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

What Have You Done With Everything God Has Given You?

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

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

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 15, 2026

In 1985, Father Steven Scheier, a Catholic priest in the Diocese of Wichita, Kansas, was returning to his parish when he was involved in a serious car accident and nearly died. He suffered a severe concussion and fractured vertebrae in his neck. He recounts finding himself judged by Jesus. According to him, “I was before the Throne of Judgment! Jesus Christ was the Judge. I didn’t see Him; I merely heard Him. What took place was instantaneous as far as “our time” is concerned. He went through my entire life and accused me of sins of commission and omission that were unconfessed and therefore unforgiven and unrepented. . . . To each offense, I said, “Yes, Lord!” I had planned excuses to say to the Lord . . . . Well, when you are talking to Truth personified, you don’t have any excuses; so all you say is “Yes, Lord!” After that, the Lord delivered his judgment: “Your sentence is Hell!” Father Scheier said he was not surprised by the judgment he received because he knew Jesus was merely honoring the choice he had made through the way he lived his life. However, something unexpected happened. He said, “It was then, after [Jesus] had said this, that I heard a woman’s voice: ‘Son, would You spare his life and his immortal soul?” The Lord said, “Mother, he has been a priest twelve years for himself, and not for Me; let him reap the punishment he deserves!” She replied, ‘But Son, what if we give to him special graces and strengths and then see if he bears fruit? If not, Your will be done!” There was a very short pause, and then I heard Him say, “Mother, he’s yours!”

As you might expect, Father Scheier gratefully embraced this great, entirely undeserved opportunity by completely changing his priorities and way of life. He began taking his religious responsibilities much more seriously and spent the rest of his life speaking at conferences and sharing his experience until his death in 2020. Of course, we should not assume that every sinner deserving of Hell will receive a similar second chance; Father Scheier was granted an extraordinary grace—something no one can truly merit or count on. His description of judgment, however, points to a reality each of us will one day face: standing before Our Lord and answering for every moral act of our lives, with no possibility of denial, blame-shifting, or excuses. Now is the time to prepare for this all-important event. If we truly live our faith each day, loving God with all our hearts and our neighbor as ourselves, this decisive moment of divine judgment will be a blessing and an experience of mercy and grace.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus draws on the world of business and finance to explain the spiritual life. In recent years, archaeologists have told us that a Roman town called Sepphoris stood not far from Nazareth and was being built during Jesus’s lifetime, beginning when he was a child. The Gospels refer to Joseph, Jesus’s foster father, as a “tekton.” Today, we interpret that to mean a carpenter, but a “tekton” was more than a carpenter. He was like a contractor, builder, artisan, or craftsman—someone who performed a range of practical tasks. It seems reasonable to speculate that as Sepphoris was being built, there would have been a need for a “tekton.” Since the town was not far from where Jesus lived, Joseph might have taken Jesus with him as he negotiated contracts and did his work. So it is not unreasonable to say that Jesus knew the world of business, work, and contracts. That is why he often draws on that world when speaking about the spiritual life. 

So, in today's famous parable, we find this context. A man goes on a journey, but before leaving, he entrusts his money to three servants. He gives the first servant five talents, the second two, and the third one. As soon as he departs, the first servant trades with the five talents. The second does the same, and both earn a rich return on their investment. The third servant, however, cautiously buries his talent. When the owner returns, he praises the first two servants and gives them greater responsibilities, but reprimands the third. This is a market economy and capitalism on full display. 

In a market economy, growing your business means investing and taking risks. That’s the principle! If you want the money in your bank to grow, you need to put it in a savings account or invest in a CD (certificate of deposit). A checking account alone won’t earn you anything. Whenever we want our money to grow, we have to take some risk. Some people invest in a 401(k) or stocks. I’ve met people who retired early because they took risks and invested during their working years, and they were fortunate that their investments paid off. If you simply hold on to your money, it won’t grow; over time, you'll lose out—or at least its value will decline. This is a basic principle of a market economy. In today's Gospel passage, Jesus beautifully explains that the same principle applies in the spiritual order: if you want God's grace to grow in you, you must give it away. Invest it. Risk it. You are given to give. 

Today’s Gospel is about talents. What was a talent in the Bible? It was a large bar of gold or silver—heavy and weighty. The Hebrew word for weightiness is “kabod,” used to describe God's weighty, glorious presence in the Temple. Yahweh’s “kabod” dwells especially on the mercy seat, atop the Ark of the Covenant. The mercy seat is where God’s weighty presence is known. The talents given to the three servants represent God's mercy, which they received in great abundance. Everything we have and are—life, breath, existence, capacities, powers, our bodies, and more—comes from God's abundant grace and mercy. Did we use these gifts for God’s glory or our own? Did we spend them on others or for egotistic purposes? 

The great American theologian Peter Kreeft said, “When we die and meet God, he will ask us three important questions. First: Who is your God? In whom do you place your trust? Is God truly the center of your life? Second: Who are you? What kind of person have you become? Are you loving or hateful? Humble or proud? A repentant sinner or an unrepentant one? Third: What have you done? What have you done with the gifts, opportunities, time, resources, grace, and mercy God entrusted to you? What have you done for others? What have you done for God? Notice that these three questions touch on our faith, our character, and our works. And when God asks, “What have you done?” he is not simply asking how much money you have accumulated, how many degrees you have earned, how successful you have become, or how influential you have been in society. He is asking whether you have used what he gave you to make a difference in others’ lives. Remember the words of that beautiful song inspired by Matthew 25: “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.”

God bless you!

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

What Have You Done With Everything God Has Given You?

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

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

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 15, 2026

In life, we prepare for events that matter deeply to us—events that could threaten or take away what we value most: our jobs, health, freedom, family, military security, and more. There is nothing wrong with preparing for these realities. But as we live and enjoy life, we should remember that the music and dancing will stop; the party will eventually end. It is only common sense to prepare for death, which not only threatens but is certain to take away everything we value in life, and life itself. The great Saint Alphonsus Liguori wrote a book entitled “Preparation for Death.” While this may sound a bit dark, the wisdom of this great saint and many others is that we should not forget the end of our lives: “memento mori,” “remember death,” or “remember that you must die.” St. John Vianney wrote, “We should spend as much time in preparing for death as we do in preparing for life.” St. Francis de Sales said, “Live each day as if it were your last.” St. John Chrysostom said, “The remembrance of death is a great teacher.” At death, we are presented to God in our entirety, along with our whole lives. Forgetting this is the most terrible, careless, and dangerous kind of absent-mindedness.

So, how should we prepare for this definitive end? St. Alphonsus urges us to prepare for death; Francis de Sales challenges us to live each day as if it were our last. In today’s second reading (1 Thessalonians 5:1-6), St. Paul, the foremost Christian theologian, writes, “Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay alert and sober.” A bumper sticker says, “Prepare for your final exam: read your Bible,” and I would add, “Pray and pray and pray.” What do these teachings mean in practical terms? How can we avoid spiritual slumber and stay alert and sober?

In today’s Gospel (Matthew 25:14-30), Jesus, the Teacher of teachers, answers with the parable of the talents: A man goes on a journey, but before leaving, he entrusts his money to three servants. He gives the first servant five talents, the second two, and the third one. As soon as he departs, the first servant trades with the five talents. The second does the same, and both earn a rich return on their investment. The third servant, however, cautiously buries his talent. When the owner returns, he praises the first two servants and gives them greater responsibilities, but reprimands the third. 

The contemporary meaning of “talent” includes money or power or ability. It can also refer to our time, abilities, and treasure. But in the ancient biblical sense, a talent means the kabod of Yahweh. In Greek, it is rendered as doxa; in Latin, as gloria; but the Hebrew word’s basic sense is heaviness, gravitas. This kabod of Yahweh was found only in the Temple in Jerusalem, resting on the mercy seat in the Holy of Holies. Here, talent signifies the weight and fullness of God’s glory—God’s mercy—abiding in Yahweh’s dwelling place, the Temple. The talents given to the three servants are not primarily monetary gifts or personal abilities; they are a share in God’s mercy, a participation in the depth of divine love. And because mercy is always directed toward others, these “talents” are meant to be shared. In fact, they increase precisely in the measure that we give them away.

The clear message of Jesus’ parable in today’s Gospel is that God expects us to use our talents—not hide them away or bury them. We should make use of everything God has placed in our hands—our intelligence, skills, time, wealth, influence, faith, and capacity to love. These gifts are not meant solely for our personal enjoyment or advancement; they are entrusted to us to use for God’s glory and in service to others. Like the servants in the parable, one day we will have to account for how we used what God entrusted to us. When we die and meet God, he will ask us three important questions. First: Who is your God? In whom do you place your trust? Is God truly the center of your life? Second: Who are you? What kind of person have you become? Are you loving or hateful? Humble or proud? A repentant sinner or an unrepentant one? Third: What have you done? What have you done with the gifts, opportunities, time, resources, grace, and mercy God entrusted to you? What have you done for others? What have you done for God? Notice that these three questions touch on our faith, our character, and our works. And when God asks, “What have you done?” He is not simply asking how much money you have accumulated, how many degrees you have earned, how successful you have become, or how influential you have been in society. He is asking whether you have used what He gave you to make a difference in others’ lives. Remember the words of that beautiful song inspired by Matthew 25: “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.”

Remember this: one day, the music will stop, the dancing will end, and the party will be over. We will all stand before God. On that day, what will matter is not how much we possessed, but how faithfully we used what God entrusted to us. 

God bless you!

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

The Frightening Lessons Of The Parable Of The Ten Virgins

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

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

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 8, 2026

In the Introduction to Scripture class, I learned that the Bible is the Word of God expressed in human words. I also learned that the Catholic Church regards the Bible as the inspired, inerrant (incapable of being wrong) Word of God, written by human authors under the inspiration, guidance, and superintendence of the Holy Spirit. What makes the Bible—called “ta biblia” in Greek, meaning “the book”—unique is that it tells the story of God’s profound longing and thirst for us, the human race. As I said in a previous homily, the Bible is not the story of our quest for God; rather, it is the story of God’s relentless quest for us. Visit the spirituality section of any bookstore, and you’ll find plenty of books about humanity’s quest for God. But the Bible tells a different story; it is not that kind of book. Its central principle is the primacy of grace. In the spiritual order, God always takes the initiative and sets the tone. God is always the Master of the conversation. God created us in love and sustains us in love. When we lost our way, God found us. That is why the Bible is often called the Good News. The true God of the Bible is neither a distant spiritual force or principle that we must struggle to find, locate, and relate to, nor a demanding moral taskmaster whom we can reach only through heroic effort. God found us first and continues to seek us out. 

How does my preamble connect with this week’s Gospel passage? Today’s Gospel, Matthew 25:1-13, contains two of the saddest lines and one of the hardest truths in the entire Bible. The first is: “Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.” Can we still call the Bible the Good News? Yes! Is God still searching for us? Yes! However, the Bible’s news is good only for those who accept it. God is indeed a relentless lover and tireless seeker, indefatigable in his quest for humanity. But salvation can happen only when God’s relentless quest for us meets our longing for him. No marriage between God and us can happen until we accept God’s proposal. The phrase, “I do not know you,” does not mean that the Almighty, omniscient God has suffered memory loss or developed dementia or Alzheimer’s. Rather, it means: “I have looked at you but cannot find my life in you.” At baptism, we receive divine life—God’s own life within us. What adversely affects the divine life in us? Sin! According to Saint Pope John Paul II, mortal sin destroys sanctifying grace and wipes out the divine life within the human soul. On the Solemnity of All Saints, I said in my homily, “The moment each of us was baptized, our names were written in God’s book of life. The goal of the spiritual life is to retain our names in that book. Sadly, some scratch out their names from the book of life because of what Saint Pope John Paul II called “the loss of sanctifying grace.”

The second saddest line in our Gospel is, “Then the door was locked.” That door is death, which closes off any further chances. If you are unprepared for other things in life, you might get a second chance. But no one gets a second chance after death. If you die inside the wedding feast of the Lamb, you are inside it forever; if you die outside it, you are outside it forever. Whatever needs attention in your life, be it spiritual or social, do it now. Don’t wait until tomorrow. In a commencement address at the University of Pennsylvania, Pulitzer Prize-winning author of The Emperor of All Maladies, Siddartha Mukherjee, shared a touching lesson from his experience treating terminally ill patients. He explained that, in their final moments, almost everyone seeks to make four specific offerings: “I want to tell you that I love you;” “I want to tell you that I forgive you;” “Would you tell me that you love me?” “Would you give me your forgiveness?” After sharing these insights, he urged the young graduates not to wait until they are facing death to express appreciation, let go of grudges, or show vulnerability, but to make these practices of love and forgiveness part of their daily lives now. 

And here is one of the hardest truths in the Bible: the divine life, once cultivated, cannot simply be shared with someone else at the last minute. The wise virgins are not being difficult, self-absorbed, selfish, or stingy when they tell their friends they cannot help. A saint cannot simply pour his life into another; it does not work that way. Some things cannot be borrowed. We can borrow material things from friends, but we cannot borrow a relationship with God. No man or woman can borrow good character; each must cultivate it and wear it like clothing. We can borrow clothes from a friend, but we must clothe ourselves in God's righteousness. We can borrow a car from a friend, but we need to ride with Jesus in his boat to heaven. We can borrow water from a neighbor, but we need to possess the Water of Life. We can borrow salt from a neighbor, but we must be the salt of the earth. We may borrow a pair of shoes, but we must walk in the footsteps of Jesus to be admitted to the Lord’s banquet.

Like the ten virgins in the parable, we await the arrival of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Groom. Perhaps Jesus told this parable because he knew his Church would have to wait a long time for his Second Coming. What should we do while we wait? Attend Mass regularly. Pray always. Spend time with the Lord. Grow in faith and become mature Christians. Educate yourself in the faith. Work hard to overcome habitual sins. Confess your sins regularly through the sacrament of confession. Forgive those who have offended you. Complain less and be more grateful. Cultivate patience—with God and with others. Participate in the Eucharist. Perform the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. Become a person of love—a cross-shaped love, vertical and horizontal: love of God and neighbor. I tell you, if we neglect and ignore these things, we will be like the foolish virgins. 

God bless you!

Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints

The Two Paths To Holiness And Sainthood

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Solemnity of All Saints

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, November 1, 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

What Does It Mean To Love God?

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 25, 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

The Persistence Of Israel’s Moral Law

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 25, 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God bless you!

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

The Unbreakable Bond Between Love for God and Love for Neighbor

Rev. Marcel Divine Emeka Okwara

Homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

Church of St. Bridget of Minneapolis, MN

Sunday, October 25, 2026

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

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

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

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

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

God bless you!