Homilies for February 2026

For February 1, February 8, February 15, and February 22 (First Sunday of Lent), as well as the Feast of the Presentation (February 2) and Ash Wednesday (February 18) 

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time – February 1, 2026

Readings: Zephaniah 2:3; 3:12–13 • Psalm 146:6–7, 8–9, 9–10 • 1 Corinthians 1:26–31 • Matthew 5:1–12a
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/020126.cfm

If any one of us here today were to open up our old yearbooks, we would be confronted with fashions — haircuts, clothes, jewelry — that, although they were the coolest thing in their time, and everyone did them, seem a little silly today. For example, when I was in middle school, if you wanted to be cool and fit in, you wore brands like American Eagle, Aeropostale, or Abercrombie Fitch, and wore a puka shell necklace and a bright yellow Livestrong bracelet.

And everyone here, I’m sure, can remember the fashions they sported to fit in — from big 80s hair to bowl cuts, from leisure suits to poodle skirts — because the reality is, when we were young, one of our greatest desires was just to fit in.

But the truth is that this desire is not something we grow out of, nor is it necessarily a bad desire, in and of itself, to fit in, to belong. We all just want to belong. The problem occurs with what we want to belong to and with what we will to do to belong — when our desire to belong to the world outweighs our desire to belong to the world that is to come. When belonging to this world is the guide of our actions, and not belonging to Jesus Christ.

Today’s readings and the Gospel and the beatitudes teach us that belonging to Christ looks very different than belonging to the world. Where the world values the rich, the powerful, the strong, Jesus values the poor, the humble, the weak. The beatitudes are meant to comfort us, not scare us, because they promise us that, if we follow Christ and are shunned by world, we need not worry because our ultimate happiness does not lie in this world, but in the kingdom to come. And our suffering will be rewarded. The beatitudes are meant to encourage us to reject the world and embrace Christ, to have the strength to stand out and stand up for the True, the Good, and the Beautiful, and not simply whatever is fashionable.

What does this mean for us, practically speaking? That we should run from the world? Not necessarily. But it does mean our lives as Christians should look different than those who live for this world, that our lives should be visibly different from our unbelieving neighbors.

The reality is that if the only exterior visible difference between you and your unbelieving neighbor is that you spend an hour on Saturday evening or Sunday at church, your life doesn’t look that much different; and God wants to invite you into more, into a deeper relationship with him. Because he is a jealous God who doesn’t just want your Sunday mornings, he wants all of you. And when you embrace him, the faith, his Church, when you make Christ the center of your life and work to build up the Kingdom of heaven, even the more “worldly” and “mundane” activities of your day start to look different. Even the way you eat out at a restaurant or play golf starts to look different. Because the love of God that dwells within you, the presence of Christ which you receive today in the Eucharist, is a love that can’t helped but be shared, but which pours out in all your actions, and shows you to be a Christian, a follower of Christ.

Forgo the fashionable; belong to Christ; and your reward will be great in heaven.

The Presentation of the Lord – February 2, 2026

Readings: Malachi 3:1–4 • Psalm 24:7, 8, 9, 10 • Hebrews 2:14–18 • Luke 2:22–40 or 2:22–32
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/020226.cfm

I very much enjoy watching movies, and often like watching more serious dramas. In most of these movies there is darkness, there is evil. But there is also great light, there is goodness that overcomes the darkness, the evil.

My parents, especially my father, doesn’t like movies with darkness, saying that he has already experienced enough darkness in his own life, and that he doesn’t want to experience more, especially in what is meant to be entertainment. I, on the other hand, don’t mind darkness in movies because it provides a greater contrast for the light. It makes the light, the good, more poignant.

Today we celebrate the feast of the Presentation of the Lord, and its other name — Candlemas (the name originating from the traditional blessing of candles). And this feast speaks to the play, the battle between light and darkness in our world. Simeon refers to the babe Jesus, brought to the temple for the fulfilment of Jewish purity laws, as “a light for revelation to the gentiles,” the hope of all peoples.

The encounter between Jesus and Simeon does not simply express “the eternal recurrence of death and becoming,” as the late Pope Benedict XVI articulated in his reflections on Candlemas in his book Seek What is Above. But more than the “consoling thought that the passing of one generation is always succeeded by a new one,” Jesus’s life is a hope for all peoples, Simeon included. This is because Jesus’s light, his life can be possessed by all, which is first received at baptism and increased in the sacraments.

Today, and every Mass, Jesus wants to shed his life into our souls in the Eucharist. May we be disposed to let that light enter our souls with its reception in the Eucharist, even into those deeper, darker crevices where we might be afraid to let it enter. Like candles, we must be lit by the fire of his love so that, when we leave this church, we might carry it into the world, which is fraught with so much darkness and so in need of his light.

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time – February 8, 2026

Readings: Isaiah 58:7–10 • Psalm 112:4–5, 6–7, 8–9 • 1 Corinthians 2:1–5 • Matthew 5:13–16
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/020826.cfm

Once I was talking to Mike, one of our parish staff, during lunch, and he related to me how, when he was growing up, he would pray the rosary with his family every day during the months of October and May, months that the Church wishes to honor Mary in a special way. Mike went on to tell me how he would be a little resistant at times when he was younger, but how in hindsight, it was one of the greatest things his family did.

However, it wasn’t until his 50s that his father told him that he had offered a rosary for Mike and his siblings every single day of their lives during lunchtime for 40+ years. This revelation surprised Mike when he first heard it, and when he told his other siblings about it, they didn’t believe him at first. Mike related to me how he was moved by this beautiful act of love, but, at the same time, he related a reservation: Why had his father never told him or his siblings about this before? Why did his father keep it under wraps?

I think these are very good questions, and worth exploring in light of today’s Gospel. I’m going to take a stab at Mike’s father’s reasoning. I think there’s this notion that any spiritual good we do, whether it be prayers or an act of charity, it has to be done in secret for it to be meritorious — that it is a greater act if no one knows about it.  And I think there’s something to this, something that we find some support for in Scripture, especially when Jesus exhorts us that we are not supposed to be like the Pharisee who blows the trumpet before him and draws attention to all his charitable deeds.

In regards to keeping good deeds secret, as a romantic, I find something absolutely cinematic and beautiful about someone performing an act of love for innumerable years unbeknownst to his beloved, only for his beloved to choose someone else less worthy, and then the beloved discovering only after the tragic death of this unrequited lover, the lover’s true feelings and all his countless unseen acts of affection that he had performed for her. The beloved then having her heart pierced, and finding herself overflowing with emotion. She sees it all so clearly,

it was he whom she truly loved all this time, and hadn’t known it, and now it is too late to undo what she had done.

This premise plays out in countless movies and in countless different reiterations, and it happens all the time in real life. I have unmailed letters dripping with my undying gratitude, addressed to teachers of mine who are now deceased. What good are these letters if they are never seen?

What I think today’s Gospel is getting at is that many of your acts of love ought to be seen and known by others. That is what is meant by not hiding a lamp under a bushel basket. The verse I mentioned earlier about Jesus exhorting us that we are not supposed to be like the Pharisee who blows the trumpet, and draw attention to all his charitable deeds, does not contradict what we hear in today’s Gospel when we understand it properly. Jesus is not saying that none of your good deeds and prayers should be known; what he’s getting at is the proper intention that should be behind such actions. The Pharisee does good deeds and makes them known in order for the world to think well of him. This is wrong: we should not do good deeds to be esteemed by the world, but we should do them for love of God and not for our own vainglory. And if we truly do good deeds for love of God and not our own vainglory, then their light should not be hidden under a bushel basket. What is important is the intention because you could do a “good act” in secret for the wrong reasons. You could do such an act to feel superior over others, and not for love of God.

And so, do not hide your good deeds and prayers and acts of love under a bushel basket! This doesn’t mean you have to share all of them on social media or that the whole world has to know, nor does it mean necessarily that everything you do has to be known. But it speaks to the fact that God’s light is shining through you and you need to share it with others.

Do you have a son or daughter or grandchild who has left the faith, and whom you pray and fast for constantly? Let them know how much you love them — that you are constantly willing their good and that God is the greatest good. What you’re doing is amazing, and maybe one day they will come back. Imagine if every time, or on a weekly basis or monthly basis, you sent them a letter telling them how much you love them, and recorded how many rosaries and/or Masses and/or fasting you offered for them. By this act, and through perseverance, your efforts, your love — Christ’s love — would be made less abstract to them and more concrete. For your love would physically fill their mailbox, their desk, and, sadly, perhaps their waste basket. But eventually, by the grace of God, their hearts.

Life’s not a movie, so share and let your love be known while you live.

Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time – February 15, 2026

Readings: Sirach 15:15–20 • Psalm 119:1–2, 4–5, 17–18, 33–34 • 1 Corinthians 2:6–10 • Matthew 5:17–37
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/021526.cfm

“Before man are life and death, good and evil;

Whatever he chooses shall be given him.

Immense is the wisdom of the Lord;

He is mighty in power, and all seeing.”

I just want to focus on this verse today from our first reading today.

Charles Dickens is one of my favorite novelists, and just recently I finished reading one of his popular novels, David Copperfield. Like many of his other novels it covers the life of its protagonist, David Copperfield, who is born into less-than-ideal circumstances, but who raises himself out of it and finds success through his own goodness and the generosity of others. The “villain” of the novel is a character named Uriah Heap, who, through a mask of humility, leaches off others and who at heart is a selfish, base character, who eventually gets his just deserts, and is thrown into prison for his treachery.

This novel, believe it or not, is an artistic and entertaining rendering of the first reading. Those who choose life, who choose the good and follow God’s commandments, receive life. David Copperfield always chooses goodness, to live out God’s commandments, and although he endures hardship and loss throughout the way, he finds life, and happiness, and bliss at the conclusion of the novel. Those who choose death, who choose evil and follow their own law, receive death. Uriah Heap, always pretending to be humble and simple, sought to better his circumstances through deception and stealing from others, and although he rises above to some prominence, at the end of the novel we find him lower than where he began — we find him in prison.

The wisdom of the first reading, God’s wisdom, is that we have two choices before us, good or evil, life or death, God or ourselves. And God will honor whichever we choose. We will receive exactly what we choose. Doesn’t that seem fair? Doesn’t that seem just?

When I was reading David Copperfield, I was cheering for David Copperfield who was always pursuing the good. And the greatest satisfaction I received came at the end of the novel when his goodness paid off and he was successful in his endeavors and happily married. It felt just and right. Throughout the novel I would get physically upset with Uriah Heap as he started to advance in the world, but at the end, I received the greatest satisfaction when he was unmasked and his evil deeds were punished. It felt fair and just.

We all feel that good ought to be rewarded and evil punished, and yet there is this current of thought that there’s no Hell because why would a good God allow people to be damned. The answer is exactly because he is a good and just God who allows us the freedom to choose, and in justice we receive what we choose. We choose evil, we choose Hell, we choose eternal death. God in justice honors what we choose.

And when we’re honest with ourselves, this has to be so. Because imagine if the Uriah Heaps of this world were allowed to become successful and weren’t punished and put into prison. And also the reality is that there are many Uriah Heaps in this world who do achieve worldly success and do not end up in prison. This angers us, this goes against our innate sense of justice. God’s justice, if it is not had on this earth, must occur in the life to come. That is what a Good God would do. Otherwise, nothing that we do matters or has consequence. The distinction between good or evil disintegrates if they ultimately lead to the same end. And that’s the wisdom of the world: everything is permissible because our end is the same. But that is not the wisdom of God.

Lent is just around the corner; it’s only two Wednesdays away. And so, now is the time to think of how we’ll choose life, and avoid death. What are those spiritual practices I’m going to take on — extra prayer, daily Mass, etc. — that are going to give me life? And what will I give up in order to better pursue the good, and choose life?

Don’t be Uriah Heap and choose evil, choose death — the death of your soul.

Be David Copperfield, be a Christian, be a saint: choose the good, choose life.

And God will honor your freedom, and give you eternal life.

Ash Wednesday – February 18, 2026

Readings: Joel 2:12–18 • Psalm 51:3–4, 5–6ab, 12–13, 14 and 17 • 2 Corinthians 5:20—6:2 • Matthew 6:1–6, 16–18
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/021826.cfm

I enjoy weightlifting, and have enjoyed it ever since I started lifting for football in high school. My initial motivation for weightlifting was to get getter strong and thus improve my performance on the field, but my motivations for weightlifting have changed over the years. After I was done with football, I was no longer motivated to lift weights to be a better football player. If you had asked me at that time why I continued to lift weights, I might have told you it was to be strong and healthy. But now I can be more honest with myself and with you, and relate that those were not my only motivators. Vanity was a motivator, as well.

Before becoming a priest, I wanted to impress others, especially the opposite sex, with my physique. And I can remember posting some pictures on social media that aired my vanity, though not flagrantly so. Over the decades my motivations have been purified. Though I would be remiss if I claimed that I have expunged all vanity from my lifting, I can certainly claim that it is far from a primary motivator. I lift these days to be a good, strong, healthy priest. I lift for the longevity and the flourishing of my priesthood. Whatever physique I have is more a side effect than the aim of my lifting today.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples: “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father.” Jesus then gives the counter-examples of the hypocrite who gives alms “blowing the trumpet” and alerting others of his good deeds to win praise, and the hypocrite who prays on street corners so that others might see.

Is Jesus telling us we should never perform righteous deeds in public, never let others know of our good deeds, or pray in public? No. Jesus is not saying it’s a moral imperative to never do these things in public. What he’s more concerned with is the motivation behind such actions. The exterior is less important than the interior.

For example, let’s examine a more common question of today. Is it OK to post a photo of oneself on social media with ashes on one’s forehead? This is a question that many have asked me in earnest. It depends. What is your motivation? Are you really posting it to be a witness for the faith to others; there is certainly merit in this. Or is there some pride behind your posting — e.g., more concern with giving off the image that you’re a religious person, a holy person, a “good” Catholic? Only you know the answer. If your motives are not pure, don’t post it.

But the more important question you need to ask yourself is, do you really need to wear your ashes out in public to let people know you’re a Christian? This is the real litmus test. Perhaps you’ve worn your ashes to work before and had someone comment, “I didn’t know you were Catholic?” Or maybe you saw a coworker with ashes and thought about making that same comment. The reality is that if wearing ashes in public is the only way your acquaintances, coworkers, and friends learn that you’re Catholic, you really need to examine the practice of your faith.

I don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who’s holy. But when you meet them, you just know. The holy ones radiate goodness and they don’t have to advertise it. The interior flows out to the exterior in a most natural way. This should be our goal, that any day of the year someone would know I was a follower of Christ. Not because I had to advertise it but because it naturally flowed out in my manner and appearance from a fervent, fiery, interior love.

Fasting might lead to exterior changes, but what we must be more concerned with is interior change. Thinness is a side effect, not the aim of the saint who fasts. And in aiming for union with God, others knowing you to be holy is merely a side effect. The saint doesn’t need ashes to let others know he or she is a good Catholic Christian.

Take Lent seriously this year and others will know you’re a Christian by your joy come Easter. 

First Sunday of Lent – February 22, 2026

Readings: Genesis 2:7–9; 3:1–7 • Psalm 51:3–4, 5–6, 12–13, 17 • Romans 5:12–19 or 5:12, 17–19 • Matthew 4:1–11
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/022226.cfm

A few years ago, I was in Naples, Florida to speak at a Scholarship dinner for Ave Maria University. There I was able to learn a little bit more about Ave Maria University’s founder, Thomas Monaghan, in conversations with people who had helped him to realize his vision of Ave Maria.

For those of you who don’t know who Thomas Monaghan is, he is the founder of Domino’s pizza. He began with one pizza shop, and eventually sold the company for a billion dollars. He also owned the Detroit Tigers when they won the World Series in the 80s, and had a large collection of incredible sports cars. He is the epitome of the American success story.

But this is not what he would want to be remembered for, though it’s a part of his story. Rather, he would want to be known for worshipping the Lord our God and serving him alone. That is, he desired most to be an embodiment of what Jesus quotes to the devil after the third temptation.

In the third temptation, the devil offers Jesus all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, if he but falls down and worships him. The reality is that the devil will not offer you all the kingdoms of the world, and mostly likely will not offer you the success of Tom Monaghan, But he surely will tempt you to place riches and power above worshipping God and serving him alone.

But today’s Gospel, and readings, aren’t strictly about wealth, or money, or riches, or power. The heart of the issue is whether you serve and worship God, or not. And if you’re not serving God, you’re ultimately serving the devil. Who are you serving? Simply put, are you doing what God wants you to do? Are you constantly discerning what God wants you to do with your treasure and talents? Because it’s supposed to be an ongoing discernment. Because the devil is tricky, just as we see in today’s Gospel, in the way he tempts Jesus. And he’s tricky to us in a different way, because he doesn’t physically manifest himself as he did to Jesus. He often doesn’t manifest himself as some shady figure, in a trench coat, on a literal crossroads, with a contract in fine print in his pocket. If he did, we wouldn’t sign on the dotted lines and serve him in exchange for riches.

No, what happens is much more subtle. He gives you riches in exchange for serving him, often with you being unaware of it. For example, you get offered a job on the other side of the country that offers you an extra 20-30k bump in salary, and the devil gets you obsessing over how you can get a nicer car, a bigger house, but he couches it in altruistic language, and gets you to ignore the reality. Your car is old — it’s a 2020 model. And it’s too small—it’s a minivan and you only have 2 kids. And you need a nicer, bigger, car—and you failed to mention more luxurious.

And all the while the devil is also tempting you not to think: “Is this really a good thing for my family?” Perhaps you probably could use a new car, but does that good outweigh you moving your family away from other family and friends and support groups and school? Is it really worth 20k more a year? These are the questions the devil gets you to ignore or, at least, put little thought into.

And this is why we need to be constantly turning to God and inviting him into all our decisions, especially the major decisions of life. Because if we don’t, we give the devil a chance to work on us, to move us away from God, to quietly serve ourselves and thus, ultimately, him.

That’s why we need to go to Mass every week. That’s why we need to have a daily prayer life, to be rooted in scripture, to pray devotionals like the Rosary, to spend time with Christ in adoration, in order that we might be rooted in Christ, who succeeded where Adam failed, and who shows us the way.

Tom Monaghan donated somewhere around 400 million dollars to the founding of Ave Maria University. God is not asking you to give 400 million dollars. He’s actually asking you to give more. He’s asking you to give your very lives to him in service and worship. He wants all of you and all of me. And it begins by giving all of yourself to God at this Mass, and every moment after.

Serve and worship God, and you will have life, and life in abundance. Serve and worship the devil, and you may have riches, but your ultimate reward is death.