Mark Jacks

In today’s world, it’s often said that the quickest way to end a conversation is to bring up politics or religion. Yet, let’s address both because they reveal a deeper truth about our lives. Politics, especially in a democracy like ours, can often highlight the imperfections and injustices in human society—whether it’s the history of slavery, the denial of rights, or the current battles over life and dignity. We may see problems in our own country, but when we look to other forms of government, like communism or dictatorship, we witness even greater suffering. Despite its flaws, democracy offers a glimpse of freedom, but it is far from perfect.

This leads us to a profound question: What would a truly just ruler look like? What if there were a king who was wise, merciful, and self-sacrificial—a ruler who sought not his own good but the good of all people? This is the kind of king we find in Jesus Christ.

The Sunday Gospel from Mark 13:24-32 is a powerful reminder that life as we know it is temporary. Jesus tells us, “The sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light,” evoking an image of the world winding down, like the fading light at the end of a day. These words might stir unease, but Jesus doesn’t speak of the end to frighten us. Rather, He invites us to live with intention, aware that each day is a gift and an opportunity to prepare for eternity.

As we age, we feel time’s passing more keenly. The energy and seeming endlessness of youth give way to a more sober awareness of life’s limits. Just as the days shorten in fall, we begin to recognize that one day we, too, will stand before Christ. Yet, Jesus tells us that no one knows the “day or the hour”—only the Father.

Have you ever wondered what God wants from you? Often, we rush through our days, focused on routines—work, school, family—without thinking about deeper questions. It’s usually when something goes wrong—a sickness, job loss, or loss of a loved one—that we pause and ask, “God, what do you want from me?”

God’s answer is simple yet profound: He wants everything—our whole hearts and lives. In Sunday’s Gospel (Mark 12:38-44), Jesus notices a poor widow placing her last coins in the temple treasury. “For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood.”

In today’s Gospel (Mark 12:28-34), Jesus is asked which commandment is the greatest. His response is both simple and profound: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength;” and then he adds a second, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” These two commands encapsulate the essence of our faith, but they are far from easy to live out.

This passage invites us to reflect on what true love means. In our culture, love is often reduced to a feeling or preference—liking someone or something. However, Jesus calls us to a much deeper love, the kind He showed on the cross: agape, a love of self-sacrifice and action. It’s not about feelings but about choosing to do good for others, even those we may not like or who hurt us. True love is laying down our lives in small ways for the sake of others.

Fear touches every part of our lives. We fear sickness, loneliness, financial loss, and ultimately, death. These fears can paralyze us, keeping us from moving forward. But in today’s Gospel, the story of Bartimaeus offers a profound reflection on how we can find hope through faith in Jesus.

Bartimaeus, whose name means “son of fear,” lived his life in darkness, unable to work or support himself, left to beg on the streets. Fear blinds us in a similar way, preventing us from seeing solutions, hope, or a way forward. Yet, when Bartimaeus hears Jesus is near, he doesn’t hold back. He cries out in humility, asking for mercy: “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me.”

His cry is a model for our own prayer—persistent, humble, and trusting. Even when others try to silence him, Bartimaeus continues to call out, trusting that Jesus will respond. And Jesus does stop, calling Bartimaeus to come to Him. In an act of faith, Bartimaeus throws aside his cloak, a symbol of his old life, and asks for healing.

In reflecting on the role of the priesthood, we are reminded of the profound insights from the Letter to the Hebrews. In this passage, we are told that Jesus is our great High Priest, who has “passed through the heavens” and can sympathize with our weaknesses, having been tested in every way, yet without sin. This speaks to the depth of Christ’s love and solidarity with us. He understands our struggles, and as our High Priest, He intercedes for us continually before the Father.

In the Old Testament, the high priests offered sacrifices on behalf of the people to atone for their sins, but these sacrifices were temporary.

In today’s world, it’s easy to view wealth and material success as signs of blessing. We look at the affluent—celebrities, business moguls, or even the wealthy families in our own neighborhoods—and think that their lives must be filled with happiness and security. But Jesus offers a different perspective in the Gospel. The rich young man who approaches Jesus is genuinely seeking eternal life, but when Jesus invites him to give up his possessions and follow Him, the man leaves in sorrow. His wealth, instead of bringing him closer to God, becomes a barrier to the deeper relationship he desires. This story invites us to reflect on our own attachments.

Respect Life Sunday, observed during October’s Respect Life Month, prompts us to reflect on the Catholic Church’s teachings amidst a culturally contentious landscape. As society often questions or rejects Catholic values on issues such as marriage, divorce, and abortion, it’s crucial to understand that our faith offers more than just arguments—it presents a profound and beautiful vision of truth and goodness.

This vision is grounded in the Genesis account, where God creates a partner for Adam, illustrating that marriage is not merely a social contract but a divine institution intended for unity and lifelong commitment. The biblical story shows that man and woman are made for each other, embodying a sacred partnership where two become one flesh. This union reflects the Church’s teaching that marriage is meant to be permanent, a principle upheld by Jesus in the Gospel, who emphasizes that marriage is a covenant established by God and should not be separated by human intervention.

In examining our spiritual lives and the world around us, it’s crucial to recognize how gradually we can be led away from righteousness. Our culture is constantly shifting, often in ways that erode our moral and spiritual standards. This subtle decline can be likened to the fable of the boiling frog—a story that illustrates how danger can go unnoticed when it escalates slowly. Just as a frog in lukewarm water fails to sense the increasing heat until it’s too late, we may not perceive the gradual onset of moral and spiritual decay in our own lives. This fable serves as a powerful metaphor for how we can become desensitized to sin and complacent in the face of growing immorality.

Our culture is saturated with messages that trivialize sin and degrade human dignity—through provocative advertisements, suggestive media, and the normalization of harmful behaviors.