salt is the most important. Without salt, food lacks real taste. It makes our food taste much better. It is a seasoning that enhances flavor. The holy grail of the Church is to spice up the world. What does that look like? In the great prayer of St. Francis, we pray, “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.” Jesus wants us to be the flavor that brings out the best in others and makes life a bit better.  

Furthermore, in the ancient world, salt was also used as a preservative. Before refrigeration and canning became the norm, meat and fish were preserved by drying, smoking, or salting. Salt was therefore used to prevent corruption in meat and fish. The Church's purpose is to preserve what is good, right, and true in the world. What else do we use salt for? We use it to melt ice, preventing people from falling and injuring themselves and cars from skidding and spinning, which can lead to accidents, injuries, and death. Here in Minnesota, we use a lot of salt due to our extreme cold and snowy weather. Our world, country, state, and city are frozen by fear, hatred, violence, cruelty, and anger. At this time in our lives, Jesus expects us, his followers, to loosen the world frozen by its own self-regard; to loosen our brothers and sisters frozen by fear; and to loosen our neighbors frozen by their violent ways. We have this melting influence around us. We are meant, not for ourselves, but for that icy world, that world that has become too cold to love, too cruel to show mercy, and too indifferent to express compassion. For what purpose? So that it can flow again. We must influence the world, not the other way around.

On top of that, in the ancient world, when a nation conquered another, it knocked down the walls, razed the city to the ground, and, to rub it in, salted the ground to ensure nothing would grow there again. So salt has a destructive power. Are we meant to destroy certain things in the world? You betcha! All those manifestations of sin: hatred, violence, resentment, racism, tribalism, a corrupt system, exclusion, cruelty, etc. We are meant to interrupt their growth and spread; we are meant to destroy them. The purpose of the Church is to positively impact the world. Salt was also used as a curative. It has medicinal value. Too much salt can raise blood pressure, but a deficiency can cause many other diseases as well. Before modern medicine, salt was used as an antiseptic. It was often poured into an open wound to remove impurities. Salt cures. By asking us to be the salt of the earth, Jesus is also asking us to be healers. He wants us to heal and cure the brokenhearted, the depressed, the lonely, the hungry, the bereaved, and those who experience the tragedies of life. We are the Body of Christ. The pain in the hand affects the entire body. The tragedy of the other should be the tragedy of all. Indifference is not a virtue. Silence is golden, but not when you notice discrimination and maltreatment of another person. 

Jesus also said, “You are the light of the world.” Mind you, you don’t see the light itself, but what it illumines and exposes. So the purpose of the Church is to cast light on the world. What does light do? It enables people to see clearly and know where they are going. That is why Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but in the light of life” (John 8:12). In light, people will see what to do and where to go. And we, his disciples, are meant to participate in the light that Jesus is, to illumine the paths of the world. What else does light do? It shines in dark places and exposes what is happening there. Light is meant to shine in dark corners where hatred dwells, violence festers, and old animosity still thrives. The Church’s job is to shine a light on them and to deliver judgment on them. It exposes what needs to be exposed.

Now, what is the devastating thing about this Gospel passage? Jesus says we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. But what if salt loses its taste? He says it is good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. “You are the light of the world,” Jesus also says. But what if the light is not set on a lampstand? What if the light is placed under a table or a bed? It is no longer useful to anyone. We lose our light when we are as dark as anyone else and become a vague echo of secular culture. What happens to us when we lose our saltiness? What happens to us when we put our light under a bushel basket? I tell you, we lose our whole purpose, distinctiveness, uniqueness, and the spicy-annoyingness. When the Church simply blends in with the world, it does not help the world. Rather, it loses its mission to the world. If we look like everyone else, sound like everyone else, move like everyone else, and share the same opinions and ideas, no one needs us. If we don’t hold on to our saltiness, we preserve nothing, spice up nothing, and threaten nothing. If we Christians threaten no one, and if our ideas and way of life threaten no one, it means we are not really doing our task in the world. If we lose our saltiness, we don’t interrupt evil. 

Sisters and brothers, Christianity should be seen. A Christian should be seen and known. There can be no such thing as secret discipleship. Our Christianity should be visible to all. Have you ever noticed how some Catholics pray in restaurants? They bury their heads between their laps and under the table as they rush to make the sign of the cross. Obviously, they do not want those around them to notice them praying. What a shame! Do not forget the words of Jesus in Matthew 10:33, “Whoever denies me before men, I will also deny him before my Father in heaven.” Again, Christianity should not be confined to the Church. A Christianity that stops at the Church is worthless. A Catholic should be a Catholic in the factory, in the restaurant, in the workshop, in the classroom, in the kitchen, in the office, on the golf course, in the hospital, in the library, and everywhere. St. Augustine once closed his Mass with these words, “I am about to lay aside this book, and you are soon going away, each to your own business. It has been good for us to share our common light, good to have enjoyed ourselves, good to have been glad together. When we part from one another, let us not depart from Him.”

God bless you!

Homily for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

The Ethical And Spiritual Program Of Jesus

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, February 1, 2026

Today, we hear one of the most beautiful and important passages in the Gospel of Matthew, the beginning of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, also known as the Beatitudes. In this segment of Matthew, the Lord lays out his ethical and spiritual program. In the past, I said jovially that in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus preaches like a Baptist preacher, for it is a long sermon. It’s composed of three chapters: 5, 6, and 7. Some scholars say these three chapters probably summarize what Jesus said, preached, and taught as he traveled through various towns and villages. How does it begin? Matthew says, “When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain…” Jesus going up the mountain indicates he is the New Moses. Moses went up a mountain to receive the Law; Jesus, as the New Moses, has gone up a mountain to give a new Law. Furthermore, Matthew says, “After he sat down, his disciples came to him.” In the ancient world, that was the posture of authority and of a teacher. When a teacher takes his seat, his disciples sit at his feet. Jesus, the very incarnation of Yahweh, is now teaching us his vision and rule of life, and we should listen very carefully to what he is about to say. Lastly, Matthew says, “He began to teach them.”

What’s the first teaching? “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” The Greek word for “blessed” is “markarios,” meaning “lucky,” “fortunate,” or “happy.” So it means, “You are lucky, fortunate, and happy if you are poor in spirit.” Why is that the first beatitude? Because pride is the first capital sin. Pride is the greatest sin. Pride makes me the center of my life; my life is all about me; I set the tone; I set the project. How many times in our culture do we hear expressions like, “I am a self-fulfilling person?” If you don’t know, it is the voice of sin. But who is poor in spirit? It is someone who is not proud, who empties himself, and concentrates on God. It is someone who says, “It’s all about you, Jesus.” To be poor in spirit is to let Jesus reign in your life. It means, “All I want is what God wants for me.” That’s being poor in spirit. Do you want to be happy? Allow Jesus to be your Lord and Savior. Submit and surrender to his will and purposes. Forget about your desires and focus on what God wants for you. 

The second beatitude is, “Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.” On the surface, it seems strange, puzzling, unnerving, and counterintuitive. Most people believe the good life is a happy life. We want to feel good, right? But sometimes doing the right thing, the best thing, and what God wants means we have everything but good feelings. Look at all the saints. I don’t know any saint whose life is devoid of suffering. And by the way, this is not some form of masochistic idea. When you walk the way of love, it’s going to cost you something. But you are lucky and fortunate if you are not addicted to good feelings. 

In the third beatitude, Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.” Again, this is completely counterintuitive. On the surface, it seems absurd. How can the meek and lowly inherit the earth? One lesson from history is that it is the powerful, the ruthless, the bold, etc., who inherit the earth. From the Roman emperors to the present day, it is the ruthless who inherit the earth. Do we have meek politicians? Maybe we do, but they are not in abundance. People who inherit the earth are generally very bold, gutsy, and ruthless. Yet Jesus says you are lucky and fortunate if you are meek and lowly, for you will inherit the earth. How do we read this? There is a counterargument to make. Outwardly, it appears the ruthless are the ones inheriting the earth, but throughout the ages, the poets, novelists, and historians from Shakespeare to Bob Woodward teach us that these powerful people suffer enormous psychological and spiritual debility. This teaches us that when we are hooked on the goods and values of this world and become ruthless in their pursuit, we become internally miserable. In the third beatitude, the greatest Teacher of all time says, “You are lucky, fortunate, and happy if you are detached from earthly power, earthly glory, earthly honor, for you will inherit the land.” That detachment truly frees you to enjoy the land and its goods. 

The fourth beatitude is, “Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.” In the third beatitude, you might get the impression that all you need is to be passive, mild, without great ambition, and not a worldly person. Jesus urges us to eschew worldly values in order to desire righteousness. Every physical, psychological, and spiritual energy in us should be focused on God’s righteousness, holiness, and justice. These are the things we should hunger for, and then we will be full of beatitude. There is no great saint who was passive. Every one of them hungered and thirsted for righteousness. They knew where to spend their energies, and so should we. 

Further, in the fifth beatitude, Jesus said, “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” God is mercy. The late Pope Francis said the name of God is mercy, “hesed” in Hebrew. That God is merciful is evident throughout the Bible, which shows God’s compassion. The word “compassion” in Latin is “Cumpati,” meaning “to suffer with.” You are full of compassion if you enter into another’s suffering. It means feeling someone else’s joys, anguish, and pain. That’s the meaning of compassion, and that is what God is. By nature, God is compassion and love. In this beatitude, our Lord and Savior says, “You are blessed and happy if you live like God as a person of mercy.” Take this to the bank: if you are unhappy, sad, or worried and anxious, engage in a simple act of love. No matter where you are or what stage of life you are in, if you are unhappy, practice acts of compassionate love. I assure you, it will lift your spirit. 

In the sixth beatitude, our Lord says, “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.” When you are single-hearted and your life is about one thing, Jesus Christ, everything else you do will fall into harmony around it. But when there is division within you, like the Capernaum demoniac who asked Jesus, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” you will lose your anchor and center, and your life will be a mess. But you are happy and lucky if your life is about one thing, the Redeemer of the human race, Jesus Christ. This is what singleheartedness is about. 

In the seventh beatitude, Jesus says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” The first word the Lord speaks to his disciples in his post-resurrection appearance is “shalom,” meaning peace. What does it mean? It signifies friendship with God and full flourishing. Our God is a God of peace. Creation is a non-violent act. God brought the world into being through his generous act of love. Redemption, too, is a non-violent act. After the terrible violence of the cross, Jesus returns with the word “shalom” on his lips. In this beatitude, the Prince of Peace says, “We are happy and blessed when we become peacemakers, not just peace lovers.” Don’t just wait for peace to break out. We must be peacemakers. Peace doesn’t happen by chance. In the 1972 World Day of Peace, St. Pope Paul VI redefined peace not merely as the absence of war but as the fruit of justice. He aptly declared, “If you want peace, work for justice.” Be a Catholic Christian who, in all your gestures, words, and actions, creates the conditions for peace. This is the Christian life, everybody. If you know how to live it in deed, the Lord says you are blessed. 

Last one, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Will you be opposed if you walk the way of Christ? Yes indeed! The world that opposes the ways of God will rise up to oppose you. The more you walk the path of Jesus, the more you will be opposed. If you want to measure how you are doing in your spiritual life, one of the tools is the level of opposition you face. If you are going through life without anyone opposing you, you are not walking the path of Jesus. Look at the saints! Every one of them was persecuted. If you are opposed in any way, don’t be discouraged. Think about the prize. It is the greatest treasure to be worn—the kingdom of heaven. 

Sisters and brothers, all the beatitudes describe Jesus and Jesus crucified: poor in spirit, think of Jesus on the cross. Mourning, think of Jesus crucified. Lowly, think of Jesus on the cross. Thirsty for righteousness, think of Christ on the cross. Merciful, single-hearted, peacemaker, persecuted for the sake of righteousness, think of Jesus on the cross. Be like Jesus, and you will be happy when you do.

God bless you!

Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Decisive Call And Decisive Response

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, January 25, 2026

In our first reading, Isaiah speaks about the lands of Zebulun and Naphtali. He describes it as a land degraded by the Lord, where “anguish has taken wing.” At that time, the lands of Zebulun and Naphtali were most threatened by the Assyrian empire, Israel's great enemy. Assyria was breathing heavily on this northern territory. But despite his negative prophecy regarding the two cities, Isaiah was optimistic when he said, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom, a light has shone.” When was this prophecy fulfilled? Seven hundred years later, when Jesus, the Messiah, emerged in the lands of Zebulun and Naphtali at the beginning of his public ministry. There are several specific prophecies about the Messiah, the “anointed one,” in the Old Testament, and Jesus fulfilled every one of them in every detail. I tell you, no other religious founder ever fulfilled so many specific prophecies. Today’s first reading from Isaiah is one of them, and Matthew quotes it in today’s Gospel.

John the Baptist has been arrested and imprisoned. Jesus hears of it and withdraws to Galilee. Eventually, he leaves Nazareth and goes to live in Capernaum by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali. Matthew says it is in fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah, which says: “Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles, the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death light has arisen.” The Messiah appears in the land overshadowed by death, i.e., in our world. Not hovering above it. He appears in our dangerous world. May Jesus, the Messiah, appear in every sector of your life that is threatened, not in the right place, that has gone off kilter. Amen.

When he first appeared publicly, the first word from his mouth was “Repent!” I have spoken out strongly in the past against the domestication of Jesus. The secular-influenced culture wants to tame, sanitize, and minimize Jesus’ radical teachings and demanding call. It wants to reduce them to a comfortable, culturally palatable version that fits personal preferences, political views, or a lifestyle. The culture wants to remove the Lord’s challenging teaching and make it safe, self-fulfilling, and less transformative. But that’s not the biblical perspective. The first challenging word from the lips of Jesus was “Repent,” Change!” Stop being violent. Stop being self-absorbed. Stop allowing your sensual and emotional desires to dominate you. Stop ignoring the poor, the hungry, and the homeless. Change your life. I tell you, if Jesus is in your life, you will hear his voice  say, “Repent.” You can engage in self-praise as much as you want. You can gratify yourself with words like, “I am a good religious person, and I make Jesus the most important person in my life,” but if nothing in your life changes, if you are stuck in your old, sinful habits, you have not really changed. It is still you, not the Lord. When St. Paul embraced Jesus’ call to repent and change, he said, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.” And if Jesus is really active in your life, the persistent word you will hear is “Repent.”

As Jesus walked along the Sea of Galilee, he watched two brothers, Simon and Andrew, casting a net into the sea. They were fishermen. When he finally spoke to them, he said, “Come after me.” He was not primarily saying, “believe my doctrine,” “join my political party,” or “adopt my ideas.” What he said was more personal and existential: “Come after me,” meaning, “conform your life to mine. Walk as I walk. Think as I think. Behave as I behave. Get in line behind me.” God wants to be our friend. The great St. Thomas Aquinas said that the essence of the spiritual life is cultivating friendship with God. Sin, from Adam to the present day, is a rupture and suspension of that friendship. 

What are they coming after him to do? Jesus says, “I will make you fishers of men.” The two brothers were fishermen. They spent long hours at sea catching fish. Now, Jesus uses their trade as an allegory of what he wants them to be. What happens when we choose our will instead of God’s will? What happens when we travel the path of hatred, violence, and cruelty instead of the path of love, nonviolence, and compassion? We rupture our friendship with God. And when that happens, we rupture our relationship with everyone else and everything else in the cosmos. When we align with God, the creative source of everything that exists, we are necessarily aligned with everything else in the universe. But when that relationship with God is ruptured, we rupture our relationship with everything else, which is why sin is a scattering force. In the words of Origen, where there is division, there is sin. The name for the evil one is the Devil, from the Greek word “diabolos.” Diabolos means “one who throws things apart,” “the great scatterer.” So Jesus is saying to Simon, Andrew, and by extension all of us, “Come after me,” be conformed to me. Walk behind me. And I will make you gatherers again, fishers of men who will gather and bring people back to me. We are meant to draw people together in love. This is the beginning of evangelization. Previously, I said that proclaiming Christ to others is not an option. It is an obligation for all of us. 

What was Simon and Andrew’s response? Matthew says, “At once they left their nets and followed him.” A decisive call was met with a decisive response. What is keeping you from making this same response? Just as Jesus called Simon, Andrew, James, and John, so he calls us. What are you willing to leave behind to follow him wholeheartedly? Remember, it does not mean you have to be a priest or a nun. It means letting go of all those things that preoccupy you: money, power, who is in, who is out, who is up, and who is down, fame, etc. Today, you can drop all that and follow Jesus. No matter the state of your life, you can be a faithful and effective disciple of the Lord.

God bless you!

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

We Are Called And Sent Like Saint Paul

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

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

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, January 18, 2026

Almost everything in our culture calls us to be self-reliant, be in control, and be our own boss. We are told to be strong and not let anyone push us around. We are urged to be leaders, not followers. Even in some Christian circles, you hear prayers like, “I will be the head and not the tail,” “I will be the first and not last,” “I will lead and not follow.” The culture motivates us to set the tone of our lives and go wherever we want. After settling into my first parish in Memphis in 2007, one of the first things I noticed was this language: “I am the first person in my family to attend college.” “I am the first person in my family to attain so and so position.” I wondered why they were trumpeting their own achievements. It did not take me long to realize that the language of self-assertion is part of the American story. The display of the ego is part of everyday life. When I go to Nigeria now, I hear similar language, too. As nice as these sound, they come from the ideology of self-assertion, self-affirmation, and freedom without restrictions. It produces a kind of egotistic religion that says, “I believe in God, but I am not a religious fanatic. I cannot remember the last time I went to church.” And when you ask people who believe in such an ideology what takes them through life, they say, “The faith that takes me through life is my own little voice.” They will tell you their religion is to try to love, be yourself, and be gentle with yourself. On the face of it, it looks good. But it is individualism on steroids. Sadly, this worldview has filtered into people’s economic, political, social, and even religious lives. Everything now is a matter of what I want and what I decide. This very attitude leads people to pick and choose from the world's religions what they like and want to practice. They pick and combine elements from Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity, and that becomes their religion. 

Why am I talking about these issues? Because the Bible is firmly against such a move, especially in matters of religion. With everything I have said so far, listen to the opening line of St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians (1:1-3), “Paul, called to be an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God.” Paul identifies himself primarily as someone called, not by himself or by a powerful ruler, but by Christ Jesus. He is not the one doing the calling or making the decisions. He is not setting the agenda. He is in the passive voice. Paul identifies himself as someone called by another, as someone chosen by another. I tell you, that little opening line defines who Paul is. The anthropology of our culture is a wilful anthropology. It insists on what an individual wants, with no regard for what God wants for that individual. It charges people to reject anything or anybody that will decide the course of their lives. 

The voice of modernity tells us that “It belongs to the very nature of freedom to determine the meaning of one’s own life.” But long before the clamor to reject authority, tradition, religion, etc., we have Paul, who identified himself as someone “called,” meaning his life does not belong to him. As Saul, he tried to set the agenda for his own life. But when Christ met him and transformed him, he realized his life is not his own. He surrendered his will to the divine will. The Christian voice found in the book of Psalms says, “In you, O Lord, I have found my peace.” What does modernity say? “In your will, you find peace.” The Biblical standpoint is that we find our peace and deepest identity in God. That’s the same thing St. Paul is saying, too. 

What is God’s will for Paul? What did God call Paul to be? An apostle of Christ Jesus! Who is an apostle? The Greek word for apostle is “apostelein,” meaning “to send.” Paul describes himself as someone sent by Christ Jesus. Again, he is not sending himself. He is not determining. He has been determined. He is not setting his own path; his path is set for him. Paul is an apostle; he has been sent. He is like a letter, a message sent by Christ Jesus. Today, many in our culture are a million miles away from how Paul defined himself. In his writings, Paul often regards himself as “Doulos Jesu Christo,” meaning “a slave of Jesus Christ.” Imagine someone today in our culture delighting in the fact that he or she is a slave? But Paul says he is a slave of Jesus Christ. The Risen Jesus is the beginning, the middle, and the end of Paul’s life. The Risen Jesus is the reason he gets up in the morning. He is the reason he does everything. The Risen Jesus is the one who gave him a mission. And Paul is on a mission for Christ Jesus. 

It is important to know that the message is not Paul’s. It is not Paul's bright and profound ideas. Paul is not a guru or a spiritual master who has reached some understanding. He is a messenger, sent by another according to the will of God. In Paul's life, everything about self-assertion, self-determination, self-glorification, and an overemphasis on freedom has been reversed. In Paul, everything about this trendy new age religion has been reversed. In the first reading from Isaiah, we hear, “The Lord said to me: You are my servant, Israel, through whom I show my glory” (Isaiah 49:3). That’s who we are. We are the servants of the Lord. No matter what you have achieved in life, never forget that you are primarily a servant of God. No matter where you are, do not forget that you are a servant of God. By virtue of our baptism, we, like Paul, have also been called and sent by God. 

God bless you!

Homily on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

The Shocking Baptism of Jesus

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily on the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, January 11, 2026

The baptism of Jesus is both significant and embarrassing. How come? The first Christians believed and maintained that Jesus is the Savior, the Son of God, the spotless Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. If Jesus were all of those, why would he seek the baptism of repentance? John the Baptist, the last and greatest of the prophets, was baptizing people in the River Jordan. He was offering them the baptism of repentance. He was inviting sinners to come to him, repent of their sins, enter the water, and be baptized so their sins would be washed away. And Jesus too came to him. So Jesus began his public ministry by seeking the baptism of repentance. What’s going on? By the way, Jesus’ baptism is described in all four canonical Gospels, so there is no doubt about its occurrence. Why did the authors of the Gospels include this story?

Indeed, the Gospel writers insist that Jesus is the sinless Son of God. They maintain that he is the Word made flesh, the one who takes away the sins of the world. There is no ambiguity about this reality. But they also want to show us how strange God operates. God sets aside his glory and sneaks quietly into the muddy waters of Jordan. More than that, he stands side by side with sinners in that water. Imagine the kind of people who came to John. I believe some came with venial sins, while others came with grave, mortal sins, in search of mercy and peace. That is the space Jesus quietly enters, without fanfare, stands with sinners, and humbly submits himself to John’s baptism. For some of us who like to make a public spectacle of everything we do, look at our Savior. The first move in His public life is to look like a sinner and stand shoulder to shoulder with sinners. This is Christianity in full display. 

In Greek philosophy, God is considered the supreme good who moves the world by attraction from a distance. But no Greek philosopher would think it possible that God would pay attention to the filthy and sinful world or come down and stand with the wicked. In the Jewish context, the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others reveal the great holiness of God and the offense of our sin. They speak of how offensive we are to God, who is pure, holy, and good. That this extremely holy, pure, good, and spotless God would come down and enter into our condition, identify with us to the point of appearing as a sinner, was unheard of before. Yet that is how the public life of Jesus begins. The sinless one, at the beginning of his public ministry, identifies with us sinners to bring God’s love and mercy even into that place of sin. 

In the course of his public ministry, John the Baptist spoke in the language of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and others, “I am baptizing you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is mightier than I… His winnowing fan is in his hand. He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (Matthew 3:11-12). This is the language of God’s justice, typically found in the Old Testament prophets. John is the last of them. So when Jesus came to him, John, with his prophetic insight, recognized who he was and was shocked: “You should baptize me, and you are coming to me?” (John 3:14). In John’s calculation, that is not how God behaves. But that is how our God behaves. God humbles himself by becoming a human being; he stands with us sinners, even identifying with us in the muddy waters of our sin, just to share his love with us. This is the surprising way God breaks into the scene. 

Sisters and brothers, in Jesus, God has come to forgive our sins. Is he a teacher? Yes! Is he a healer? Yes! But at the heart of the matter, which reaches its height on the cross, is that he has come to forgive our sins. From his own lips, we hear, “I have come not for the righteous, but sinners. I have come not for the healthy, but the sick.” At the Last Supper, he said, “This is the cup of my Blood, the Blood of the new and everlasting covenant, which will be shed for you and for many.” Why? “So that sins may be forgiven.” That’s why he comes! And it is signaled here in his baptism. He has come to stand humbly and salvifically with us sinners. In the first reading from Isaiah, we hear, “a bruised reed he shall not break, and a smoldering wick he shall not quench.” A bruised reed is already cracked and broken. The temptation is always to say, “Well, it is cracked; let’s cut it off and throw it away.” But the prophet says that when the Messiah comes, he will repair the cracked and bruised reed rather than cut it off completely. He has not come to cast aside those of us who are offensive to God and not spiritually strong. He has come to heal and repair the broken reed. Isaiah also says, “A smoldering wick he shall not quench.” A smoldering wick is a wick with a flickering flame on a candle. Again, the temptation is to say, “This candle is not good. Its wick is weak. Blow it out and throw it away.” The Messiah, Jesus, has not come to do that; he has instead come to take the time to cultivate even that little flame and bring it to life. We are meant to be on fire with the divine life, but in sin we are like a bruised reed and a smoldering wick. Christ has come to enter into that experience and to nurture that life back. 

When Jesus presents himself for baptism, John the Baptist balks. He hesitates and says, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” But Jesus replies, “Allow it now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” The word “righteousness” appears throughout the Bible. What does it mean? It means “setting right.” Sin is a loss of righteousness, which means our relationship with God is broken. It is not primarily our task but God’s. The great revelation of the New Testament is that it is primarily God’s task. It is the grace of God that sets us right. It is done through the gracious humility of Jesus Christ. He comes into our sin to set us right. After his baptism, Jesus emerged from the water. Suddenly, the sky opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descend like a dove and hover over him. Then a voice from heaven resounds, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17). This is the first great manifestation of the Blessed Trinity to the human race. In this event, the Trinity is fully displayed. For what purpose? God wants to share his life with us. 

Praise The Lord! 

Homily on the Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord, Year A

The Five Priceless Lessons of the Epiphany of the Lord

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara, CSsR

Homily on the Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, Sunday 4, 2026

The feast of the Epiphany celebrates a grand unveiling. God reveals his Son not only to Israel but also to the nations—to the whole world. Yes, after the Baby King's birth on Christmas, he was revealed to Jewish shepherds. But very shortly after, the Magi from the East, foreigners and seekers, were led by a star to the Christ child. Who were they? They were astrologers. This signals that this child is not simply the King of the Jews; he is not merely a tribal leader but God himself, the King and Ruler of the world. This is why, when this child arrived, there was immediate, automatic international interest in him. In the Magi’s journey, worship, and return home, the Epiphany offers enduring lessons for our discipleship. Today, let us reflect on five priceless lessons of the Epiphany.

First lesson: God will reveal Himself to those who seek Him. The Magi were not part of the chosen people; they were outsiders. Yet they were attentive, searching, and willing to follow the signs God placed before them. God meets them where they are and draws them forward. The Epiphany teaches us that God never ignores sincere seeking.  All the people out there who consider themselves seekers, if you are genuinely seeking the truth, seeking God, God will find you. Sometimes faith begins not with certainty, but with longing. If you are willing to seek through prayer, the study of the Scriptures, the study of the Church’s teachings, the writings of the saints, and the openness of heart, God will reveal Himself to you. 

Second lesson: Jesus is meant for every nation. Although we don’t know much about the Magi, Matthew’s Gospel briefly mentions them. Yet they have captured the imagination of Christians for centuries. In most depictions, the Magi are portrayed as representatives of different races, often with one shown as a black African. These depictions may be historically inaccurate, but they are theologically and spiritually accurate. Christ has come for all the nations of the world. St. Paul says, “In Christ there is no Jew or Greek, no slave or free, no male or female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). This means that the most basic divisions among us have been overcome in Him. The light of Christ does not shine over Jerusalem alone but over the whole world. The Epiphany reminds us that Christ is not the possession of one people, culture, or nation. He is the Savior of all. If your life is truly hidden in Christ, you will reject every form of exclusion, division, racism, or tribalism. The Church is missionary by nature, called to reflect Christ’s light so that others may find their way to Him through our words, actions, and love.

Third lesson: The meek are truly blessed. In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall possess the land” (Matthew 5:5). Which land? In the Book of Psalms, “the land” refers to the Holy Land, the land of Palestine, meaning the kingdom. Where am I going with this? When the Magi arrived in Jerusalem, they expected a king. But what did they find? A child— poor, vulnerable, and dependent. Yet they knelt before Him. Epiphany teaches us that God often comes to us in humility: in the poor, the suffering, and the ordinary moments of life. Only humble hearts can recognize Him there.

Fourth lesson: True worship means offering our best. Following the star, the Magi came to the Baby King. After opening their bags, they offered him extraordinary gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These are costly gifts, each rich in meaning. The Magi did not give what was convenient but what was precious and expensive. So, what do we offer Christ? Our time, our talents, our faithfulness, our struggles? True worship is not merely words or rituals; it is the offering of our whole lives.

Fifth lesson: An encounter with Christ changes our direction. After meeting Jesus, the Magi returned home by another route. They could not go back the way they came. The final lesson of the Epiphany is that anyone who truly encounters Christ must change. We cannot meet the Lord and remain the same. His presence transforms our priorities, choices, and paths. Brothers and sisters, the Epiphany is not only about the long-ago revelation of Christ; it is about his ongoing revelation today. If we seek him, welcome his light, approach him with humility, offer him our best, and allow him to change us, Christ will be revealed to the world through us.

May the light of the Epiphany continue to guide our steps, until we, too, reach our true home in God. Amen.