Ordinary Time

If we have the presence of God within us, if we bring the presence of God to every situation we encounter, if we're filled with the presence of God so much so that we don't think of ourselves — that's humility. Humility is not thinking less of myself; it's thinking of myself less. It's being filled with the presence of God, so that that presence of God might overflow into every situation that I encounter. And in this world of polarization, as Christians we are called to practice the presence of God: to bring the presence of God with love and understanding to every disagreement and to every situation.
 
The book Fr. Dominic refers to in his homily is The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection.
 
Readings at this Mass: Zep 2:3; 3:12–13 | 1 Cor 1:26–31 | Mt 5:1–12a

When we allow God to work on us — when we shift the focus from "what do I want God to do in my life/this person's life" to "what does God want to do in my life" — there’s a whole different energy that comes. Less fear, nagging, and anxiety; more trust, joy, acceptance, and a deep sense of peace. And for our loved ones who have no use for the Church in their lives — that’s how we ourselves become church for them, becoming instruments and images of God’s love for them.
 
Readings at this Mass: Is 8:23—9:3 | 1 Cor 1:10–13, 17 | Mt 4:12–23

Ordinary Time teaches us that holiness is not built on excitement, but on fidelity. God is not just waiting for extraordinary moments to meet us — He meets us in the quiet faithfulness of daily life. And when our restless hearts finally rest in Him, we discover something surprising: the ordinary is no longer boring. It is sacred. It is where joy takes root.
 
Readings at this Mass: Is 49:3, 5–6 | 1 Cor 1:1–3 | Jn 1:29–34

What are you thankful for? That’s the question Fr. Bill asks of our Thanksgiving Day Mass attendees, reminding us that we are called to be people of thanksgiving — the word eucharist itself comes from the Greek word for 'thanksgiving'. Consider what you are thankful for as you listen to their responses!
 
Readings at this Mass: Sir 50:22-24 | 1 Cor 1:3-9 | Lk 17:11-19

More and more, it’s becoming impossible for us to talk about our challenges as a country. It doesn’t matter if the issue is cultural, moral, economic, political, whatever — the conversation quickly gravitates towards the extremes. So our problems remain, our divisions deepen, and we don’t go anywhere as a people. Politics is not king. Tribalism is not king. Anger and fear, hatred and shame, cruelty and violence — they’re not king, either. Jesus is king. At least in our lives, it’s time we restore Him to the throne.
 
Readings at this Mass: 2 Sm 5:1–3, Col 1:12–20, Lk 23:35–43 

There is no resurrection without the cross. The trials and losses we experience – our own mini "end-times" – can become the very means by which our lives are transformed, take on deeper meaning, and prepare us to meet Christ in heaven. Consider a loss or painful trial, past or present, and bring it to Jesus in prayer, asking, "Lord, how have you used/how are you using this trial in my life to deepen my faith and prepare me for heaven?" Then, being open to God's grace, watch how He moves you.
 
Readings at this Mass:  Mal 3:19-20a | 2 Thes 3:7-12 | Lk 21:5-19 

Each of us is a temple of God, a dwelling place for the Spirit. So perhaps the Gospel is inviting us to something deeper: maybe Jesus wants to help us clean out our own temple. We can’t do it alone. We need Jesus to help drive out the money changers: those fears, distractions, and habits that fill our lives with noise and confusion. If we let Him, He’ll cleanse our hearts so that what flows out of us is no longer muck, but clear, living water.
 
Readings at this Mass: Ez 47:1–2, 8–9, 12 | 1 Cor 3:9c–11, 16–17 | Jn 2:13–22

Purgatory is the purification, the liberation, the healing that we still need — even after death — to prepare us for the immense, tremendous life that God has in store for us in Heaven. Purgatory is very different than Hell; it’s not “Hell Lite.” It’s got nothing to do with condemnation, fear, or punishment. It’s about a Father who loves us so much that even after death, He refuses to give up on us and leave us incomplete, too weak to stand in the dazzling light of His presence.
 
Readings at this Mass: Wis 3:1–9 | Rom 5:5–11 | Jn 6:37–40