Homilies for August 2025

The lectionary readings for this nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time could easily be the readings for a Sunday in Advent. The theme of watchfulness permeates all of the readings. In a question that was quite shocking to 13 and 14-year-olds, my eighth grade teacher asked us one day, seemingly out of the blue, “Are you ready to die?” To our young ears, that seemed like a bizarre question. The only person I knew who had died was my grandfather, a few years before.In the Book of Wisdom, there seems to be an evolution from talking about temporal success, then despair due to worldly vanity, then desiring love over death, to immortality through the Spirit of God (Wisdom).

In the celebration of the Passover, there is an acute sense of watchfulness, waiting, and patience. In this worship, we understand that the life of worship, the spiritual life, consists of this. The Book of Hebrews relates that the descendants of Abraham “did not receive what was promised, but saw it and greeted it from afar.” It reveals a longing and an anticipation, and in that longing and anticipation, faith.

For priests and others who have celebrated and attended many funeral masses and wake services, Luke 12 probably sounds quite familiar. “Gird your loins and light your lamps and be like servants who await their master’s return from a wedding, ready to open immediately when he comes and knocks” may sound like curious words today.

What are we waiting for — or what are we anticipating? Perhaps firstly, times in which the Lord breaks into our lives in trials and suffering, and in times of joy. Secondly, our own death (and while this may seem far-fetched for a 13 year old, it becomes more real as we age). And ultimately, the Second Coming of Christ?

But what about girding our loins and lighting our lamps? St. Augustine explains that girding your loins refers to restraining lustful appetites — self control. St. John called these appetites lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and pride of life (1 John 2:16). Augustine understood lighting your lamp as shining and glowing with good works. Cyril of Alexandria had a slightly different take on these words. He explained girding your loins as a readiness of the mind to work hard in everything praiseworthy, and the lamp as a wakefulness of the mind and in intellectual cheerfulness.

The goal of all this? To repel the tendency to slumber off into carelessness, which can lead to subjection to every kind of wickedness.

Watchfulness. Eager waiting. Being prepared. St. Basil wrote that these are the marks of the Christian — to watch daily and hourly, to stand prepared in the state of responsiveness pleasing to God, knowing that he will come.

Solemnity of the Assumption – August 15, 2025

Readings: Revelation 11:19A; 12:1–6A, 10AB • Psalm 45:10, 11, 12, 16 • 1 Corinthians 15:20–27 • Luke 1:39–56
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/081525-Mass.cfm

View readings for the Vigil

By Rev. John P. Cush

Mary, our Mother, is our guide in everything. Her life, both on earth and in heaven, offers us a pattern to follow. She is the Immaculate Conception, free from the stain of Original Sin, a gift that prepared her to be the Mother of God and the first and most perfect disciple of Christ. Saint Thomas Aquinas reflects on Mary’s immaculate state, writing: “The Blessed Virgin, because she is the Mother of God, has a certain infinite dignity from the infinite good, which is God.” (Summa Theologica, III, q. 27, a. 1).

As the Immaculate Conception, Mary lived her life in perfect conformity to the will of God. Her faith, humility, and obedience shine as virtues that we, who bear the burden of Original Sin, are called to imitate. She teaches us to trust in God’s promises, as she did in her fiat: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).

Today, on the solemnity of the Assumption, we celebrate Mary being taken up, body and soul, into heavenly glory. This is a foretaste of what is promised to all the faithful. Pope Pius XII, in his apostolic constitution Munificentissimus Deus, proclaimed the dogma of the Assumption, declaring: “The Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things.”

Mary’s Assumption is the logical consequence of her Immaculate Conception. Saint John Paul II reflected that: “The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is a singular participation in her Son’s Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians” (General Audience, July 2, 1997).

Unlike Mary, our bodies decay after death, but the Assumption points to our ultimate hope. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “At the end of time, the Kingdom of God will come in its fullness. Then the just will reign with Christ forever, glorified in body and soul, and the material universe itself will be transformed” (CCC 1060). Mary’s Assumption gives us hope that we, too, may share in this glorification, provided we follow her example and live as true disciples of Christ.

In the Eucharist, we are given the Bread of Heaven, the very Body and Blood of Christ, to strengthen us on our journey. Saint Thomas Aquinas reminds us: “The Eucharist is the Sacrament of Love; it signifies Love, it produces Love. The Eucharist is the consummation of the whole spiritual life.”

Mary, as the first tabernacle of Christ, points us to the Eucharist as the source and summit of our faith. By receiving the Eucharist, we are united with Christ and given the grace to follow Mary’s example of holiness. In her Assumption, Mary is crowned as Queen of Heaven and Earth. Pope Francis has described her queenship as rooted in service: “As Mother and Queen, she exercises her reign by serving her children, helping us in our needs with her maternal love. She watches over us in our journey and sustains our hope.” (Regina Caeli Address, May 13, 2013).

As Queen, Mary intercedes for us, helping us to remain faithful and hopeful as we strive to live lives of holiness. Saint Bernard of Clairvaux beautifully assures us of her role as our advocate: “In dangers, in doubts, in difficulties, think of Mary, call upon Mary. Let her name be ever on your lips. Following her, you shall not go astray.”

Today is a day of hope and promise. Mary’s Assumption reminds us that God’s ultimate plan for humanity is not decay and death, but life and glory. Mary, who was preserved from sin and assumed into heaven, leads the way for us. Her life and destiny foreshadow the reality that awaits the faithful.

Let us strive to follow her example by living lives of faith, humility, and obedience. Let us draw strength from the Eucharist and cling to the hope of eternal life. And as we honor Mary, let us make her prayer our own: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (Luke 1:46–47).

With hearts full of gratitude and hope, let us commend ourselves to Mary, the Queen of Heaven and Earth, trusting that through her intercession, we will one day share in the glory of her Son, Jesus Christ.

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time – August 17, 2025

Readings: Jeremiah 38:4–6, 8–10 • Psalm 40:2, 3, 4, 18 • Hebrews 12:1–4 • Luke 12:49–53
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/081725.cfm

In the center of the Creighton University campus in Omaha, Nebraska, there is a 20-foot tall stainless steel sculpture of a flame with the inscription “Ite, inflammate omnia.” The inscription is attributed to St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, and means, ‘Go, set the world on fire.”

Jesus famously says in the Gospel today, “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” He links this to a baptism with which he must be baptized; that is, the baptism of the Cross. This is followed by his linking of this mission with division within families. “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.”

One of the most painful situations within families is division. I have seen it especially in the time of a death in the family. Whether the division is over money or a past hurt, or a situation of physical, emotional or substance abuse, it is always painful. It seems clear, though, that here Jesus is speaking of division over faith. Many priests can tell of the pain that many Catholics experience when grandchildren are intentionally not baptized as the parents of those children seem to have rejected the faith. Some former Catholics are resentful over what they experience as faith being forced on them against their will.

The fire that Jesus says he has come to bring is not a fire of division or resentment, but rather the fire of the saving message of the Gospel. This fire is the Holy Spirit within us. In the Road to Emmaus story Cleopas says to his companion after their encounter with the Risen Jesus, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” (Luke 24:32) Describing this burning, this fire, St. Ambrose wrote, “Love has wings of burning fire that flies through the saints’ breasts and consumes whatever is material and earthly, but tests whatever is pure.”

Jesus is clear that there is a cost to this fire. Ignatius taught of the spiritual battle which goes on around us and within us. As we discern the inner movement of our hearts, we ask, is this from the Holy Spirit, my own self, or from the Evil One?

Jesus does not desire division, especially division because of Him. What he desires is communion with us, and communion between us, based on Truth. However, He recognized that there would be division, and allows it. “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail.” (Luke 22:31–32)

Ignatius’ question: Do I walk under the standard of Jesus, or the standard of the Enemy? Let’s pray that the fire of the Love of God will permeate us, that we remain faithful to Him, who is burning love.

Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time – August 24, 2025

Readings: Isaiah 66:18–21 • Psalm 117:1, 2 • Hebrews 12:5–7, 11–13 • Luke 13:22–30
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/082425.cfm

September 11, 2001 is a date that most everyone remembers. I was a priest of almost four months and I remember well the trauma of the day itself, but even more so, the aftermath at the parish where I was assigned. It happened that our parish had that week a statue of Mary called Our Lady of the New Millennium, a 33-foot tall, stainless steel image of Mary which was making its tour of the area. In the days following the 9/11 event, hundreds and even thousands of people showed up to pray. In addition, our masses were packed with standing room only crowds. The people had received a wakeup call, and they responded . . . but only for a couple weeks. Eventually the statue departed, and the crowds at mass dwindled down to pre-9/11 numbers.

The readings for this Sunday are a wakeup call to the people of Israel. Don’t presume salvation! Isaiah 66 foretells the missionary expansion of the Church. The Lord sends out “fugitives” to the nations. They will proclaim God’s glory to the Gentiles, and return to Jerusalem with a mixed group, Gentiles and Israelites, to offer perfect worship to God. What a shock to those who believe that being an Israelite is a guarantee of favor with God.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is asked if many will be saved. He ignores that question and answers instead, “strive to enter through the narrow gate.” He then uses the analogy of the master who has locked the door of the house. Those who presume that they belong in the house will hear the master say, “ ‘I do not know where you are from.’ And you will say, ‘We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.’ Then he will say to you, ‘I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!’”

The way to salvation involves struggle. There is no easy salvation. In a time when we hear so often that everyone goes to Heaven because Jesus never judges anyone, this comes as a shock. It is a wakeup call. Take seriously the opportunity Jesus is offering to repent and follow Him now. The question is not how many will be saved, but how are we saved.

“God our Savior . . . desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:4) This is the deep desire in the heart of Jesus. He gives us all the grace we need to receive this salvation, won at great price. Through the sacraments, repentance, and prayer, His grace can overcome the obstacles in our life of discipleship. In the words of the Letter to the Hebrews, “Strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be disjointed but healed.” (Hebrews 12:13)

Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time – August 31, 2025

Readings: Sirach 3:17–18, 20, 28–29 • Psalm 68:4–5, 6–7, 10–11 • Hebrews 12:18–19, 22–24a • Luke 14:1, 7–14
bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/083125.cfm

Years ago at my sister’s wedding reception, the groom’s great-aunt picked up what she thought was her place card and went to the assigned table. (Her name was similar to the name of one of the guests who was on the groom’s softball team). The woman sat at the table, and was very happy to find herself in the company of a group of men in their 20s, and right next to the bar! The groom’s mother noticed her aunt sitting there and quickly rectified the situation, perhaps to the aunt’s disappointment.

We can all relate to banquets and the art of seating people in the right place and with the right people, so Jesus using that setting for a parable is accessible to everyone. Another reality for most of us is the experience of illness and weakness, either in ourselves or loved ones. The loss of independence, mobility, memory, and control over daily functions and routines is a painful trial. Some handle it well, with acceptance and resignation, humbly accepting assistance. Others struggle greatly with it.

Matt Maher wrote a song called “Every Little Prison,” which is a contemporary prayer for humility. In it, he asks to be delivered . . .

From wanting to be loved, from wanting to be praised by all, from needing to be first, from finding all my worth in this world, from wanting to be seen, from constant worrying about myself.

Deliver me, deliver me. Show me what it all looks like scribbled on the pages of a human life, riddled through the ages until we see the light, breaking all the cages wide open.
Every little prison.

His sense that pride puts us in a cage and that these cages can turn into prison is spot on. Jesus showed us on the Cross what humility really looks like. St. Paul’s Philippians Hymn is a beautiful exposition of the power of humility to the point of death, followed by Resurrection and exaltation.

However, the world doesn’t understand or accept this. It’s nothing new. Obviously it was a reality in the time of Jesus as well. Our hope? It is expressed in the Letter to the Hebrews so powerfully: “You have approached the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and countless angels in festal gathering, and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven, and God the judge of all, and the spirits of the just made perfect, and Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant.”