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Saturday, March 14, 2026

Homily: “Lord, Help Me See” (John 9:1, 6–9, 13–17, 34–38)

 Homily: “Lord, Help Me See”

(John 9:1, 6–9, 13–17, 34–38)


Several years ago, a surgeon who specialized in restoring sight told the story of a young boy who had been blind since birth.

After a delicate surgery, the day finally came when the bandages would be removed.

The room was quiet. His parents stood nearby holding their breath.

The doctor slowly removed the bandages.

For the first time in his life, light flooded into the boy’s eyes.

He blinked… looked around the room… staring at everything with amazement.

Then he turned toward his mother.

He reached out his hand, touched her face gently, and asked a question that brought everyone in the room to tears.

He said:

“Mom… is this what you look like?”

[Pause]

For the first time in his life, he could see the face of the person who had loved him since the day he was born.

Brothers and sisters,

Today’s Gospel tells the story of another man who experienced that same miracle.

But what Jesus gives him is not only sight for his eyes…

He gives sight to his soul.


In today’s Gospel we meet a man who has lived his entire life in darkness.

He has never seen the sky.
Never seen the face of a loved one.
Never seen the beauty of the world around him.

And when Jesus’ disciples see him, they ask a question many people still ask when they encounter suffering.

"Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

They assume suffering must be someone's fault.

But Jesus shifts their perspective.

He says:

"Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him."

In other words, Jesus reveals something powerful:

Even suffering can become a place where God’s glory appears.


Then Jesus does something unusual.

He spits on the ground, makes mud with the dust of the earth, and spreads it on the man’s eyes.

At first this may seem strange.

But if we remember the story of creation in Genesis, something beautiful appears.

God created humanity from the dust of the earth.

So when Jesus takes dust and forms clay again, something deeper is happening.

The Creator is restoring His creation.

Jesus is not simply healing this man.

He is re-creating him.


But the miracle is not finished yet.

Jesus tells the man:

"Go wash in the Pool of Siloam."

And here is something we should not overlook.

The man obeys.

He cannot see Jesus.
He does not fully understand what is happening.

But he trusts.

He walks to the pool.
He washes the clay from his eyes.

And suddenly, for the first time in his life…

he sees.

Imagine that moment.

Light rushing into his eyes.
The colors of the world.
The faces of people around him.


But strangely, the miracle does not lead to celebration.

Instead, the religious leaders begin questioning him.

They interrogate him.
They challenge him.

Eventually they throw him out.

Why?

Because the miracle challenges their certainty.

They believe they already understand God.

And here the Gospel quietly reveals something powerful:

The man who was blind begins to see…
while those who claim to see become spiritually blind.

When they question him, the man simply says:

“I was blind… and now I see.”

[Pause]

Those words describe more than physical healing.

They describe spiritual awakening.

Because the greatest blindness is not failing to see the world…

it is failing to see God.


One of the greatest saints in the history of the Church once described his life before conversion as a kind of blindness.

His name was St. Augustine.

Augustine was brilliant. Educated. Successful.

But he spent years searching for happiness in everything except God.

Later he wrote these words:

"I was blind, and I loved my blindness.
You were there, Lord, but I did not see you."

Then one day he encountered Christ in a profound way.

And his eyes were finally opened.

And he wrote the famous words:

“Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new.”

Augustine realized something the blind man in today’s Gospel also discovered:

The greatest blindness is not failing to see the world —
it is failing to see God.


And the Gospel ends in a beautiful way.

After the man is rejected and thrown out, Jesus goes looking for him.

Notice that.

The world rejects him.

But Jesus seeks him out.

And when Jesus finds him, He asks a question:

"Do you believe in the Son of Man?"

The man answers with humility:

"Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?"

And Jesus says,

"You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he."

Now imagine that moment.

This man had just begun seeing the world for the first time.
He had seen people, faces, colors, and the beauty of creation.

But now something even greater happens.

For the first time in his life, he recognizes the One who healed him.

He sees not only the world around him…

he sees the Savior.

And his response is immediate:

“I do believe, Lord.”

And the Gospel tells us:

he worshiped Him.


Brothers and sisters,

That is the true miracle of this Gospel.

Not simply that a man who was blind could see the world.

But that his eyes were opened enough to recognize Christ.

Because many people today can see perfectly with their eyes…

yet they never recognize God working in their lives.

And so perhaps the most honest prayer we can offer today is very simple:

[Slow down]

Lord Jesus…

I was blind…

Help me to see.

Friday, March 13, 2026

I was blind and now I see - 4th Sunday of Lent (Year A)


In today’s Gospel, we meet a man who has been blind from birth.

He has never seen a sunrise.

Never seen his parents’ faces.

Never seen the road in front of him.

And when the disciples see him, they ask a question that many of us ask when life is hard:

“Who sinned?”

Whose fault is this?

But Jesus answers in a surprising way:

“Neither he nor his parents sinned.

This happened so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

In other words, this man’s life is not meaningless.

His suffering is not wasted.

God will use it for something greater.

Jesus then kneels down, makes clay with His saliva, and rubs it on the man’s eyes.

And He tells him, “Go wash in the pool of Siloam.”

The man could have said,

“Why mud?”

“Why walk there?”

“Why not heal me right now?”

But instead, he goes. He trusts. He obeys.

And when he washes…he can see.

That moment must have been overwhelming.

The first thing his eyes ever saw was light.

But what follows is even more remarkable.

Instead of joy, the man faces questioning.

Instead of praise, he faces doubt.

Instead of celebration, he faces rejection.

The Pharisees say, “This man cannot be from God.”

They examine him again and again.
They pressure him.
They threaten him.

But listen to his simple faith:

“All I know is this:

I was blind, and now I see.”

He doesn’t argue theology.

He doesn’t give a lecture.

He gives a witness.

That is how faith grows: not through winning arguments,

but through telling the truth of what God has done for us.

And when they throw him out of the synagogue,

Jesus goes to find him.

He does not leave him alone.

He seeks him out.

And when Jesus asks,

“Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

the man says,

“Lord, I believe,” and he worships Him.

This Gospel shows us something beautiful:

the man moves from darkness, to sight…
Then to faith…
and then to worship.

That is the journey of every Christian life.

Let me share that once again.

the man moves from darkness, to sight…
Then to faith…
and then to worship.

 


Let me share a short story to help us understand a little more deeply.

There was a little girl who was born with very poor eyesight.

She could not read books like the other children.

She could not see faces clearly.

She often bumped into things.

One day her mother asked her,

“Does it make you sad that you can’t see like the other kids?”

The girl thought for a moment and said,

“Sometimes… but God must have a reason.”

Years later, she was able to have a very special surgery.

And after the bandages were removed,

for the first time in her life, she saw clearly.

She began to cry.

Her mother said,

“Why are you crying? You can see now!”

And the girl answered,

“I think God wanted me to learn how to trust Him before I learned how to see.”

“I think God wanted me to learn how to trust Him before I learned how to see.”

 

Wow! That is wisdom, and from such a young soul.

And that is exactly what the blind man in the Gospel learned.

Before he ever saw Jesus’ face, he trusted Jesus’ voice.

Before he ever worshiped Him, he obeyed Him.

And that is why his healing becomes a miracle of the soul,
not just of the eyes.


Families, this Gospel speaks to us today because many of us can see physically… but we struggle to see spiritually.

We see our problems clearly.
We see our worries clearly.
We see the brokenness of the world clearly.

But do we see God at work?

Do we see His mercy?
Do we see His hand guiding us?
Do we see His presence in our homes?

The Pharisees see the miracle… but refuse to believe.

Why?

Because they already think they know everything.

But the blind man is humble.

He is open.

He is willing to be taught.

And that makes all the difference.

Children, this Gospel teaches you something important:
Jesus is not just someone you learn about.
He is someone you follow.

Parents and grandparents,
this Gospel reminds us that the most powerful faith we pass on
is not perfect knowledge… but lived trust.

The blind man does not say,

“I understand everything.”

He says,

“I was blind, and now I see.”

That is faith.

Faith does not mean life is easy.

It means life has light.

Faith does not mean there is no suffering.

It means suffering has meaning.

Faith does not mean we never struggle.

It means we never struggle alone.


And look at how this Gospel ends.

The man is cast out.

He loses his place in the community.

But Jesus finds him.

When the world pushes him away, Jesus pulls him close.

That is our hope.

When we are confused, Jesus finds us.

When we are afraid, Jesus finds us.

When we are rejected, Jesus finds us.

And He asks us the same question He asked that man:

“Do you believe?”

Not: “Do you understand everything?”

Not: “Have you figured it all out?”

But: “Do you trust Me?”

And when the man answers yes, he worships Jesus.

Because the goal of healing is not comfort.

The goal of healing is communion with God.

 

Let us end in prayer:

Lord, open our eyes.

Help us see Your hand in our lives.

Help us see Your love in our families.

Help us see Your grace even in our trials.

And when we do not understand,

let us still say with the man born blind:

“Lord, I believe.”

And may that faith become light not only for us,

but for our children,

and especially for

a world still searching for sight.

Amen

Sunday, November 16, 2025

By your perseverance you will secure your lives (33rd Sunday Ordinary Time - Year C)

 


Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Luke 21:5–19


(“By your perseverance you will secure your lives.”)

Today’s Gospel gives us words that can shake us.

Jesus speaks of destruction, wars, earthquakes, persecution…

He tells His disciples that even the beautiful Temple — the pride of Jerusalem — will be torn down stone by stone.

You can imagine their shock.

The Temple was everything to them — it was their place of worship, their security, their proof that God was near.

And yet Jesus says: “Not one stone will be left upon another.”

Why would He say that?

Because He wants them — and us — to understand that faith cannot be built on things that crumble.

Even the most sacred building, the strongest nation, the best of plans… can fall.

But the heart that trusts in God — that endures.


1. Jesus isn’t warning us to fear — He’s inviting us to trust.

Jesus is not trying to frighten His followers; He’s preparing them for reality.

He’s saying: “Your faith can’t depend on comfort, or calm, or control.”

Because those things change.

What matters most is perseverance — the kind of faith that doesn’t give up when the world shakes.

The early Christians knew this.

They faced ridicule, rejection, even death.

Yet they stood firm — not because they were fearless, but because they knew Who walked with them.

Jesus promised:

“Not a hair on your head will be destroyed.

By your perseverance, you will secure your lives.”


2. A Story of Faith in the Fire

Let me a simple story with you.

There was a young mother named Clare, raising three kids in

poor city neighborhood.

Her husband had left, her job barely covered the bills, and her oldest child started drifting into trouble.

She told her pastor, “I’m tired. I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

And he said, “Then hold onto the one thing that won’t fall apart — your faith.”

So every morning before work, she lit a candle before a small image of the Sacred Heart and prayed,

“Lord, I can’t fix everything — but I trust You’ll walk with me through it.”

Months later, when things finally began to turn around — she said,

“It wasn’t the world that changed first — it was my heart that stopped giving up.”

That, my friends, is perseverance.

That is faith that refuses to quit — even when life gets messy.


3. So, What Does This Means for Us Today

Every one of us here has our own “Temple.”

For some, it’s our health.

For others, it’s our home, our work, our sense of control, our plans for the kids, or our dreams for the future.

And when any of those start to fall apart, it shakes us to the core.

But Jesus says, “Do not be terrified.”

Because when the world around us trembles — God hasn’t gone anywhere.

He’s right there in the middle of the storm, waiting for us to look up and say,

“Jesus, I still trust You.”

He’s not calling us to fear what’s coming —

He’s calling us to trust Who’s coming.


4. So what does Perseverance in Everyday Life looklike?

Now perseverance doesn’t mean never being afraid.

It means showing up anyway.

It’s the father who still brings his family to Mass, even when the

kids fidget and life feels heavy.

It’s the grandmother who keeps praying her rosary every night,

even when her knees ache.

It’s the mother who cooks, cleans, and loves even when exhausted.

It’s the young adult who stays faithful in a world that tells them faith is old-fashioned.

That’s perseverance.

That’s the kind of quiet courage that builds holiness.

And you know — in our small parish, we see it every day.

We see it in the volunteers who clean and decorate the church,

In those who joyfully serve as sacristans, readers, altar servers, and extra ordinary Eucharistic ministers,

in parents who juggle jobs and still teach their children to make

the Sign of the Cross and pray together to God every night,

in those who carry hidden burdens but still smile and say, “Thanks be to God.”

That’s the strength Jesus speaks of today.


5. And then there is The Hope of the Gospel

Jesus never promised His followers an easy road.
He promised something better — His presence on the road.

He said, “I will be with you always.”

And when Jesus is with you, even the hardest trial becomes a path to grace.

The same Lord who foretold the Temple’s fall

is the same Lord who rose from the tomb.

He brings life from loss, and glory from suffering.

So when we look at the world — the chaos, the violence, the uncertainty —

don’t let your heart be troubled.

Because the story doesn’t end with destruction…
It ends with resurrection.


6. Closing: A Call to Faith

My friends, as we gather here in this little church —

as families, neighbors, and people of faith —

let us ask the Holy Spirit to give us that same holy perseverance.

To help us love when it’s hard,

to forgive when we’re tired,

to hope when we can’t see the outcome.

Because one day, when all the stones of this world have fallen,
what will remain is the soul that stood firm in Christ.

And we will hear Him say,

“Well done, my good and faithful servant…

by your perseverance, you have secured your life.”

Amen.