You Are the Salt. You Are the Light.

Readings 060926

I promised God I would go wherever He leads me.
Most days that promise feels light.
Some days it feels heavy.
And this weekend, it felt like both.

Corpus Christi.
First Communion.
A Baptism.
Preaching.
And our pastor still stranded in Africa.
The work was full, and so was my fatigue.

By Sunday afternoon, I thought I’d rest.
Just a nap.
Just a moment.
But at four o’clock the phone rang:
“Deacon, where are you?
We are waiting for you to bring us the Body of Christ.”

And there it was—
on the Feast of the Body and Blood of the Lord—
my own body tired, my own spirit dull,
my own salt losing its taste.

But Jesus never said,
“Try to be salt… try to be light.”
He said:
“You are the salt… you are the light.”

Salt preserves.
Salt purifies.
Salt awakens flavor.
And when Jesus names us salt,
He is naming our identity—
the deep truth of who we are in Him.

Light does not try to shine.
Light shines because of what it is.
To be united to Christ
is to share in His radiance—
a light that flows from being,
not from effort.

So when the nursing home called,
it wasn’t a summons to duty.
It was a reminder of identity.
A reminder that discipleship is not performance.
It is union with Christ—
a transformed way of being
that lets His life shine through our tired bones.

And so I rose.
Still weary.
Still human.
But carried by grace.
And I brought the Body of Christ
to the Body of Christ.

And in that moment,
the salt found its taste.
The light found its flame.
And Christ, who called me,
was the One who carried me.

Prayer

Lord Jesus,
Let Your life restore my salt and steady my light.
When I am tired, be my strength.
When I am dull, be my flame.
Make my being a quiet witness to Your love.
And let all I do lead hearts back to the Father. Amen.

God Who Is, and We Who Receive

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God speaks to us in so many ways—
through nature, through art, through Scripture, through prayer,
through the quiet turns and bruised places of our lives .
But most of the time,
we get in the way of hearing His voice.
We hurry.
We fill the silence.
We forget to receive.

And this is where the deeper meaning begins.
Our awakening to God is ontological—
a matter of being, not doing.
God is not simply the Giver of things.
God is the Source of Being itself.
And the human person, before anything else,
is a receiver of that Being.

This is why trust matters.
For the Lord Himself sustains, guards, and blesses
those who entrust their lives to Him—
even when trust leads through scarcity,
through vulnerability,
or through the hidden persecutions of daily life.
God is not distant.
God is not asleep.
God is not defeated.
He provides, He protects, He purifies,
and He promises a joy the world cannot take.

And so the Beatitudes come to us
not as moral slogans,
but as the ontology of the Kingdom—
a revelation of what a human being becomes
when fully aligned with God.

So today,
let us step out of our own way.
Let us receive before we act.
Let us listen before we speak.
And let our very being
rest in the God who is always speaking.

Prayer 

Lord, 

You are the Source of all being.
You speak beneath every moment.
Teach my heart to receive before I act.
Clear the noise that clouds Your nearness.
Shape me in the truth of the Beatitudes.
Hold my life in Your sustaining love.

Amen

It Is Real

  Readings 060726  

I remember a boy who asked his priest,
“Father, when you say the words at the altar…
how does the bread become Jesus?”

The priest smiled,
“That’s a holy mystery.”

The boy frowned,
“Every time grown‑ups don’t know something,
they call it a mystery.”

But his grandmother whispered,
“Sweetheart, really smart grown‑ups
know when to stop pretending
we’re smarter than God.”

And the priest said,
“That’s why we kneel.”

Today we kneel before the greatest gift Christ left us—
His Real Presence.
Not a symbol.
Not a reminder.
Not a metaphor.

It is real.
It is Jesus.
And He comes for you.

The same God who fed Israel with manna
now feeds us with Himself.
The One who said,
“This is My Body… This is My Blood,”
keeps His word.

When you receive Him,
He strengthens you,
changes you,
and makes you part of His Body—
a family of faith,
a people of hope,
a community of love.

So come to the altar with wonder.
Come with joy.
Come knowing:

It is real.
It is Jesus.
And He comes for you.

Prayer

Lord Jesus,
You give Yourself to us in the Real Presence.
Open our hearts to adore You with wonder.
Strengthen our faith in Your living Body and Blood.
Make us worthy to receive so great a gift.
Remain with us always. 

Amen.

Our Ultimate Concern

 

Readings 060626

Every day we pour out our life‑energy.
We spend our hours, our strength, our attention
on something.
And sooner or later, every soul must face
the deeper question beneath all the others:
What is my ultimate concern—
not only what I live for,
but what I would die for.

Saint Paul knew his answer.
He could stand before God and say,
“I am already being poured out like a libation…
I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.”
His whole life flowed toward Christ,
and even his death became an offering.

And Jesus points us to the poor widow—
a woman with almost nothing
who gave everything.
Not because she had surplus,
but because she had a center.
A guiding star.
An ultimate concern that shaped her whole life.

So maybe we should pause
and consider our own ultimate concern.

Do I proclaim the word
not only with my voice
but with the way I spend my days—
my energy, my love, my sacrifice.
Do the choices I make
reveal the One my heart belongs to.

Because in the end,
our lives are measured not by what we kept,
but by what we gave.
Not by what we achieved,
but by whom we loved.
Not by what we lived for,
but by the One for whom we would die.

Prayer

Lord Jesus,
Teach my heart to pour itself out for You.
Set my days toward Your guiding star of love.
Let my sacrifices echo a quiet courage of faith.
That is steady through every race I run.
Receive my life as a humble offering of praise.

Amen.

The Word Wants to Become Flesh in Us

 Readings 060526 

Some people treat the Bible 

like a trophy on a shelf.
Some cling to one book, 

 one writer, 

 one verse—
even if it means 

 ignoring the very voice of Jesus.

But Scripture was never meant 

 to be worshiped.
It was meant to be 

 Embodied.

Paul tells Timothy,
“You have followed my teaching, 

 my way of life, my faith, 

 my endurance…”
 

Because the Gospel 

 is not just information.
It is a life handed on.
A way lived in the body.
A truth learned through witness, 

 suffering, 

 patience, 

 love.

He says,
“Remain faithful 

  to what you have learned,
because you know from whom 

you learned it.”

Knowledge in our faith 

 is never just ideas on a page.
It is relationship.
It is encounter.
It is the Word taking flesh in us.

All Scripture is inspired—
yes, breathed by God—
but its purpose is not to sit in our hands.
Its purpose is to shape our steps,
correct our course,
and lead us to salvation in Christ.

The Bible is a book.
Jesus is the Word.
And the Word wants to become flesh 

 in your life today.

So let us ask for the grace
to read Scripture 

 not as collectors of verses,
but as disciples 

 who let the Word
move our bodies,
shape our choices,
and form our hearts
into the living Gospel 

the world is waiting to see.

Prayer 

Lord Jesus,
Let Your Word settle into my bones
and shape the way I walk.
Let the Scriptures I cherish
become the life I live.

Breathe Your wisdom 

 into my choices,
and make my whole body 

 a witness to Your love.

Amen

Turning Back With Our Whole Being

Readings 060426 

My friends,
we are embodied creatures—
souls living in flesh,
walking through a world that presses on us
from every side.

And sometimes…
our very embodiment becomes the place
where distraction begins.
The body hungers.
The mind wanders.
The heart chases comfort.
And slowly, quietly,
we drift from the God who made us.

We breathe the air of our culture,
and it whispers that we are the center.
It tells us to love ourselves first,
to bless whatever we desire,
to call everything good
so nothing must be surrendered.

And in that drift,
we forget the first commandment—
the commandment that orders every heartbeat:

“You shall love the Lord your God
with all your heart,
all your soul,
all your mind,
and all your strength.”

But hear this good news:
the Word of God is not chained.
Not by culture.
Not by weakness.
Not by our wandering.

Even when our embodied lives pull us away,
Christ remains faithful—
for He cannot deny Himself.

So today,
in this body,
in this moment,
let us turn again toward the One
who dwells with us,
who calls us home,
who loves us first
so we may love Him with our whole being.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, meet me in this body You formed.
Quiet the hungers that pull my heart away.
Gather my wandering thoughts into Your peace.
Teach me to love You first, above all things.
Break the soft chains my culture tries to place on me.
Hold me steady in Your faithful mercy.
Make my whole being a place where You are loved. Amen