Archive for the ‘Jesus Christ’ Category

Sent Into The Wind

August 8, 2026

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.” Jesus “made” the apostles get into the boat and depart. In the Greek, Jesus “made them / compelled them / constrained them” to go. Why were they so reluctant to leave? It could simply be that they did not want to be apart from Jesus, but there may be another reason for their hesitation.

Peter, Andrew, James, and John were experienced fishermen who had worked many nights on those Sea of Galilee waters. Jesus was asking them to sail a few miles west across the sea toward Capernaum. When they felt the evening air and looked at the western sky, perhaps they foresaw that the wind and the waves could be strong that night. Besides leaving Jesus behind, the apostles might have been reluctant to be out on the water. Nevertheless, he commanded and they went.

After doing so, [Jesus] went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile the boat, already a considerable distance offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it.

When I visited Israel ten years ago this fall, it was great to gain a truer sense of sites I had read about in Scripture, like the compactness of the Old City of Jerusalem or the relative smallness of the Sea of Galilee. When you envision “the Sea of Galilee,” perhaps you imagine the view across an ocean or one of our Great Lakes where the opposite shores are out of sight beyond the horizon. But in comparison to them, the Sea of Galilee is tiny. Even Wisconsin’s Lake Winnebago is 30 miles in length while the Sea of Galilee, north to south, is just 13 miles. When you stand on its rocky shores you can see the various low mountains surrounding it. Sitting on one of those hillsides a person could watch a boat as it sailed across the sea to the opposite shore.

Jesus was praying alone on a mountainside. The apostles did not see Jesus with them but he was watching them and prayed for them as they were tossed about by waves and sailed against the wind. Likewise, even when we are struggling in the dark, Jesus sees us and intercedes for us.

During the fourth watch of the night, [between 3 and 6 AM,] Jesus came toward them walking on the sea. When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. ‘It is a ghost,’ they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, ‘Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.’”

In the Gospels, Jesus arguably says variations of “Fear not / Be not afraid” more frequently than he says anything else. And notice how that is not merely his suggestion; it’s a command. Jesus does not want fears preventing us from having peace and doing his will. Peter acted boldly, at least at first. He asked and was invited to walk with Jesus on the water. “But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus immediately stretched out his hand and caught Peter, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ After [Peter and Jesus] got into the boat, the wind died down.

Now here is what struck me most when I read this story this time around. Jesus did not have to send his disciples out across that chaotic sea; he chose to. And as he watched them struggle against the wind and waves, Jesus could have commanded the forces of nature to be still as he did on another occasion with the sea; but this time he chose not to. Jesus is able to walk on water and he welcomes Peter to join him, giving his disciple an opportunity to exercise his trust and virtues. When Peter falters, Jesus pulls him up, and once they reboard the boat together, the wind dies down; for it had served its providential purpose.

Jesus Christ’s will for us in this life is not endless ease. Rather, he desires our greatness. For that purpose, he sends us and calls us to places we might not wish to go; permitting challenges for our greater good and glory. Truly, as his disciples said, Jesus Christ is the Son of God. He sees us, he’s almighty, and he loves us. So why ever be afraid?

Mourning With Jesus

August 1, 2026

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

He was persecuted for preaching the truth. Though he had done nothing wrong, he was hated. They arrested and imprisoned this righteous and holy man, and when questioned, his answers would confound the questioner. The secular ruler was reluctant to put this man to death, but in the end, bowing to social pressure, he ordered his unjust execution. After his death, his disciples took their teacher’s body, laid it in a tomb, and mourned him. This death, this murder, this martyrdom of St. John the Baptist was mourned by Jesus too.

Recall that John the Baptist was Jesus’ relative and friend. In John’s Passion and death, Jesus could see a foreshadowing of his own. Jesus weeps at the tomb of Lazarus, but Lazarus died from a natural illness and was resurrected soon after. John the Baptist’s death was caused by the wicked, the direct result of chosen sins. And Jesus mourned him realizing he would never see John again in this life.

When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their towns.” When Jesus arrived, “disembarked, and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.” Then Jesus fed them all using five loaves of bread and two fish; the only miracle (besides his Resurrection) which is recorded by all four Gospels. Then Jesus “made the disciples get into the boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. Then [Jesus] went up on the mountain by himself to pray, [and] when it was evening, he was there by himself.

Jesus and his disciples experienced times of mourning. We and our loved ones will experience times of mourning, too. In today’s Gospel, Jesus Christ, our model for our Christian life, provides us lessons for such seasons.

First, Jesus took time to mourn and it was not selfish for him to do so. He withdrew to mourn and spend time alone, but in that solitude he prayed. Many psalms and Old Testament scenes have God’s faithful voicing their painful laments to God. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, even though he was divine, prayed to God as man. He did this for personal consolation and that others would be helped. Remember to pray for the souls of the departed and feel free to speak to them, for I am convinced that not even death can entirely separate those who are in Christ.

When Jesus arrived at that desolate place and found the large crowd, his heart was moved with pity. Without suggesting any fault in Jesus, sometimes our sufferings can make us more sensitive to the sufferings of others. Jesus does not close in on himself. He goes outside himself to serve others. How do you think it felt for Jesus to help so many (perhaps while experiencing feelings of such powerlessness)? It was a consolation to him. Going out beyond ourselves can help in healing a mournful heart.

Sometimes when we know someone is mourning, we give them so much respectful space they end up being treated like lepers. The crowds (whether conscious of Jesus’ burdens or not) approached him like before and those encounters blessed them both. So do not be afraid to ask them a favor, offer an invite, or give them a gift; since we see such things can help them. And if they decline, don’t take it personally. Jesus’ friends brought him a meal of five loaves and two fish, and doing that did a world of good.

Jesus experienced times of mourning and we will too. Take time to mourn in solitude but keep close company with God in prayer and pray for the departed. Do not simply close in on yourself but go beyond yourself for others. And approach those who are mourning to offer healthy encounters and opportunities. It pained Jesus to be so tragically separated from his dear one, John, but Christ promises God’s people who mourn will be comforted. And these trials make us more like Jesus Christ, who consoles others. As St. Paul told the Corinthians: “[God] comforts us in all of our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” Jesus mourned like us. Let us mourn like him.

Loving Jesus Is Rewarded

June 27, 2026

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

An Army private gets called in by his commanding officer for reportedly sleeping while on duty at his guard post:
But sir, I wasn’t sleeping, honest—I was just keeping my eyes closed!
Private, it’s your solemn duty not to let anyone to get past you!
Yes sir, I keep my eyes closed so that nobody can bribe me!

In today’s Gospel, Jesus presents two lessons back-to-back; lest, understanding only half of his message, we would reach a dangerous conclusion like that Army private. First, Jesus insists that we must keep him as our top priority. We must be even more devoted to Jesus Christ than to our parents, or to our children, or to our own personal comfort.

Jesus tells his apostles: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” In fact, it is only by first and foremost loving our Lord that we can have the wisdom and grace to love our family, our friends, and ourselves as each deserves. Whoever seeks goals apart from the Lord will lose them along with this life, but whoever seeks the Lord’s goals will gain from them along with eternal life. As Jesus says, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” This passage marks Jesus’ transition to his second major lesson in this Gospel: that deeds done in his service will be richly rewarded.

Jesus says, “Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me. Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward. And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because the little one is a disciple amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” The things we do for Jesus, especially for him veiled within our neighbor, will surely be rewarded.

So Jesus presents to us with two important lessons, side-by-side. If we only heard that Jesus expects be our top priority, we might despair, thinking he is practically impossible to please. And if we only heard that Jesus rewards good deeds, we might become presumptuous, thinking God can be bribed or bought off by occasional gestures without true devotion. Rather, we should hold Jesus as our dear Lord while remembering that he will richly reward even the smallest things we do for him.

The young St. Therese of Lisieux, “The Little Flower,” dedicated herself to doing even little things for Jesus with great love. She called this her “Little Way” to holiness. In her highly-recommended autobiography “Story of a Soul” she writes: “Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.” “You know well enough that our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we do them.” “Without love, deeds, even the most brilliant, count as nothing.” “To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul.” So we should not close our eyes to our solemn duty to Jesus, for if we love and serve him even in small ways we shall see his great rewards.

Fear Not

June 21, 2026

12th Sunday of Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

A string walks into a bar and the bartender says to the string, “Hey buddy, look at the sign!” The sign says: “NO STRINGS.” So the string steps outside, loops itself around, tightens itself up, messes up its hair, and goes back inside the bar. The bartender says, “Hey, aren’t you that string?” It replies, “No, I’m a frayed knot.” That was a joke referencing persecution, hair, and fearing not. My philosophy on homily jokes is that they should always tie in.

Jesus tells us three times in today’s Gospel to not be afraid. He says, “Fear no one. … Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. … Do not be afraid.” Jesus insists we need not fear because God knows and loves and cares about us. Jesus notes: “Even all the hairs of your head are counted.” Why does he cite hair as an example? Perhaps it is because your hairs are the most numerous, the most replaceable, and the most painlessly disposable parts of you. Yet God keeps tabs even on that about you. Nothing about you is being overlooked.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus also notes God’s attentive care for birds. Earlier Jesus had said: “Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they?” As the inspired 84th Psalm observes: “The sparrow herself finds a home and the swallow a nest for her brood; she lays her young by your (temple) altars, Lord of hosts, my king and my God. They are happy who dwell in your house, forever singing your praise.” So God feeds and shelters the birds and offered them the opportunity to live in his presence and praise him. He offers the same to us.

Jesus asks, “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge.” What is this about sparrows “falling” to the ground? By “fall” Jesus may be referring in the Greek to birds simply “landing” or “descending,” but I have also seen dead birds fallen on the ground. Last week for the first time, on the shoulder of the highway, I saw a black crow standing beside a dead crow on the ground, presumably where it had fallen after being hit by a passing vehicle. About the sparrows Jesus says, “Not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge.” But how can I be consoled by this when I see dead birds on the ground?

Yes, like Jesus and Job, Christians may suffer through no fault of their own. Like Jesus with his kinsman St. John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary with her Son, Christians may experience the tragic loss of a dear one. Like Jesus and his Apostles, we may suffer and be put to death for our faithfulness to God. But Jesus repeatedly urges us to not be afraid since our deliverance and glory shall be like his. “So do not be afraid,” Jesus encourages us, “you are worth more than many sparrows.”

Jesus also wants us to be open and bold about our Catholic Faith: “What I say to you in the darkness, speak in the light; what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul…” In America today, you and I are not even facing deadly persecution, so what is our excuse for timidity? Like I said last Sunday, be an unashamed and faithful Catholic in everyday life. Answer people’s questions and invite them to explore our Faith. Be bold, for their souls may depend upon it.

Instead of fearing the judgment of peers, Jesus wants our concern to be what God thinks of us. “Be afraid, rather, of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna,” that is, our Divine Judge. Jesus assures us, “Everyone who acknowledges me before others, I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father. But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.” So if we have been cowardly Christians in the past, repent and resolve like St. Peter to bear better witness to your relationship with Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior in the future.

St. Paul teaches, “Have no anxiety at all.” Worry is worthless, concern is enough. If I were not concerned about this homily, I would have had nothing prepared. If I were not concerned about this Mass, I would not have shown up to celebrate it. But feeding worries about these things would have been for me a waste of time and energy. As St. Padre Pio often said, “Pray, hope, and don’t worry!” It comes down to this: will you trust Jesus Christ? Remember his words and his rewards and fear not.

I Will See You Again — Funeral Homily for Stanley Lang, 19

May 28, 2026

By Fr. Victor Feltes

The evening before Jesus died, John’s Gospel recounts him saying at the Last Supper: “I am going to the one who sent me… But because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts.” Jesus’ disciples, his loved ones, his friends, were understandably concerned and sad to hear of his departure. But Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me.” Jesus tells them again, “Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. You heard me tell you, ‘I am going away and I will come back to you.’ … And now I have told you this before it happens, so that when it happens you may believe.

The next day, they were traumatized by his Passion and death. Luke’s Gospel records that “all [of Jesus’] acquaintances stood at a distance… and saw these events.” And they were witnesses to his burial. Perhaps at first, on Good Friday evening, Jesus’ dear ones were too stunned to feel anything but numb. But then, on Holy Saturday, the reality of what had happened probably settled in. They mourned losing him and were left to ask “Why? How could God let an innocent young man die like this? How is that not a senseless and pointless death?” That might be how we feel today on this day of Stanley’s funeral.

Stanley’s parents tell me he valued the Holy Scriptures, attending a Bible study in high school. He probed the things of God, asking his folks tough religious questions — not looking for excuses but to better understand our Faith. Devoted to worshiping God, he expressed disappointment rather than delight on those rare occasions when circumstances kept his family from attending Sunday Mass. And he desired fellowship with God’s saints, departing from us wearing a St. Francis of Assisi medal around his neck. Why would God allow his beloved friend to die so young?

Reflecting upon Jesus’ Passion and death, we wonder at the mystery of how an innocent 33-year-old being whipped, crucified, and murdered achieves the forgiveness of our sins. Yet it is revealed to us that through patiently endured trials — trials a person would prefer to avoid like a cup of soured wine — God’s holy ones are exalted and our world is saved.

Consider the patron saint of this parish, St. Paul. St. Paul the Apostle is not our Savior and Lord, yet Jesus Christ involves him in his saving work. Because Paul was willing to preach, new peoples were reached. Because Paul bore great sufferings, Christ’s salvation came to others. As Paul wrote to the Colossians: “I now rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the Church…” By faithfully enduring and dying how and when he did, he entered into heaven’s greater glory.

In the words of the Book of Wisdom: “If before men, indeed [God’s own seem] punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. [And] they shall shine…” Our faithful sufferings, our prayers and penances, our labors, losses and dyings, when mystically united to Christ’s, transform us and help save others. This is called redemptive suffering, and while not yet answering every “why,” it changes how Christians see our pains and tragedies in life.

Jesus Christ came to the aid of humanity with his divinity, fashioning for us a remedy out of mortality itself, that the cause of our downfall might become the means of our salvation. As he told his disciples the night before he died, “So you also are now in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.” Though Jesus’ disciples mourned and questioned on Holy Saturday, a brief time later, with Easter’s resurrection, they joyfully saw their beloved one again. This is our Christian faith and our consoling hope and Jesus Christ’s promise regarding Stanley too.

Comfort To My People — Funeral Homily for Deon Zwiefelhofer, 61

May 22, 2026

By Fr. Victor Feltes

Isaiah the Prophet proclaimed: “‘Comfort, give comfort to my people,’ says your God.” In light of Deon’s passing, on this day of her funeral, may my words give you comfort. With the coming of Pentecost Sunday, we recall how Jesus assured us: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate [or “Comforter”] to be with you always… You know him (the Holy Spirit), because he remains with you and will be in you.”

How do we know the Holy Spirit is with us? One sign of this St. Paul gives to the Corinthians is how “no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit.” Another sign of the Holy Spirit’s presence is how he moves us to cry out to God the Father like Jesus did. St. Paul tells the Galatians: “As proof that you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, ‘Abba, Father!’” And St. Paul tells the Romans: “You received a Spirit of adoption through whom we cry, ‘Abba, Father!’ The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if only we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.” St. John confirms in his first New Testament letter that we have become the children of God, writing: “See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.”

Jesus came to earth as man so that we could enjoy his eternal life and become more like him. St. Matthew describes how before preaching his Sermon on the Mount, “when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him.” This is not merely recording a historical detail; it foreshadows our joining Jesus on his holy mountain one day. Jesus has ascended and is now seated at the right hand of the Father, and his disciples will come to him. The Prophet Isaiah tells us that: “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will provide for all peoples. …He will destroy death forever. The Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces. On that day it will be said: ‘Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us! This is the Lord for whom we looked; let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!’”

I am told that when family would visit Deon’s home she would often send them on their way with food, usually baked goods, as a gift of her love. Likewise, when we come here to Jesus’ house he sends us forth with the gift of his most precious Food. At this and every Holy Eucharist, you can pray for Deon’s soul (to aid her in any purification) and renew your profession that Jesus is your Lord and that God is your Father. Allied with Jesus Christ and led by the Holy Spirit, we can all go up to God the Father where we will experience full consolation. Ours will be the Kingdom of Heaven and we will be comforted. We will inherit the earth as well and we will be satisfied. We will be shown mercy and we will see God. We will be the children of God and we will rejoice and be glad, for after the trials and hardships of this life our reward will be great in heaven.

Why Did Jesus Go?

May 17, 2026

Solemnity of the Ascension
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Jesus’ Ascension can feel like a bittersweet mystery. Jesus ascends with his human nature into heaven and takes his seat enthroned at the right hand of the Father. This is a wonderful event for us, but it can also feel sad. The apostles had felt that way. Jesus told them at the Last Supper, “I am going to the one who sent me… But because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts. But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go.” We might feel like St. Mary Magdalene, who rejoiced to hear and see and touch the Risen Jesus at the tomb on Easter Sunday. She did not want to ever let him go. Jesus told her, “Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father.” Why was it better that Jesus ascended?

Jesus now enjoys supreme honor and intimacy with his Father in heaven, reigning and interceding for us. But a Christian still might wonder, “Why wouldn’t it be better if Jesus had remained visibly on earth (as during his public ministry)?” Imagine Jesus leading his Church and various nations today as our visible high priest and king whom we could see and hear directly. Some might argue that Jesus on earth was limited by his humanity, saying, “His human nature allowed him to only be one place at a time, like Capernaum or Jerusalem, but not both places simultaneously. So maybe reigning from heaven allows Jesus to be more present to every person and place.” But is the Risen Jesus’ glorified humanity actually limited in this way?

A number of Catholic saints have reportedly manifested the gift and miracle of bilocation during their earthly lifetimes. There are stories of St. Anthony of Padua, St. Martin de Porres, St. Alphonsus Liguori, St. John Bosco, St. Padre Pio, and others being physically present at one location while also being present or manifesting at another. Contemporaneous evidence and sworn testimony indicate that in the 1620s a cloistered Catholic nun named Venerable Mary of Agreda was teaching the Faith to American Indians in what is today eastern New Mexico and western Texas without ever leaving her convent in Spain. So if Christ’s earthly servants can be more than one place at once, then Christ the God-Man should be able to do this all the more. Besides, Jesus is really present (albeit in a veiled way) in the Eucharist at Catholic Churches all around the world, so the miracle of visible multilocation does not seem beyond our Lord’s ability. Imagine Jesus ministering today as the pastor of every parish, as the teacher in every classroom, as the doctors at every hospital, and the staff members for every charity. Wouldn’t Jesus do a better job in our roles than you or me? So why doesn’t he do it?

Before his Ascension, Jesus tells his disciples, tells his Church: “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” So Jesus could do everything himself, yet he rejects that approach. Instead he gives us a mission, our Great Commission: “Go… and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” Jesus does not leave us with nothing to do, forever immature and passive. He wants us to actively share in his mission, in his joyful labors, and in his glory. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father.” Ours is a high calling and a great responsibility toward the good of souls, but Jesus does not expect us to do it alone or by our own power.

Jesus says, “I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you.” “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.” “And behold,” Jesus says, “I am with you always, until the end of the age.” Jesus has important Kingdom work for each of us: to reflect him and witness to him for others and help draw them to himself. In your life you have family and friends, coworkers and customers, neighbors and strangers, whom you interact with and may know well! Jesus would utilize you for his holy purposes, but it is important to make ourselves open and available to him. So pray to him: “Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will. Here I am, send me.” Then watch for and take up the opportunities that follow.

Our Jewish Bridegroom

May 2, 2026

5th Sunday of Easter
By Fr. Victor Feltes

First century Jews had marriage customs different than ours today. When a Jewish man wished to marry a woman, he would journey from his father’s house to hers. There he would establish a covenant by paying the agreed-upon dowry price to the father. With this payment and a shared drinking of a cup of wine, their new covenant was established. This event was called “betrothal” and the man and woman were henceforth legally husband and wife. The bridegroom, however, would not yet begin living with his bride. To manifest the purity and honorableness of his love toward her, he would return to his father’s house, typically for twelve months. During this time, the bridegroom would build-on an addition or prepare a residence at his father’s house. The bride, meanwhile, would ready her wedding garments and jewelry and practice skills for their life together.

St. Matthew’s Gospel recounts the story of Joseph and Mary’s betrothal. When “Mary was betrothed to Joseph but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her…’ When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.

When the separation time was over at the end of a Jewish betrothal, the bridegroom and his groomsmen would journey, usually at night in a torchlight procession, to where the bride lived. She would be expecting his return but would not know exactly when. That is why a friend of the bridegroom would run ahead to announce: “Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!” The bridegroom, reunited with his bride, would take her to his father’s house, to their new home together. There the couple would consummate their union and seven days of joyful wedding feasting would begin. I relate all of these details about ancient Jewish wedding customs because they provide insight into Jesus Christ’s words and works.

The Prophet Isaiah had foretold: “As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you; and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride so shall your God rejoice in you.” Through his Incarnation, Jesus descends from his Father’s house in heaven to where we live here on earth. Jesus declares and calls himself “the Bridegroom” and the New Testament subsequently calls his Church his “Bride.” St. John the Baptist was his forerunner-friend who testified, “I am not the Christ, but…I was sent before him,” adding, “The one who has the Bride is the Bridegroom; the friend of the Groom, who stands and listens to him, rejoices greatly at the Bridegroom’s voice.” Once, Jesus was asked why his disciples were not fasting. He replied, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the Bridegroom is taken away from them and then they will fast.” Christ is the Bridegroom and looking back we can see he paid dowry price for the Church his Bride on the Cross with his blood and he invites us to partake with him of his chalice.

Having established his new covenant bond with us, Jesus ascends to his Father’s house until his Second Coming, a return which his Bride the Church expects and awaits, but of which we know neither the day nor the hour. This Bridegroom symbolism is why Jesus says at the Last Supper: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.

This betrothal and consummation of the union between Christ and his Church is like the coming of the Kingdom of God: it is already partially fulfilled but not yet fully complete. St. Paul told the Church at Corinth, “I betrothed you to one husband, so that I might present you as a pure virgin to Christ.” And Paul teaches the Ephesians that “husbands should love their wives as their own bodies… for no one hates his own flesh but rather nourishes and cherishes it, even as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. … This is a great mystery, but I speak in reference to Christ and the Church.” And the Book of Revelation’s vision of Heaven says “the wedding day of the Lamb has come, his bride has made herself ready. She was allowed to wear a bright, clean linen garment. The linen represents the righteous deeds of the holy ones… Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.

The espousal of Jesus with his Church is a relationship with the Church as a whole but it also has meaning for our individual relationships with Christ as well. Consider what habits help a marriage to endure and be fruitful. One important habit for couples is to confide in each other daily. Jesus likewise wants us to pray to him every day. Another valuable marriage habit is sharing meals together. Jesus likewise invites us to his table, at minimum, every Sunday. Folks in troubled marriages grumble and see each other as the problem. Jesus wants us to be close allies and tackle our problems together. Successful marriages focus on gratitude, even during hard times. Jesus likewise wants us to have joy, even while bearing our crosses. Loving spouses must serve each other’s good. We can serve Jesus by serving his Body’s members around us. Renew your faithful devotion to Jesus Christ our Bridegroom who has loved and espoused himself to us, for he is our way, our truth, and our life.

The Rock of Our Redemption

April 11, 2026

Divine Mercy Sunday
By Fr. Victor Feltes

The Roman pagans believed it was impious to kill someone inside of their city walls yet their leaders wanted the public to witness their executions. So on Good Friday, Christ was led out to a location near Jerusalem’s gates close enough to the road and city such that many passersby would read the sign above the head of “Jesus the Nazarene, the King of the Jews.

That place was situated inside a long-exhausted quarry from which limestone blocks had once been cut to build the Holy City’s white walls and buildings. Many years before Good Friday, the laborers discovered a certain outcropping there where the stone was fissured and pocked and judged unfit. So they quarried out all the stone around the spot, leaving behind a mound of rock behind.

That small hill came to be called “Golgotha” in Greek and “Calvary” in Latin, meaning “The Place of the Skull.” That rock became the site of Jesus’ crucifixion and death. It was a secondary fulfillment of this passage from today’s 118th Psalm: “The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” So what was the primary fulfillment of that prophecy? Who is the stone and who are the builders?

St. Peter while being questioned by the Jewish priests and scribes in the Book of the Acts told them, “Jesus Christ the Nazorean whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead… He is the stone rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone.” The Jewish religious leaders were the builders who rejected Jesus unfit to be their Savior. Governor Pilate and King Herod were builders too, political leaders who sought to promote their power, who judged Jesus to be useless for their purposes. You and me are builders too, building our lives through our choices, and when we knowingly, freely choose to sin we are denying Jesus in that aspect of our lives.

Now we do not earn salvation by our works, any more than we could earn the Sacrament of Baptism. Baptism and salvation are gracious gifts because God has loved us first. St. Paul writes, “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” But it is important that we respond to Christ and love him back. Jesus does not force us to embrace him and his Kingdom; we can spurn him and his gifts through unrepentant grave sins. Jesus cautions us, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” So if we reject Christ as our Rock through serious sin, how can he be restored as our cornerstone?

On Easter Sunday evening, Jesus bodily appeared in the Upper Room saying “Peace be with you.” He reassured his disciples and proved that he was truly risen by showing them his wounds. Then Jesus breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.” Jesus does not empower them in this way to no purpose. The Sacrament of Baptism forgives all sins preceding our baptism. But for the forgiveness of grave sins committed after our baptism, we see Jesus entrusts his priests with authority to forgive sins through the Sacrament of Reconciliation (also known as Confession or Penance).

Even if you have no grave sins to confess, regular confession and forgiveness of your minor sins is just good spiritual hygiene. It’s an encounter with Jesus Christ in which we receive healing, good counsel, and renewed grace for growing in our faithful, fruitful Christian love. In the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the stone rejected by the builders becomes our cornerstone anew. By the Lord is this done and it is wonderful in our eyes. The Lord has made this day of Divine Mercy; let us be glad and rejoice in it!

Behold Jesus Christ

April 3, 2026

Good Friday
By Fr. Victor Feltes

The four Gospels’ Passion accounts are rich in things for one could preach about. But on Good Friday the Church instructs that “after the reading of the Lord’s Passion, the Priest gives a brief homily.” So here is one short reflection on the Passion.

Pilate goes out and says to the crowd, “[Behold], I am bringing him out to you, so that you may know that I find no guilt in him.” And indeed, Jesus is completely innocent. Having had Jesus whipped, brutally scourged, Pilate tells the crowd, “Behold, the man!” And Jesus, weakened and suffering, indeed shares in our humanity. Then for a third time, Pilate says, “Behold!” Mocking Jesus and the mob, Pilate says “Behold, your king!” And yet Jesus, crowned with thorns, clothed in purple, and seated on the judgement seat, is indeed our Lord.

In the Passion, we finally behold the fulfillment of what St. John the Baptist twice announced at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry: “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. … Behold, the Lamb of God.” Behold Christ upon his Cross for us; our innocent brother, our saving sacrifice, our loving Lord: “Jesus the Nazorean, the King of the Jews.”

He Loves Us Through Trials

March 22, 2026

5th Sunday of Lent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

The sisters of Lazarus sent word to Jesus that their brother was gravely sick, saying, “Master, the one you love is ill.” It appears that Jesus already knew what would happen and what he was going to do; a path probably not what Lazarus, Martha, or Mary would have chosen for themselves from the outset, but Jesus had a plan. Today’s Gospel contains this curious pairing of lines: “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when he heard that he was ill, he remained for two days in the place where he was.” It says Jesus knowingly remained where he was until Lazarus had died because he loved them. And then Jesus says, “Let us go back to Judea… Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.” And when the disciples misunderstand what he means, Jesus makes it absolutely clear: “Lazarus has died. And I am glad for you that I was not there, that you may believe. Let us go to him.”

When Jesus reaches Bethany, he encounters Martha and then Mary, and both sisters say, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” They both love Jesus but likely wonder in their minds and hearts why he did not prevent this evil from occurring. Perhaps they had heard the stories of Jesus even healing people at a distance, so why didn’t he save their brother, his friend? “When Jesus saw [Lazarus’ sister] weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, he became perturbed and deeply troubled… And Jesus wept.” So the Judeans said, “See how he loved him.” But some of them remarked, “‘Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have done something so that this man would not have died?’ So Jesus, perturbed again, came to the tomb.”

This Gospel speaks three times of Jesus’ love for his friends at Bethany: The sisters’ message to Jesus was, “Master, the one you love is ill.” St. John the narrator tells us, “Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.” And some of those who saw Jesus weep said, “See how he loved him.” But amidst these lines witnessing to his love there are three times people then seem to wonder why his love did not protect his friends from undergoing this evil: Martha laments, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Mary laments, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” And then some of the fellow mourners say, “Could not the one who opened the eyes of the blind man have done something so that this man would not have died?

Why did Jesus become perturbed, deeply troubled, and weep? I don’t think it was merely from mourning for his friend—whom he knew would be alive and well again in less than an hour or two. Jesus saw the pain and scandal caused by evils like death. He sensed peoples’ questions concerning his love and care for others. So Jesus came to the tomb. Jesus ordered the stone be removed, prayed to God the Father in their hearing, commanded Lazarus to exit the tomb, and revealed he had resurrected his friend. And “many of the Jews who had come…and seen what he had done began to believe in him.

Why had Jesus done all this? Partly, it was to instill saving faith in him, so that they may believe that the Father sent him. It was also for God’s glory, for when the news of Lazarus’ illness first reached Jesus he said, “This illness is not to end in death, but is for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” But this trial was also for his friends’ greater good, for as St. Paul wrote, “We know that in everything, God works for good for those who love him.”

Divine providence often takes us down paths we would not have chosen for ourselves. The Lord, all-knowing and all-powerful, permits trials in our lives far more challenging than we prefer to crown us with a glory far greater than we can imagine. As St. Augustine wrote: “God would never allow any evil if he could not cause good to emerge from it.” And as we will recall in the Holy Week fast approaching, Jesus cares so much for us that he underwent the evils of his Passion, Crucifixion, and death for our salvation and glory. Jesus loved his friends Saints Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, and though we may suffer, he loves us as well. Look at Jesus Christ on his Cross and see how he loves us.

The Thirsty Fountain

March 7, 2026

3rd Sunday of Lent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

When the Samaritan woman in John’s Gospel meets Jesus at the well, he says to her, “Give me a drink.” She replies with surprise that he, a Jew, would ask her, a Samaritan woman, for a drink (since Jews used nothing in common with Samaritans). And then Jesus says to her, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” So Jesus thirsts, and yet at the same time he says he has water to offer her. Jesus in his human nature experienced natural thirst for natural drink, noting “everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again.” But Jesus adds “the water I shall give… will become in [a person] a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” Later in John’s Gospel, in Jerusalem during a Jewish feast, Jesus stands up and exclaims, “Let anyone who thirsts come to me and drink.” But then, on Good Friday as he hangs upon his Cross, Jesus says, “I thirst.” And when he died and was pierced in the side, “immediately blood and water flowed out.” Thus, Jesus may be called the “Thirsty Fountain.”

St. Teresa of Calcutta, foundress of the Missionaries of Charity, had Jesus’ words “I Thirst” placed beside the crucifix inside of every one of their chapels. Psalm 22 prophesied about Christ’s sufferings when it said, “As dry as a potsherd is my throat; my tongue cleaves to my palate… They have pierced my hands and my feet.” But Mother Teresa recognized that when Jesus said “I Thirst” on the Cross, he spoke of something more profound than merely his physical dehydration. As Jesus pours himself out for us, he thirsts to love us and to be loved by us. In a letter to her religious community in March of 1993, Mother Teresa wrote: “‘I thirst’ is something much deeper than Jesus just saying ‘I love you.’ Until you know deep inside that Jesus thirsts for you – you can’t begin to know who He wants to be for you. Or who He wants you to be for Him.” And such reflections did not only originate with Mother Teresa. For instance, St. Gregory Nazianzen wrote in the 4th century, “God is thirsting to be my thirst.

The Samaritan woman at the wall balked at Jesus’ first words to her (“Give me a drink”) for she thought, ‘How could a Jew want anything from me?’ We, likewise, might resist the idea that God would want us. He is infinite while we are finite. He is perfect while we are flawed. How could God, complete and happy in himself, ever desire us? It is not from any necessity or lack within God. It was not necessary for God create us. And God was not morally obliged to redeem us from sin and death. But “God is love,” and we see that Infinite Divine Love likes to overflow for others. St. Paul wrote to the Romans that “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.”

Other people may resist the idea of Christ thirsting for their souls, not due to philosophical or theological objections, but because they find the idea hard to personally connect with, as happens with other inspired Christian metaphors. For instance, the Church is Christ the Bridegroom’s the beloved Bride whom he cherishes and protects that she might be holy and beautiful. That imagery may feel more relatable to women than men. At the same time, men may more readily relate to the call for all Christians to be priests, prophets, and kings in Christ; sanctifying, teaching, servant-leading as other Christs. If Jesus longing for your soul feels too romantic in connotation, remember how our Lord eagerly longs to lead heroes and heroines. The saints are his friends who are willing to sacrifice in his service. “Only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die.” Jesus longs for souls who, with the courage and grace he outpours, are willing to lay down their lives for him as he laid down his life for us.

In conclusion, increase your thirst for Christ who thirsts for you, and drink deeply of the peace, virtue, wisdom, and love which flow out from him. You will never exhaust that Divine Fountain.

Let His Will Be Done

February 21, 2026

1st Sunday of Lent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

When people in Confession confess failing to trust God, I note that humanity has struggled with this since the beginning. In the Garden of Eden, the demonic serpent suggested that Adam and Eve shouldn’t trust God. The Lord God had warned and forbidden them from eating from one particular tree, but they saw that “the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom.” The woman and man thought they had a better plan than God, so they grasped at and ate the fruit from that tree. Great evils and painful regrets followed. St. Paul writes how “through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death.” Yet “just as through the disobedience of the [first Adam] the many were made sinners, so through the obedience of the [new Adam] the many will be made righteous.” Because of the Fall in the Garden, Jesus Christ endures the devil’s temptations in a desert.

Satan hopes to divert the Messiah away from God’s plan to another path. Jesus was very hungry, so the devil said, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.” But the miracles of bread the Father wished Jesus to perform were not just for himself or for an earthly life of ease. Jesus refuses to turn stones into food, but he would go on to change bread into his Flesh for the eternal life of the world. Then the devil took Jesus to Jerusalem, tempting him to choose a trial at the temple free of suffering and death, saying, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, (for God will protect you).” But human redemption would not come without Christ’s Sacrifice. Finally, the devil took Jesus to a mountain top and showed him the world’s magnificent kingdoms, promising, “All these I shall give to you, if you will prostrate yourself and worship me.” But Jesus absolutely rebukes him and rejects his invitation to compromise with evil. Jesus Christ would inaugurate his reign as King of the Universe upon the throne of the Cross.

Jesus achieves God’s purposes for his life and enters into his glory because he entrusts himself to the will of his Heavenly Father. At the beginning of this Lenten season, consider where you cling to your own ways, grasping at hoped-for happiness, against the will of God who wishes for your greatest good and happiness. If you don’t know already where you are resisting God, with your time, your money, your pleasures, your relationships, or your devotions, the Holy Spirit can show you, if you let him. You do not have to change your ways all by yourself, for Jesus Christ is near at hand to help you, but he waits for your permission. The first woman and man thought they had a better plan than God, and were left filled with regrets. Let our Lord accompany and strengthen you against temptation, so that you may share in his triumphant glory.

The Light of Christ

January 24, 2026

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Easter Vigil is the greatest Mass in the Church year. Not only is it the first celebration of Christ’s Resurrection, that night we typically also welcome new folks into Christ’s Catholic Church. If you have never attended an Easter Vigil, I eagerly invite you to experience its beauty at least once. My favorite liturgical moment in the entire year is probably the beginning of the Easter Vigil.

The Easter Candle is blessed and lit from the blessed Easter Fire outside and then carried into the darkened church. The deacon holds that candle in the doorway and chants “The Light of Christ.” The people reply, “Thanks be to God,” and then the priest lights his small candle from the Easter Candle. The procession continues to the center of the church and the proclamation is chanted again (“The Light of Christ” … “Thanks be to God”) then the altar servers light their candles with the Easter Candle’s light. Those servers then light the candles of the congregants, who then light the candles of their neighbors, and so on, until everyone’s candles are lit. The proclamation is chanted for a third time, before the altar, the people respond, and then the Easter Candle is placed in its holder beside the ambo and all the lights in the church are turned on. That night begins in darkness. But then the light of Christ, the light of our Faith, enters in. Our light comes from his light, and we help one another’s candles to be lit.

In today’s first reading, we hear Isaiah foretell a prophesy about the region of Galilee in Northern Israel: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing….” Today’s Gospel affirms that Jesus fulfills that prophesy: “When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and went to live in Capernaum by the sea… that what had been said through Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled. …And from that time on, Jesus began to preach and say, ‘Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!’” Next we see Jesus calling others to follow him. He invites the fishermen Simon and Andrew, James, and John, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” They were called to remain close to Jesus, to learn from him, love him, and serve him, and to draw others to Christ and help those people remain in Christ. That is our calling too. To be lit by his light and help in lighting others.

How can you remain close and aflame with Christ? First, Jesus gives us his Sacraments. Faithfully, consistently, commune with him through his Holy Eucharist. And reconcile with him (as needed) through his Sacrament of Penance. Next, learn from Jesus. Listen to him speak through his Inspired Scriptures, the Bible. Listen to him speak through his Holy Church, particularly in the Catechism and (in another sense) through the writings of his saints. Also, spend time with Jesus in prayer. Pray with others (your spouse, your kids, your friends) but also pray alone, here at church and at home, not only speaking but also devoting time to let him speak. And unite with Jesus through Christian service, not only for your household but for our spiritual family, the Church. In these and other ways, you can stay brightly lit by Jesus Christ’s light and help to share his precious light with others.

Momentous Memories

January 18, 2026

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

In this Sunday’s Gospel, St. John the Baptist remembers the experience that revealed Jesus Christ to him. John declares, “The one who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘On whomever you see the Spirit come down and remain, he is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ … The reason why I came baptizing with water was that he might be made known to Israel.” John recounts how after baptizing Jesus in the Jordan River, “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him. … Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”

John the Baptist was Jesus’ relative and their parents (at least Mary, Elizabeth and Zachariah) had known each other. And in last Sunday’s Gospel reading, John at first refused to baptize Jesus, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and yet you are coming to me?” Yet John remarks twice in today’s Gospel, “I did not know him.” In what sense did John not know Jesus? Perhaps, since they had lived separate lives for many years, John did not recognize him about whom his parents had presumably spoken until Jesus introduced himself. Or perhaps, as St. Augustine suggests, John knew certain things about Jesus but not others—specifically, that Jesus was the one who would baptize with the Holy Spirit, whom it was John’s mission to reveal.

The other three Gospel accounts of Jesus’ baptism likewise note the Holy Spirit’s descent in the likeness of a dove, but they also mention how the voice of God the Father was heard speaking from heaven while John does not. Mark and Luke record those words from heaven as “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased,” while Matthew records the words slightly differently: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Maybe these are just equivalent expressions, since either statement implies the other. Or, maybe Jesus heard the proclamation one way while those nearby heard it differently, like later at Pentecost when those in the crowd heard a simultaneous proclamation in different languages.

But why doesn’t John’s Gospel include the voice of God the Father speaking at Jesus’ baptism? Maybe the author reasoned that that detail was already sufficiently established by each of the earlier Gospels. (For instance, John’s Gospel does not include Jesus saying “this is my Body” at the Last Supper like Matthew, Mark, and Luke; but John does share the Bread of Life Discourse, in which Jesus says the Bread he will give for us to eat is really his flesh.) Or maybe the author of John’s Gospel did not want to invite any misunderstanding about when God the Father spoke the Eternal Word, his Son. The Sonship of Jesus did not begin on the day of his baptism (as some “adoptionist” heresies claimed); he is eternally begotten.

Yet however much John knew before Jesus’ baptism or whatever words he heard from heaven, after beholding the Holy Spirit come down and land upon Jesus, John the Baptism knew that Jesus Christ was the one whom he was sent to proclaim and make known. That core experience of St. John the Baptist was a powerful support for him in times of hardship thereafter. When he sat in Herod’s dungeon and faced a martyr’s death, remembering what he himself had seen and learned strengthened him through his trials. The same can be said of St. Paul the Apostle. His encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus changed the course of his life forever. Even as Paul suffered emotional burdens and physical deprivations, beatings, stonings, shipwrecks, and imprisonments, he could return to that momentous memory and be renewed to joyfully endure in his God-entrusted mission.

What have been your core experiences of the Lord our God? How has he reveal to you his goodness, love, and power? Those personal experiences remain real and true and they’re memories for you to revisit for your inspiration, consolation, and strength—and you should. If you cannot recall any such occasions in your life, I invite you to pray to Jesus Christ, St. John the Baptist, and St. Paul the Apostle to be gifted these precious and powerful experiences, for whoever asks receives; and whoever seeks, finds; and for whomever knocks, the door will be opened.