Path To Sunday

Ever wonder why we Catholics honor Mary? You can find the answer in this Sunday’s Gospel reading, which comes from Luke 1:39-45. In the verses immediately preceding this passage (Luke 1:26-38), we hear how the Archangel Gabriel announced to Mary that she would conceive and bear a son. Gabriel also informed Mary that her cousin Elizabeth had conceived a child in her old age. With the Christ child in her womb, Mary sets off to visit her cousin.

When Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s house, Elizabeth, “filled with the Holy Spirit,” exclaims: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”

Gaudete Sunday invites us to embrace a deeper, more profound joy than what the world typically defines as happiness. The word “Gaudete,” meaning “rejoice” in Latin, is a command, not just a suggestion. St. Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, urges us to rejoice always, emphasizing that the reason for this joy is the presence of the Lord. This call to rejoice is not about feeling happy in every moment but recognizing the true source of our joy—God Himself.

Jesus, the Son of God, became human, suffered, and died for our salvation. He offers us a share in His divine life through baptism and the Eucharist. Even when we face suffering and hardship, we are invited to unite our pain with Christ, offering it up as a way to grow in holiness and love for others.

John the Baptist was the last prophet of the Old Testament period and crossed over into the New Testament period as a witness to Jesus. As a prophet, he called out political leaders, but it wasn’t for a new governmental policy or program. Rather, he called one and all to repentance. Whether it was King Herod or the guy down the street, John gained his name by baptizing for the forgiveness of sins.

This world will end one day; moreover, when we die, the end has come for us. Besides, while we have a responsibility to act in the civic-political world, we cannot have a just society if we do not have just people.

What about each one of us? How just and righteous are we? Are we not sinners? What are we willing to do to be closer to Jesus and to become more like Him?

As we begin the season of Advent, we are reminded of what truly matters in life. While we often worry about illness, financial struggles, or the loss of loved ones, the greatest tragedy would be losing our relationship with God and facing eternal separation from Him. In today’s Gospel (Lk 21:25-28, 34-36), Jesus warns of the signs of His return, urging us to stay vigilant and not let the anxieties of daily life dull our hearts. He tells us to “stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.” These words remind us that our ultimate hope is in Christ’s return, where all things will be made right.

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.