Path To Sunday

Divine Mercy Sunday Readings: Acts, Revelation, John

Through the sacrament of reconciliation, we experience this love and mercy tangibly, feeling the cleansing power of forgiveness. As we journey, let’s remember our constant need for God’s mercy. Let’s approach Him with confidence, knowing that no sin is too great for His abundant grace. As St. Faustina recorded Jesus saying, “I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon the souls who approach the Fount of My Mercy. Let no soul fear to draw near to Me, even though its sins be as scarlet…” (Diary 699).

Readings for Sunday: Acts, Colossians, John

The story of Easter is not a recent one—it was written nearly 2,000 years ago. It centers on a man named Jesus of Nazareth, a carpenter by trade, whose life and death sparked a movement that has endured for millennia. He was executed by crucifixion, a brutal method perfected by the Romans. To ensure his death, a soldier pierced his side with a lance. By all accounts, he was undeniably dead.

Yet, three days later, on Sunday morning, his followers claimed to have seen him alive—not as a ghost or a mere apparition, but truly and fully bodily alive. He bore the wounds of crucifixion, could appear and disappear, and even ate food with them. His resurrection was not symbolic. It was physical, tangible, and unprecedented.

Eyewitnesses like Peter declared, “We ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.” Mary Magdalene discovered the empty tomb and, according to the Gospel accounts, did not immediately assume a resurrection. At that time, Jewish belief held that bodily resurrection would occur at the end of time, not to a single person in the present.

Despite facing persecution and death, the disciples never wavered in their assertion that they saw Jesus, bodily risen from the dead. That belief radically changes how a person sees life and even existence itself.

If Jesus is indeed the God-man, possessing eternal life in himself, then perhaps our lives should reflect that truth. As St. Paul urges: “Seek what is above… For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” This is the heart of Easter.

Readings for Sunday: Luke, Isaiah, Philippians, Luke

About 2,000 years ago, Jesus walked into Jerusalem in triumph on the first day of the Jewish week. They were waving palm branches, the historic and biblical sign of victory. By Friday, the crowd was yelling, “crucify him!” What happened in between? Even among the twelve apostles, Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him, and all but John ran away. The Blessed Mother Mary and a few other women stood fast. But overall, Holy Week begins with the reading of the Passion story: Jesus was abandoned, denied, tortured, and publicly executed. The man did absolutely nothing wrong in life whatsoever; he was and is sinless.

We see in Jesus, God’s love for us in that God took on our humanity and then suffered and died at our hands to save us from sin and everlasting death.

When we celebrate Easter, Christ’s victory, the cross itself becomes transformed. In that way, the cross takes on multiple meanings: our sins, God’s mercy and love, the transformation of human suffering, and ultimate victory.

All four Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, are different in their own ways. Yet all four center on, and devote the most space to, the Passion narrative. It is the center of our faith. If Jesus didn’t suffer, die, and rise, we simply would not exist as the Church; there would be no St. James Parish.

Readings for Sunday: Isaiah, Philippians, John

In today’s world, we live in a culture that emphasizes permissiveness and a reluctance to judge others. Phrases like “live and let live” dominate discussions on morality. Today’s Gospel—where Jesus tells the crowd, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone”—is often misinterpreted as supporting a non-judgmental attitude toward sin. But is this truly the message of Christ?

The Gospel presents a profound moment: the Pharisees bring a woman caught in adultery before Jesus, attempting to trap Him. If He condemns her, He violates Roman law; if He spares her, He contradicts Mosaic law. Jesus’ response is brilliant—He neither denies the law nor authorizes her stoning but shifts the focus onto the sinfulness of her accusers. One by one, they leave, beginning with the elders who recognize their own faults.

However, the story does not end with Jesus simply letting the woman go. His final words to her are crucial: “Go, and from now on, do not sin anymore.” This is where contemporary interpretations often falter. Jesus does not endorse a “live however you want” attitude; rather, He calls for repentance.

There is a difference between judging a person’s soul—reserved for God alone—and judging actions according to God’s moral law. Sin is not subjective; it is real, and it damages our souls. This Lenten season reminds us that God’s patience is meant to lead us to salvation. True freedom lies not in permissiveness, but in striving to live in Christ, embracing holiness, and rejecting sin.

Readings for Sunday: Joshua, 2 Corinthians, Luke

Have you ever considered what it would be like if everyone could see your thoughts—like a screen floating above your head, broadcasting every hidden idea 24/7? Scary, right? The truth is, while no one else can see those thoughts, God can. Every lie, impure thought, selfish decision—He sees it all. That’s a sobering thought because, if we’re honest, we often believe we’re “good enough” for heaven. Yet, if we were all suddenly in heaven, thinking and behaving as we are now, heaven would no longer be a perfect place.

That is why we need Jesus. The story of the Prodigal Son reminds us of this. The younger son took his inheritance early—essentially wishing his father dead—then squandered it recklessly. When he hit rock bottom, starving and tending pigs, he decided to return home. Not because of a deep love for his father, but because he was hungry—an imperfect contrition born from need, not pure love.

Yet, his father saw him from a distance, ran to him, and welcomed him back as a son, not a servant. God is like that father—eager to forgive, seeking us out even when we think we’re the ones searching for Him. Maybe you see yourself in the younger son, feeling distant from God. Or perhaps you relate to the older son—dutiful yet struggling to love fully.

Wherever you are, God is waiting. His forgiveness is not earned; it’s a gift. As Easter approaches, consider seeking reconciliation. God’s grace is there—freely given, paid for by Christ. Will you accept it?

Readings for Sunday: Exodus, 1 Corinthians, Luke

Suffering is one of the great and universal mysteries of human life. Immense suffering – such as grueling cancer treatment, a catastrophic car accident, or the unexpected loss of a loved one – touches nearly everyone. We often ask, “Why?” Some believe suffering is God’s punishment, but today’s Gospel provides clarity: God does not cause suffering, though He permits it for our salvation.

Many assume suffering is divine retribution, but Jesus refutes this idea when addressing the tragic deaths of Galileans under Pontius Pilate. If suffering were punishment, then all sinners would suffer equally. Instead, suffering exists because of human free will. From Adam and Eve’s original sin to historical atrocities like the Holocaust, much suffering is caused by human choices. Even natural disasters reflect a world thrown into disorder by sin.

So why does God permit suffering? The Gospel’s parable of the barren fig tree offers insight: like the gardener who nurtures the tree to bear fruit, God allows suffering to transform us, making us holy. Many believe they are already good enough for heaven, yet Jesus calls for true repentance. Without transformation, heaven would not be paradise but a continuation of our earthly failings.

God permitted Jesus’ suffering on the cross, drawing ultimate good—our salvation—from evil. Likewise, suffering purifies and prepares us for eternal life. While we may not understand suffering’s purpose in the moment, faith assures us that God uses it to sanctify us. In the end, His love and the power of Christ’s sacrifice will bring us eternal joy.

Readings for Sunday: Genesis, Philippians, Luke

There is an old expression: “blood is thicker than water.” It means that family bonds are stronger than any other relationship, including with our friends. That expression is most definitely true when it comes to the blood of Christ. We can see this in the readings this weekend. It starts in the first reading from Genesis, where God establishes a covenant with Abram, eventually renaming him Abraham. A covenant was not just a contract. A covenant established a family relationship, a “blood” relationship. And thus, unlike a contract which is time limited, a covenant is for life. In that time in the Middle East, when two groups or tribes wanted to establish a covenant, there would be a ceremony in which animals were cut up, shedding blood, and the two parties would walk between the animal parts invoking the gods as witness to the establishment of a covenant/blood relationship. In the first reading, we hear of how the One true God, with himself as witness, established a covenant with Abraham and his descendants.

Fast forward to Jesus’ day, and we see that God establishes a new covenant in the blood of Christ for both Jews (Abraham’s descendants) and gentiles (everybody else). In the Gospel reading, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem where he will suffer, die and rise from the dead. Along the way, he goes up a mountain to pray and is transfigured in glory. It states, “And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.”

Moses and Elijah represent the whole of the Old Testament, the Law and the Prophets. The exodus that he was going to accomplish is freeing humanity from slavery to sin and death under the Devil, much like God freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt to Pharoah. God freed his people and led them through the waters of the Red Sea to the promised land.

The new covenant that Jesus established in his blood is applied to us in the waters of baptism, when we are adopted as God’s sons and daughters and promised a place in his eternal home. That is why St. Paul states in the second reading: “our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” While some people may think the waters of baptism are simple show and empty ritual, we realize that in and through the water, the blood of Christ binds us to the Father as family. In Christ, blood is truly thicker than water.

Readings for Sunday: Deuteronomy, Romans, Luke

It may shock us, but Jesus was tempted, even though he was God. Of course, he never sinned, which shows us that temptation itself is not a sin. We can be tempted and choose not to sin. While Jesus is fully God, he is also fully human. He had a human soul and body. He had a human mind and will, as well as the divine mind and will. Thus, it means that it was possible for Jesus, in his humanity, to be tempted, and his resistance to it teaches us.

Satan’s temptation of Jesus was tri partite. In suggesting that Jesus turn stones into bread after his forty day fast, Satan was tempting him to use his power for self-satisfaction rather than serving others. Jesus rejected being a self-serving, earthly Messiah. In suggesting that Jesus bow before him in exchange for worldly power, Satan was tempting Jesus to abandon his heavenly kingdom for an earthly one.

And finally, in suggesting that Jesus throw himself down from the parapet of the temple – so that God will send angels to save him – Satan is tempting Jesus to pride. Jesus came to give his life to save humanity in humble obedience to the Father.

Like Jesus, we can be tempted to satiate our desires, make our earthly life our highest goal, and live a prideful life – thinking that life revolves around us, rather than our life around God. Yet, we can be like Jesus, rejecting temptation and seeking to live according to the Father’s plan. This Lent, our practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving should help us to grow in holiness, becoming more like Christ as we seek first and foremost the kingdom of God.

Readings for Sunday: Sirach, 1 Corinthians, Luke

If an anthropologist from the future, traveling back in time with an invisibility cloak could observe you every day, all day, for months: what type of report would he write? It is easy for us to declare what our ideals are, but talk is cheap. How do we actually live? In the Gospel for this Sunday, Jesus says, “A good tree does not bear rotten fruit, nor does a rotten tree bear good fruit. For every tree is known by its own fruit… A good person out of the store of goodness in his heart produces good, but an evil person out of a store of evil produces evil; for from the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks.” We all like to think of ourselves as good people, yet, if we are honest, we not only sin but even have thought patterns that are not always good. We judge people, we lust, and we are often selfish and self-centered.

Holiness is not simply avoiding sin; though to be clear, we should not sin. Holiness, in the end, is about conformity to Jesus Christ. It is to become just like him: to be a son or daughter of God in and through the Son of God.

To think like him, be like him, take on his dispositions and, in the end, act like him. That is why the Catholic Church teaches both about what entertainment we “consume” and the inculcation of virtue, that is, good habits.

Regarding entertainment, as well as books and so on, the Church teaches us to choose carefully. We like to think that we have great mental filters, and that we can filter out bad material. But that is not true. After all, have you ever had a song stuck in your head? How did it get there? Virtue is the day in and day out doing of good things, to the point that they become habit. Habits can be good (virtues) or bad (vices). We want to be so like Jesus Christ that it becomes “natural;” we want to be holy.

Readings for Sunday: 1 Samuel, 1 Corinthians, Luke

Sometimes Jesus’ commands seem crazy; for example, in today’s Gospel, he tells us to “love our enemies, do good to those who hate you.” Yet, if we understand it, it makes perfect sense. In the first place, the actual word in the original Greek text is Ἀγαπᾶτε (agapate); it is the command form of the verb agapaó, “to love.” But this is different than the other Greek words for love such as phileō (brotherly love, the love of friends), stérgō (family feeling), éramai (physical love, romantic love, sexual love). Agapaó means to do good for the other person without expectation of repayment. It has nothing to do with how you feel, rather, it is about what you do. Jesus would ultimately say, “No one has greater love (agape) than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

We, as sinners, were in a sense God’s enemies. St. Paul wrote, “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). We see God’s love for us in the Cross. We see God’s love in what he did for us, not expeting repayment because it is impossible to buy or earn or compensate God’s for our salvation. As God loves us, we are to love others, even our enemies.

There is a difference between authentically loving someone and liking someone. Liking someone means you enjoy being around that person, and or you agree with that person, and so on. You can truly love (agapaó) someone while not liking him. You can like someone without truly loving her. We have probably all had friends who like us but didn’t truly love us: they were not there when we truly needed them or they were not willing to do good for us without expecting some kind of payment or return. Jesus is not like that: he truly loves us, even when we are not being very likable; he truly loves us even though we are sinners.