Tuesday, February 17, 2026

Cut Off Anything That Pulls You Away From God (6th Sunday of OT)

  Several years ago, there was a trend on social media where parents would place a tasty treat in front of their young children and leave the room. The child was told not to touch it until the parent returned. Of course, the whole thing was secretly recorded. You can guess what happened. Most of the kids gave in almost immediately. A few, probably the oldest, sat there in visible agony but managed to resist. The videos were funny because they were so relatable. Any parent knows that without supervision, it doesn’t take long for a child to test the boundaries.

But it’s not just children. Even adults tend to say and do things they would never do if someone were watching. Breaking the rules doesn’t seem like such a big deal if no one sees it. That’s true for all of us.

So here’s the real question: How do we see God’s law and commandments? Do we see them as wisdom and a path to freedom and joy? Or do we secretly consider them restrictive and standing in the way of happiness?

If we’re honest, sometimes we’re like those children staring at the treat. We don’t necessarily love the rule…we just don’t want to get caught. If there were no consequences, what would we ignore? Isn’t there a part of us that obeys more out of fear than love?

Today’s scriptures remind us that God’s law is not just about external behavior. It’s about the heart. The commandments are not a checklist to keep God off our back. They are keys to fostering a rich relationship with God and others.

With that in mind, Jesus takes the commandments and deepens them. It’s not enough to avoid murder; we must confront anger. It’s not enough to avoid adultery; we must purify our desires. He’s not just forming rule-followers. He’s forming hearts that love like the Father.

Many of us feel comfortable because we haven’t committed serious sins. But sometimes we simply lacked the opportunity…or the nerve. Jesus asks for more: not just resisting harmful actions, but allowing him to cleanse the desires that lead to them. That requires trust. It changes our motivation. We move from fear of punishment to love of relationship. We keep the commandments because we want to remain close to the One who loves us.

Those social media videos were amusing, but the setup was unfair. Why put a child where disobedience is so easy? Jesus gives unforgettable advice about avoiding the occasions of sin for ourselves and others. If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. He’s not speaking literally but he is dead serious. Be decisive about removing what leads you into sin.

After nearly 20 years of ministry, I can point to one urgent area where this matters: our use of technology, especially where it affects our children. The internet is not going away. Technology is woven into daily life. The question for most of us is not whether we use it, but how.

For adults, “cutting off” temptation will require removing apps, installing accountability tools, or setting firm limits. For some, it means confronting habits like impulse shopping, constant scrolling, or private online behaviors that slowly erode the soul.

The stakes get even higher when it comes to our children. They are not just using technology. Many are being formed by it. Kids today face levels of stimulation and pressure previous generations never encountered. They battle screen addiction before their brains are fully developed. They measure themselves against impossible standards of beauty, success, and popularity. And unlike past generations, the temptation and comparison never turns off. It follows them into their bedrooms and is rarely out of sight. Online bullying doesn’t end when the school day is over. It continues through messages, comments, and exclusion. A child can feel attacked and alone while sitting in what should be the safest place in the world: their own home.

This is the hard truth: many adults struggle to manage their own screen habits. If this environment overwhelms adults, how can we expect children to stand firm on their own? They are in an unfair fight. We would never place a child in obvious physical danger and say, “Be safe.” Yet sometimes we hand them unrestricted internet access and hope they’ll manage. A child’s innocence and safety are things too precious to leave in their hands alone…we all must help protect them! 

This is where Jesus’ words become practical. If something causes you to sin, cut it off. For families, that may mean no smartphones until a certain age, phones kept in shared spaces, content filters, shared passwords, and honest conversations. It may mean being the “strict” parent. But love is willing to be misunderstood in order to protect.

Our children do not need unlimited access. They need guidance and boundaries. They need adults strong enough to say, “This is not good for you.” Algorithms are designed to capture attention and mine information…NOT to nurture faith or protect innocence. Entire industries profit from a child’s insecurity and curiosity. As Christians, we cannot be passive about that.

I want to emphasize that this homily is not about fear and wearing foil hats to ward off big, bad technology. This teaching is about stewardship. God entrusted your children to you…not to the internet, influencers, or corporations. And there is hope. When families take intentional steps like limiting screen time, encouraging real friendships, prioritizing shared meals, protecting Sundays, and fostering prayer…children flourish. Their anxiety decreases. Their identity becomes rooted in something deeper than likes and followers.

We are called to defend those who cannot yet defend themselves. That may require sacrifice and even conflict. But nothing is more important than their souls which will live forever. The world may call it extreme. Jesus calls it love and he paid the ultimate price to win each of us back to the Father.

We aren’t in this fight alone. We have a God who sees perfectly and loves perfectly. His commandments are not restrictions meant to suffocate us. They are guardrails meant to protect us, especially the young. 

“Blessed are they who follow the law of the Lord” the psalm says today. May we be among the blessed; not only by keeping the commandments ourselves, but by courageously helping our children do the same. Because their freedom, their peace, and their eternal life are worth every sacrifice.

Monday, February 9, 2026

Salt and Light (5th Sunday, Year A)

  This past week I was blessed to spend a few days hiking in Utah, exploring two national parks I hadn’t visited before: Canyonlands and Arches. One of those days, a priest-friend and I hiked in the remote Needles section of Canyonlands, a magnificent ten-mile journey through an otherworldly landscape of towering sandstone formations. Every turn revealed a new view, somehow better than the last, as we wandered through winding canyons and narrow rock passages.

Every so often we had to stop…not because we were tired, but because we needed to take it all in. The views stretched for miles, vast and overwhelming in their beauty. What struck me just as much was the silence. This time of year the parks are nearly empty. On our final day of hiking, we saw fewer than a dozen people the entire day. The silence was so deep it almost hurt your ears.

Standing there, surrounded by that raw beauty, I found myself saying out loud more than once, “God, you are good. Your work is beautiful!” I don’t know how you could have any other response when something like that is laid out before you. Creation practically demands your attention and it points to something beyond itself, to the One who designed and made it!

But nature isn’t the only thing that teaches us about God.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells us that we are the light of the world and the salt of the earth. People should be able to look at us…how we live, how we speak, how we treat others…and learn something true, something good, something beautiful about who God is. Our lives are meant to point beyond themselves, the same way creation does.

Fortunately, we already know how to do this. We proclaim what matters to us all the time. We wear clothing with the logos of our favorite teams, brands, or slogans that say something about who we are. Our cars have decals from places we’ve traveled, stick figures or illustrations of our families, causes we support, and even politicians we believe in. Without saying a word, our lives constantly communicate what we value, what we love, and what we stand for.

Jesus is saying that faith should be no different.

That’s why the second reading from St. Paul fits so beautifully with today’s Gospel. Writing to the Corinthians, Paul reminds them that when he first came to them, he didn’t rely on clever arguments, polished speeches, or sophisticated philosophy. This was significant because Corinth loved all of those things.

But Paul says, “I did not come with sublimity of words or of wisdom.” Instead, he came with a “demonstration of Spirit and power.” In other words, he let God do the convincing through the consistent and natural actions of his daily life and presence with the people of that city. The Gospel spread not because Paul was impressive, but because God was present and clear to see in the words and actions of St. Paul…changing hearts, healing lives, performing works that made God impossible to ignore.

And here’s the key connection: for most people today, their first real encounter with God won’t be through a theology book, a catechism, or even the Bible. It will be through a Christian. Through someone they know. Someone they work with. Someone in their family. Jesus knows this. That’s why He says that people should see our good deeds and give glory not to us, but to our heavenly Father.

This calling isn’t reserved for priests, religious sisters, or scholars. God truly wants (and expects) every baptized person to use their life, their relationships, and their daily experiences as a way of making Him known, loved, and adored. That’s an incredible responsibility… and a sign of remarkable trust.

So Jesus says plainly: you are salt. You are light. And this calling can’t be ignored. Either our lives reveal something of God’s goodness, beauty, and truth…or we hide it. Salt that loses its flavor and light that’s hidden away quickly lose their purpose. As Jesus warns, they become good for nothing.

“Just so,” He says, “your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

The question, then, is whether we’ve first allowed ourselves to encounter the beauty, goodness, and truth of God. We can’t teach something we don’t know or believe. For me, that encounter has come many times through the splendor of nature and through the goodness of friends and family. For others, it may come through the birth of a child, caring for a loved one, forming a family, or recognizing God’s quiet wisdom in a decisive moment.

Once we’ve encountered God ourselves, we’re called, like Paul, to let our lives speak. God could have chosen another way, …….but He didn’t. He chose to rely on you and me to teach others about Him. He trusts that our words, our patience, our forgiveness, and our love might become a “demonstration of Spirit and power” for someone else.

So the final question this weekend is simple but challenging: What is your life teaching right now? Who is it revealing?

Someone is counting on us to learn about God’s goodness, truth, and beauty.Are we being salt?Are we being light?


Sunday, February 1, 2026

Cheering for the Underdog (4th Sunday, Year A)

  Each year, around this time, people tend to talk about the Super Bowl. Who’s going to win. Who has the better quarterback. Who’s hosting the party. And of course, who we’re cheering for. Usually that’s not too hard, because most years there is a team with a great story or who no one thought would be there. People tend to cheer for the underdog. The long shot. The cinderella story. But this year, it’s a little different. Both teams are strong. Both are successful with 14 wins. Both have been there before. No real underdog…which, at least for me, makes it harder to care who wins. And that got me thinking: why do we usually root for the underdog in the first place?

In the ancient world, people didn’t generally think that way. In Jesus’ time, and long before him, strength and success were everything. The powerful were admired. The wealthy were respected. The winners were celebrated. The poor were often invisible. The lowly were expected to stay in their place. And that’s why the readings today are so striking…because every one of them pushes back against that way of thinking.

In the first reading, the prophet Zephaniah speaks to a people who feel small, defeated, and discouraged. And he says: “Seek the Lord, you humble of the earth… a people humble and lowly.” Not the powerful. Not the elite. God’s hope will rise from those who have learned to depend on Him. Then in the second reading, St. Paul reminds the Corinthians (and us) to take an honest look around. “Consider your own calling,” he says. Not many of you were wise. Not many were powerful. Not many were of noble birth. In other words: God didn’t build the Church with all-stars. He built it with ordinary people. People who knew their need for God. Because, St Paul says, God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, so that no one might boast except in the Lord.

And then we come to the Gospel. Jesus begins his public ministry and his very first sermon with blessings instead of commandments. “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” “Blessed are the meek.” “Blessed are those who mourn.” “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.” Jesus looks out at a crowd filled with people who feel small and insignificant and he tells them they matter. Not later. Not if they succeed. Not if they climb higher. But even now.

That’s important, because the Beatitudes are not instructions. Jesus isn’t saying, “Go out and try to be poor or sad.” He’s saying that when life places us there…when we are humbled, struggling, grieving, uncertain…God is not far away. In fact, He is closer than ever. The world keeps its own list of champions: the successful, the impressive, the people who seem to have it all together. But Scripture today makes it very clear: God keeps a different list.

And that raises a question we probably don’t ask ourselves very often. Which list are we trying to get onto? Where would we rather be found? In the world’s circle of champions… or on the Lord’s list of the blessed? Because the two lists rarely look the same. One is built on achievement and domination. The other on trust and service. One on strength. The other on dependence. One on achieving 1st place. The other on letting God lead.

Most of us spend our lives trying not to look weak. We don’t like admitting we need help. We don’t like being vulnerable. We don’t like feeling small. And yet, Scripture keeps telling us that those very places…the ones we try to avoid… are often where God does His best work. Not because weakness is good in itself, but because it makes room for grace. So as we prepare to watch a game full of champions next week, the Gospel invites us to ask a deeper question: what kind of life are we really striving for? Are we trying to be impressive… or faithful? Are we chasing recognition… or trust? Because in God’s kingdom, the scoreboard is different. And the ones Jesus calls “blessed” are often the very people the world would never think to cheer for. “Blessed are they,” he says. When he looks at us and our life, will he find us on his list?