Of Bridegrooms and Midnight Shopping~The Rt Rev Michael Beckett,OPI

(Michael closes his eyes, shakes his head, and sighs…  I’m prolly goin’ to hell for this…..)   The Gospel reading appointed for today is titled “The Bridegroom and the Ten Virgins”.  And my first thought was, “That sounds like a bad porno.”  Such is how my brain sometimes works…..Le sigh……..

So anyway………

Y’all……Ever been to a wedding?  Ever planned a wedding?  I sure have.  In my ten zillion years as a florist and priest, I’ve helped with countless weddings, whether it be planning, decorating, directing, participating, officiating the wedding, or simply attending, and let me tell ya, even the most simple of weddings takes some planning, knowledge of etiquette, customs and traditions, and no small amount of intestinal fortitude;  and did I mention planning?  I’ve been lucky in the fact that I’ve never had to work with a bridezilla or a momzilla.  No, wait.  That’s sorta not true, coz I’ve almost had to.  In both cases I just told them, “I don’t need your money, or the headaches, and I will NOT paint cymbidium orchids blue, so there’s the door.”  Ain’t nobody got time for that.  Funny thing, in both instances, they suddenly remembered how to be polite and listen.  And in all of this, when I was planning and decorating and helping, I learned pretty quickly to always, always, always, be prepared for anything, whether it be extra flowers, panty hose, safety pins, tampons of all things, or a crochet hook to help button complicated gowns. 

I love love love weddings and romance and being a part of it all, but, again, it takes planning.  And that brings us to the bridegroom and the virgins I mentioned.  The story goes like this:

Jesus told his disciples this parable:  The kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.  Five of them were foolish and five were wise.  The foolish ones, when taking their lamps, brought no oil with them, but the wise brought flasks of oil with their lamps. Since the bridegroom was long delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep.  At midnight, there was a cry, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all those virgins got up and trimmed their lamps.  The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise ones replied, ‘No, for there may not be enough for us and you. Go instead to the merchants and buy some for yourselves.’ While they went off to buy it, the bridegroom came and those who were ready went into the wedding feast with him.  Then the door was locked. Afterwards the other virgins came and said, ‘Lord, Lord, open the door for us!’
But he said in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”(Matthew 25:1-13)

Like today’s hugely extravagant weddings, way back then weddings weren’t just a ceremony and reception.  They were a week-long celebration with the biggest and final party happening night, much like our “afternoon wedding/evening reception” dealies.  So what would happen was the groom would go from his folks place and walk over to the brides’ folks place and get her and then they’d go on to the reception together.  The job of some of the guests or attendants was to light the way for the wedding party, using torches and oil lamps, coz you know, there were no streetlights back then.  (And you thought using sparklers and pen lights at a wedding reception was a new, trendy thing.  Ha!)  So anyway, it would seem that at this particular wedding there was no “prepared for anything florist/wedding director” around, so when these chicks ran out of oil, they were not only out of oil, but also out of luck,  coz when they needed to be present lighting the way, they weren’t there, the party started without them, and they were locked out of the venue.  Oops.

And what, you ask, does all this mean for us?  Imma tell ya.  Within the calendar year, there revolves the liturgical year, in which we learn of and celebrate and study the life of Christ.  And, like the calendar year, the liturgical year is winding down now, and we are preparing for Advent, the 40 days before the Christmas season.  During Advent, which actually starts 29 November, we prepare for the coming of the Christ child and the Second Coming of Christ.  The whole entire point of Jesus’s parable is for us, all of us, to get ready.  To do so, we have to open our hearts and our minds, let go of whatever it is that we’re holding on to that keeps us from being who we are called to be and doing what we are called to do.  What dear little sins or pesky habits, long held beliefs, grudges, or anger do we need to let go of?  Who do we need to make peace with?  Who do we need to forgive or ask forgiveness of?  What do we need to do to get ready for, not only the baby in the major, but the Christ who will, one day, come in the clouds?  And reckon wonder, if Jesus came to your door, or Mary and Joseph asked to stay for a hot minute, what would they find in your heart?

And you know exactly what I’m going to say, to the point you can say it with me:  Love.  Love God.  Love people.  When I was a kid, WAY back in the 70s, Stephen Schwartz and Peggy Gordon released “Godspell”, a Broadway musical based on, you guessed it, the life of Christ.  One of my fav songs from the album, sung by John the Baptist,  has always been “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord” based on Isaiah 40:3:  A voice of one calling: “Prepare the way for the LORD in the wilderness; make a straight highway for our God in the desert.

So you know I’m gonna ask, what are you doing to prepare yourself for the way of the Lord?

Amen

No Borrowed Oil at Midnight~The Rev Frank Bellino,OPI

Look at where we are on the calendar. We’re winding down the liturgical year, and the Church always does this on purpose. She forces us to stop looking down at our shoes and look straight ahead at the finish line—at our final destination and the reality of eternity. Today we get the parable of the ten virgins: five who were prepared, and five who got caught completely flat-footed. Now, when most folks hear this Gospel, the first thing they think is: Why didn’t the prepared ones just share? On the surface, it sounds selfish. It sounds uncharitable. But to understand what the Lord is really getting at here, you’ve got to step back into the ancient world and understand what a wedding actually looked like.

Back then, a wedding wasn’t forty-five minutes in a chapel and a quick reception. It was a week-long celebration that stopped the whole village. The big moment happened at night. The groom and his friends would walk over from his house to fetch his bride from her parents. These young attendants were stationed along the road, and their job was simple, but critical: when the groom approached, they were supposed to light the way with torches, making noise, singing, and escorting the bride and groom into the banquet. Those torches weren’t flashlights with long battery lives. They were small lamps or oil-soaked rags on sticks, and they burned through fuel fast. If the groom got delayed—and in those days, between family negotiations and the journey, the groom was always delayed—that oil would run dry. Carrying an extra flask of oil wasn’t extra credit; it was the baseline duty of the assignment.

So when midnight rolled around, the cry went up, and the foolish ones started begging, “Give us some of your oil,” the answer wasn’t cruel, it was just the hard, honest truth: you cannot borrow oil at midnight. In Scripture, that oil stands for something very specific. It stands for a life of good works, personal obedience, repentance, and faithful duty before Almighty God. And folks, that is one thing you cannot borrow from anyone else. When you stand before the judgment seat of Christ, nobody else can step in and stand in that line for you. You can’t borrow your spouse’s prayer life. You can’t skate in on your mother’s faith or your grandparents’ good deeds. You can’t present somebody else’s resume of charity and claim it as your own. When that door opens, the readiness of your soul is strictly between you and Jesus Christ.

Look at how the other readings back this up. In the Book of Wisdom, we’re told that wisdom is clear, unfading, and readily found by anyone who actually seeks it out. Those five wise maidens weren’t geniuses; they simply possessed practical spiritual wisdom. They didn’t just hope for the best; they planned for the wait. They knew true wisdom looks past today’s comfort and gets ready for the long haul. And in Thessalonians, Saint Paul tells a grieving community not to mourn like people who have no hope. Christ conquered the grave. The trumpet will sound. The dead in Christ will rise. This isn’t meant to scare the daylights out of us; it’s meant to shake us awake and give us solid, unshakable hope.

Now, bring that right into our world today. We live in a society where everything is on demand. If you run out of milk, gas, or batteries, you swing into a 24-hour convenience store, or you tap an app on your phone, and somebody drops it on your porch in an hour. We’ve been conditioned to believe that you can leave everything to the last minute and fix it with a quick transaction. The spiritual life does not work on an app. You cannot live six days a week completely distracted, lukewarm, and detached from God, and then expect to have an abundance of oil in your lamp when the Bridegroom knocks. That oil is built up drop by drop, quietly, every single day in the morning prayer you offer before your feet even hit the floor, in having the discipline to swallow your pride and forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it, in doing your duty to your family, your parish, and your neighbor when nobody is handing out medals for it, and in showing up at the Sacraments, letting the Lord forgive your sins and replenish your soul with His grace. Every single time you choose fidelity over laziness, you put another drop of oil in the flask.

So as we walk out these doors today, let’s cut through all the noise and ask ourselves one direct question: If that shout came rolling down your street tonight at midnight—“Behold, the Bridegroom is here! Come out to meet Him!” what would the Lord find inside the vessel of your heart? Would He find an abundance of quiet fidelity, daily prayer, and real love, trimmed and burning, ready to walk into the feast? Or would He find an empty jar full of excuses and good intentions that we kept putting off for tomorrow? Keep your lamps trimmed. Keep your oil full. And stay ready.

A Heritage of Light and Truth: Homily for the Feast of All Dominican Saints~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood,OPI

The Feast of All Dominican Saints celebrates a rich spiritual legacy built on contemplation, preaching, and an unwavering devotion to divine truth. This magnificent feast invites us to look back across centuries of grace and see how the Holy Spirit has worked through the Order of Preachers to illuminate the Church and the world.

​Introduction: Walking Among the Luminaries

​Grace and peace to you in Christ. When we gather to celebrate the Feast of All Dominican Saints, we do not merely look at names etched into historical calendars or statues carved in stone. We gaze upon a living gallery of grace—a profound constellation of souls who took the radical gospel counsel of St. Dominic and translated it into the language of their own time and place.

​From the brilliant theological synthesis of St. Thomas Aquinas to the tender mysticism of St. Catherine of Siena; from the humble devotion of St. Martin de Porres to the joyful zeal of Bl. Pier Giorgio Frassati (that modern friend of youth and the mountains); and from the sweeping missionary efforts of countless brothers, sisters, and laity—the Dominican family has always been called to a singular, beautiful mission: contemplata aliis tradere—to contemplate and to hand on the fruits of contemplation.

​The Pillars of Dominican Holiness:

​Holiness in the Dominican tradition is never an isolated, private affair. It is robust, communal, intellectual, and deeply pastoral. We see this holiness anchored in four steadfast pillars:

​Contemplation and Prayer: Every Dominican saint began their journey in the quiet of the cell and before the Eucharistic Lord. St. Dominic’s famous “Nine Ways of Prayer” remind us that our bodies, our postures, and our whole physical selves must participate in our communion with God. True preaching can only flow from a heart deeply steeped in divine intimacy.

​The Pursuit of Truth (Veritas): In a world often swayed by relativism and noise, the Dominican saints remind us that Truth is not merely an abstract concept, but a Person—Jesus Christ. St. Thomas Aquinas consecrated his prodigious intellect to the service of faith, showing us that faith and reason are two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth.

​Fraternal Life: The Order was founded as a community of brothers living together, sharing their spiritual goods, supporting one another, and holding all things in common. Holiness is forged in the friction and grace of community life, where we learn to bear one another’s burdens and practice authentic charity.

​The Ministry of the Word: Whether speaking from a university podium, caring for the sick in the hospitals of Lima, comforting prisoners, or whispering words of counsel to popes and paupers alike, these saints understood that the Gospel must be proclaimed. Their lives were homilies written in deeds of mercy and words of wisdom.

​Lessons for Our Time

​As we ponder this great cloud of witnesses, we might ask what they have to say to us today. They speak into our weariness, our intellectual doubts, and our daily struggles with a distinctively British resilience and steady grace. They remind us that sanctity does not require extraordinary circumstances; it requires an extraordinary love applied to ordinary moments.

​When we feel overwhelmed by the complexities of modern life, St. Catherine of Siena encourages us with her fiery courage: “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.” When we struggle to understand the direction of our lives or the mysteries of faith, St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us humility before the majesty of God, reminding us that even our deepest theological insights are merely a straw compared to the reality of divine love.

​A Prayer for the Feast of All Dominican Saints:

​Let us bow our hearts in prayer:

​Almighty and merciful God, who raised up our holy father St. Dominic and a glorious company of saints, blesseds, and martyrs within the Dominican family to shine as beacons of truth and charity in your Church:

​Pour out your grace upon us as we honour their memory today. Grant that we, inspired by their dedication to contemplation and their zeal for the salvation of souls, may walk ever more closely in the footsteps of your divine Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.

​May the minds illumined by their teachings find rest in your eternal truth, and may our hearts, warmed by their example, overflow with concrete acts of mercy for the broken and marginalized of our world.

​We ask this through Christ our Lord.

​Amen.

All Souls Day: Living for Jesus~The Rt Rev Michael Beckett,OPI

Y’all….  Saturday night was some night!  For most of us, it was Halloween!  Trick or Treat!  Candy!  Costumes!  Fun!!!  But did ya know that Halloween was originally a religious holiday?  Yep.  “Halloween” is a contraction of All Hallows’ Eve, meaning the night before All Saints’ Day (yesterday, 1 November).  It marks the start of Allhallowtide, a three-day religious observance dedicated to remembering the dead, saints, martyrs, and souls in purgatory. This season includes All Hallows’ Eve on Oct 31, All Saints’ Day on Nov 1, and All Souls’ Day Nov 2.

Yesterday, we celebrated All Saints’ Day, also known as All Hallows Day, or Hallowmas in  many Western Liturgical Churches, to honor, literally, all the saints, known and unknown; those individuals who have attained Heaven.   The origin of the festival of All Saints celebrated in the West dates to the month of May in the year 609 or 610, when Pope Boniface IV consecrated the Pantheon at Rome to the Blessed Virgin and all the martyrs.  In the 730’s Pope Gregory III moved the Feast of All Saints to 1 November when he founded an oratory in St. Peter’s for the “relics of the holy apostles and of all saints, martyrs and confessors, of all the just made perfect who are at rest throughout the world.”

Today, we celebrate All Souls Day, where we take it a tad bit further.  In Roman Catholicism, the day is dedicated to remembering souls believed to be in purgatory, undergoing final purification before entering heaven. Catholics believe prayers, masses, and alms from the living help cleanse these souls, hence what it means “to pray for the dead.” 

In Western Christianity, there is ample evidence of the custom of praying for the dead in the inscriptions of the catacombs, with their constant prayers for the peace of the souls of the departed and in the early liturgies, which commonly contain commemorations of the dead. Tertullian, Cyprian and other early Western Fathers witness to the regular practice of praying for the dead among the early Christians. (Cross, Frank Leslie; Livingstone, Elizabeth A. (2005). The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. Oxford University Press.)

In other liturgical churches whose members aren’t a big fan of the Purgatory thing, today is recognized as a celebration of all the faithful departed and recognizes those “every day folks”, who have lived and died in the faith and whose trust was put in Christ and whose example they have followed.

So in a nutshell, we’re celebrating all of those who have gone before us who were examples of holiness and innocence and faith.  And lemme tell ya, one does not reach the age of 68, and living the life I’ve lived, without meeting some of those folks.  And, I believe, these folks are amongst those “in white robes” that John talks about in the Book of Revelation. 

Know what I’m talkin’ about?  Here:  Then one of the elders spoke up and said to me, 

“Who are these wearing white robes, and where did they come from?”  He said to me, “These are the ones who have survived the time of great distress; they have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb.”  (From Revelation 7)

So, reckon wonder how do we get to that point, and how do we get one of those “white robes?”  In yesterday’s Gospel, Jesus kinda gave us a road map of how to get there when he gave us The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12).

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,
for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.”

And then, again in Matthew, Jesus gives us even more specific instructions:  “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

“Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

BOOM!  Any questions?  As we go about our daily lives, as we go to the poll booth, as we post on line, as we drive and fuss at other drivers, we have to ask ourselves, “Which person on the ballot more exemplifies what Jesus taught?”  The answers might surprise you.  As we drive and deal with folks who apparently got their license on sale ‘up at the Walmart’, as we deal with “that person” at work, and as we just go about our day to day, we have to ask ourselves, “Am I living The Beatitudes?  Am I acting like a “sheep or a goat”?  Am I weaving my own personal white robe?

St. Theresa of Avila reminds us “Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”

More recently, (1917) Thomas Chisholm wrote the words that would become a rather popular hymn:

Living for Jesus a life that is true,
striving to please Him in all that I do,
yielding allegiance, glad-hearted and free,
this is the pathway of blessing for me.

Refrain:
O Jesus, Lord and Savior,
I give myself to Thee;
for Thou, in Thine atonement,
didst give Thyself for me.
I own no other master;
my heart shall be Thy throne.
My life I give, henceforth to live,
O Christ, for Thee alone.

As we live our lives, let us remember that everything we do, say, post, and put out into the world reflects who we are and what we believe.  Love God.  Love people.  Act accordingly.  Amen.

Into the Light of Grace: A Homily for All Souls~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood,OPI

​Gathered in faith, we remember our beloved dead today, trusting in God’s boundless mercy and in the promise of eternal life.

​Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

​As we gather on this sacred day, our hearts carry a unique blend of sorrow and deep, abiding hope. There is a quiet gravity that settles over us during the Commemoration of All Souls. We look around our churches, and perhaps we feel the distinct, tender ache of absence. We think of parents, spouses, siblings, children, friends, and mentors—those whose laughter once filled our homes, whose counsel guided our steps, and whose love shaped the very fabric of who we are.

​Death often tries to convince us that it has the final say. It builds an apparent wall of separation, leaving behind silent rooms, folded clothes, and memories that can simultaneously warm the heart and break it. Yet, standing here in the light of our faith, we proclaim a radically different truth. We are reminded that death is not a full stop, but a comma in the grand sentence of our existence.

​In the Christian tradition, our remembrance of the dead is never a passive dwelling on grief; it is an active expression of love. As St Ambrose wisely reminded us centuries ago: “We have loved them during life; let us not abandon them in death, until we have conducted them by our prayers into the House of the Lord.”

​When we pray for the faithful departed, we step into the beautiful mystery of the Communion of Saints. We acknowledge that the bounds of Christ’s body stretch far beyond the visible world we touch and see. Love does not end at the grave. In fact, our prayers become a spiritual bridge, wrapping our loved ones in an embrace of grace as they journey towards the fullness of God’s presence.

​The Church’s ancient teaching on Purgatory is ultimately a profound manifestation of God’s immense mercy. It recognises that while we are destined for heaven, we carry the scars, the dust, and the lingering attachments of a broken world. God, in His infinite purity and tenderness, does not cast us away because we are imperfect upon our departure; instead, His refining fire heals, cleanses, and prepares us so that we might gaze upon unmasked Love face-to-face. It is a suffering born of longing—a transition from shadow into brilliant, unencumbered light.

​Therefore, our gathering today is an act of solidarity. We offer our Masses, our rosaries, our quiet sighs, and our tears for those who have gone before us marked with the sign of faith, especially those who have no one else to remember them. In doing so, we also recalibrate our own lives. We are reminded of the brevity of our earthly pilgrimage. We are nudged to live more deeply, to love more fiercely, and to hold onto the things of heaven rather than the passing treasures of this world.

​Let us look forward with great hope. The day is coming when every tear will be wiped away, when separation will be swallowed up in victory, and when we will be reunited in the unending liturgy of heaven with all those we have loved and lost.

​Let us pray:

​Gracious and merciful Father, Lord of the living and the dead, we lift up to You today all our departed brothers and sisters. Look upon them with Your infinite love and forgiveness. Cleanse them of any human frailties or earthly stains, and welcome them joyfully into the banquet of Your eternal kingdom.

​Comfort those of us who still mourn. Pour out Your healing balm upon our grief, and deepen our faith so that we may never lose sight of the invisible yet unbreakable bonds of love that unite us with those who have gone before us.

​May our prayers today lighten their journey, and may our lives bear witness to the glorious hope of the Resurrection. We ask this through Christ our Lord.

​Amen.

From Scars to Resurrection — Absorbing the Light~The Rev. Frank Bellino,OPI

Brothers and sisters, we gather this evening carrying something heavy, yet something deeply sacred. When we look across the church tonight, we feel the ache of the empty chairs at our dinner tables, we see the names written in our parish Book of Remembrance, and we feel those quiet, unexpected moments where grief catches our breath. The world often looks at death as pure tragedy, finality, and utter destruction. As the Book of Wisdom tells us, in the view of the foolish, our loved ones seemed to be dead and their passing thought to be an affliction. But Scripture pierces straight through that worldly illusion with five simple words of divine truth: They are in peace. We do not come here tonight to pretend our grief does not exist or to hide behind empty platitudes. We come to bring the raw ache of our human hearts right into the presence of Almighty God.

The Book of Wisdom reminds us that God tests the just as gold in the furnace, taking them to Himself as sacrificial offerings. That purifying fire of purgatory is not a place of condemnation; it is the restorative, tender crucible of God’s relentless love. It is the Lord completing the healing of every wound, burning away every earthly frailty, and finishing the work of grace He began in them. That is why our prayers and our offerings at this altar tonight matter so deeply. We stand in the gap of love for our brothers and sisters who have gone before us, asking the Lord to bring them swiftly into His perpetual light and rest.

In our human grief, we find ourselves wrestling with the very questions our hearts whisper in the dark:

I asked God, “Why did You take them so soon, when they were such beautiful souls?”

And the Lord answered: “Because they completed the assignment I gave them faster than others. The world was not worthy of the goodness they carried. So I brought them home.”

“But why didn’t You give them more time to live?”

“Because I saw the storms you could not see. I protected them from the pain, the struggles, and the hardships that were yet to come. You see death as a tragedy. I see it as a rescue.”

With tears in my eyes, I asked, “Then why does it have to hurt this much? Why leave me here carrying this pain?”

“Because grief is love with nowhere to go. The depth of your pain is a reflection of the depth of the blessing I placed in your life.”

“Finally, how am I supposed to walk this earth without their light?”

And God whispered: “You don’t walk without it. You absorb their light. You carry it with you—the love, the lessons, and the memories they left behind. Their light did not disappear; it became a part of you. They are not only in your past. They are waiting for you in a place where there is no goodbye.”

That divine reassurance is the exact reality Jesus anchors for us in the Holy Gospel: “This is the will of the one who sent me, that I should not lose anything of what he gave me, but that I should raise it on the last day.” Not a single soul entrusted to the Father’s care is forgotten, discarded, or lost. In baptism, we were buried with Christ so that we might walk in newness of life. When Jesus rose from the dead, He did not erase His wounds. His scars remained—not as symbols of defeat, but as glorified marks of redemption and healing. The very scars that broke Him became the gateway to our salvation, reminding us that God never wastes our pain, and He will never leave our loved ones in the grave.

As we transition to the Eucharistic altar, we hold fast to the promise that for God’s faithful people, life is changed, not ended. In this Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the veil between heaven and earth becomes paper-thin. When we step forward to receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we enter into communion not only with our Savior, but with the entire communion of saints and our beloved dead who rest in His mercy. Lay down your sorrow, your unspoken regrets, and your wounded hearts on this altar tonight. Do not walk out into the night feeling empty. Absorb their light. Carry their love. May the Holy Spirit wrap you in His peace, knowing that the God who brought our loved ones through their trials will raise them up on the last day, where every tear will be wiped away and love will have the final word. Amen.

Prayer Makes You Better; Surrender Makes You Holy~The Rev Frank Bellino,OPI

Prayer Makes You Better; Surrender Makes You Holy

When we hear the word saint, our minds almost immediately picture the stained-glass windows, marble statues, and historic icons of our tradition. We think of the towering figures whose names grace basilicas and the liturgical calendar—the great martyrs who faced down empires, the profound theologians whose writings shaped civilizations, and the mystics whose visions carried them beyond the veil of this world. Those men and women are genuine gifts to the Church but today is not simply an encore for the saints we already know by name. Today is Solemnity of All Saints. It is the feast of that vast, uncounted multitude Saint John beheld in the Book of Revelation: men and women from every nation, race, people, and tongue, clothed in white robes and holding palm branches before the throne of God.

Who is this multitude that no man could number? They are the quiet, faithful souls who never had a feast day established in their honor. They are the mothers and fathers who spent forty years getting up before dawn, sacrificing in silence so their families could know warmth, security, and the love of God. They are the honest men and women who gave a full day’s work for an honest wage and refused to cut ethical corners. They are the neighbors who sat in quiet hospital rooms holding the hands of the sick, the public servants and peace officers who stood in the gap when duty called, and the countless faithful who simply kept showing up, doing what was right when no one was watching. Today is their feast, and it is a reminder to each of us that holiness was never meant to be a rare museum piece—it is meant to be lived in the grit and reality of our everyday lives.

In our Dominican tradition, we return constantly to that sacred word: Veritas—Truth. Not truth as an intellectual theory or an abstract argument, but Truth made flesh in Jesus Christ. One of the greatest insights handed down to us by Saint Thomas Aquinas is that grace does not destroy our human nature; grace perfects it. God does not ask you to become someone else to make you holy. Holiness does not require you to erase your personality, deny your history, abandon your sense of humor, or pretend you don’t carry scars. Sanctity is what happens when the grace of God enters directly into who you are, meeting you right where your boots hit the ground, and redeeming your life from within. Saint John notes that the great multitude standing in white robes are those who came out of the “great distress.” They didn’t bypass the heartache, the grief, or the heavy trials of human existence; they simply allowed the mercy and grace of Christ to carry them through it.

Now, we must be honest about what holiness actually demands. We often fall into the trap of thinking that a dedicated spiritual life is merely about self-improvement. We come to church, we say our prayers, we read scripture, and we assume that because we feel a little more peaceful, we are on the express train to canonization. But let’s be very clear: prayer can make you a better person, but prayer alone does not make you a saint. Prayer can steady your temper, it can sharpen your moral compass, and it can bring peace to your mind. Those are good fruits. But becoming a saint isn’t about becoming a polished, polite, better version of yourself. Sanctity requires surrender. It requires dying to yourself, picking up your cross daily, and allowing Christ to take the wheel completely. The saints aren’t just people who had great prayer routines; they are the ones whose prayer drove them out into the world to be broken and poured out for others, even when it cost them everything.

That brings us directly to the Gospel we just heard proclaimed. When Christ ascends the mount and begins to teach, He does not hand down a set of self-help principles. He gives us the Beatitudes—a portrait of His own sacred heart, and the compass for ours. Look closely at what He blesses, because it turns everything our culture values completely upside down. The world preaches self-sufficiency, leverage, and climbing to the top at any cost; Christ says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” reminding us that our true freedom begins only when we admit how much we need God. The world constantly mistakes volume for strength and arrogance for leadership; Christ says, “Blessed are the meek,” because genuine meekness is not weakness—it is strength under control, power held entirely in service of others. The world thrives on division, outrage, and striking back; Christ calls the peacemakers blessed, knowing that true peacemaking requires real backbone. It means standing in the breach between divided hearts, speaking the truth with charity, and absorbing injury without passing the wound along to the next person.

Saint John writes to us with incredible tenderness in our second reading: “See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God. Yet so we are.” We are not running this race alone, and we are not striving for holiness in isolation. There is no wall separating the Church on earth from the Church in heaven. When we gather at this altar, when bread and wine are consecrated and the veil between time and eternity grows thin, we do not stand here by ourselves. We worship alongside that entire great multitude. Every faithful soul who has run their race and gone before us with the sign of faith stands with us right now, cheering us on and lifting us up before the throne of God.

Tomorrow morning, you will walk back out into the world—back to your routines, your workplaces, your family duties, your daily aches, and your private worries. Do not leave the Gospel behind at the church door. Take heart from the countless saints known only to God who walked these same roads before you. Don’t just settle for being a good person with a disciplined prayer life; dare to let God transform you. Act with justice, walk with patience, stand firm in charity, and remember that holiness is found in doing the ordinary duties of your day with extraordinary love.

So I want to leave you with one direct question to take with you when you leave here today: What concrete action are you going to take this week that makes the road to heaven clearer—not just for yourself, but for someone God has placed in your life? None of us get to heaven alone. We are called to bring others along with us. Is there an apology you need to make to restore peace in your home? Is there a coworker who is sinking in despair whom you need to encourage with real kindness and truth? Is there someone in need whom you can quietly lift up without expecting anything in return? Real sanctity isn’t theoretical. It happens in the decisions we make in our living rooms, on the job, and across our kitchen tables. If you want to know what your path to heaven looks like this week, look at the person standing right in front of you and ask: “How can I reflect the mercy of Christ to them today?”

Called to Holiness: The Cloud of Witnesses and the Promise of Grace~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood,OPI

The Commemoration of All Saints invites us to gaze upon the vast, glittering tapestry of God’s grace, remembering that sanctity is not an unattainable ideal for a select few, but the universal calling of every baptized soul.

​When we speak of saints, our minds often wander to the lofty stained-glass figures of church history: the martyrs who faced lions with unyielding courage, the great doctors of the Church who wrote monumental theological treatises, or the ascetics who fasted in distant deserts. We rightly honour them. Yet, the feast of All Saints is intentionally designed to cast a much wider net. It is the celebration of the un-canonized, the unnamed, and the forgotten—the millions of men, women, and children throughout the ages who lived quiet, faithful lives of love, mercy, and sacrifice without ever seeing their names inscribed in a liturgical calendar.

​This solemnity reminds us of three fundamental truths about our shared journey of faith:

​Sanctity is rooted in ordinary fidelity: Holiness is rarely built on single, dramatic gestures; it is forged daily in the quiet corners of life. It is the mother who sacrifices sleep to comfort a child, the worker who acts with relentless integrity in an dishonest environment, the friend who visits the lonely, and the sufferer who bears pain with quiet patience. These are the “saints next door,” whose modest acts of charity keep the world warm.

​The Beatitudes are the blueprint: In the Gospel, Jesus does not define holiness through power, wealth, or worldly success. Instead, He turns human expectations upside down, declaring blessed the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers. To be a saint is to let the Beatitudes shape our character, trusting that God’s strength is perfected in our human weakness.

​We walk in a vast communion: We do not navigate this earthly journey alone. We are surrounded by a “great cloud of witnesses”—an unseen family of faith that prays for us, encourages us, and waits for us. The Communion of Saints bridges the gap between heaven and earth, reminding us that death has no power to sever the bond of love forged in Christ.

​As we honour this vast assembly today, let us be renewed in our own determination to run the race set before us. May we look to their example not with intimidation, but with hope, knowing that the same Holy Spirit that empowered them is actively at work in us today.

​Let us pray:

​Almighty and everlasting God, who has knit together Your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of Your Son, Christ our Lord: grant us grace so to follow Your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys which You have prepared for those who unfeignedly love You.

​Look with favour upon Your pilgrim Church on earth. Strengthen the weary, comfort the suffering, and grant us the humility to live the Beatitudes each day. Pour out Your Spirit upon us, that our lives may radiate Your mercy, light, and peace to a searching world.

​And when our earthly journey is ended, bring us with all the saints—known and unknown—into the everlasting light of Your presence, where tears are wiped away and joy knows no end.

​Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

​Amen.

A Gospel of the Forgotten: Homily for the Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, Apostles~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood,OPI

Today we gather to celebrate the Feast of Saints Simon and Jude, two apostles who often linger in the background of the Gospel narratives. They are not as prominent in the texts as Peter, James, or John. They do not have lengthy discourses recorded in their names, nor are they featured in the dramatic turning points of the Gospels. In fact, Simon is simply designated “the Zealot,” whilst Jude—also known as Thaddeus—is often remembered primarily as “the one who asked the question at the Last Supper” or, in popular devotion, as the patron saint of hopeless causes.

​Yet, their inclusion in the Twelve reveals something profound about the Kingdom of God.

​Consider Simon. Before meeting Jesus, he belonged to the Zealots, a political faction fiercely devoted to Jewish independence and opposed to Roman rule. He was a man of radical passion, perhaps defined by strong political convictions and a drive for change. Then consider who else sat at the table with him: Matthew, a tax collector who had worked directly for the Roman oppressors. Humanly speaking, Simon and Matthew should have been bitter enemies. Yet in the presence of Christ, their old identities, rivalries, and political divisions were swallowed up by a far greater allegiance. Simon’s zealous passion was not discarded; it was transformed and redirected towards the proclamation of the Gospel.

​Then consider Jude, who at the Last Supper asked Jesus: “Lord, how is it that you will reveal yourself to us, and not to the world?” (John 14:22). It was a deeply human question, reflecting a desire to understand why the Kingdom of God does not operate with grand worldly dominance, but through quiet, personal transformation. Jesus answered by pointing to love and obedience: “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.” Jude spent the rest of his life bearing witness to this quiet, radical truth, carrying the light of Christ into regions far beyond the comfort of Jerusalem, eventually giving his life as a martyr alongside Simon in Persia.

​Because Jude’s ministry reached into difficult, forgotten places, tradition turned to him as the apostle for desperate situations and lost causes. When all other avenues seem closed, believers have long asked for Jude’s intercession, remembering that no place is too remote and no situation is too dark for the grace of Christ to reach.

​The lives of Simon and Jude remind us that holiness does not require worldly fame. God does not measure the effectiveness of a life by how many pages of history it occupies, but by fidelity to the call of Christ. Whether our lives are marked by grand public witness or quiet, daily perseverance in difficult circumstances, we are called to the same apostolic foundation: to love Christ, to keep His word, and to bring His peace into a broken world.

​Let us Pray:

​Heavenly Father, God of power and mercy,

You built Your Church upon the foundation of the Apostles,

and through Saints Simon and Jude, You showed us that every heart and every passion can be transformed by Your love.

​Grant us, through the intercession of Saint Simon, the zeal to pursue Your truth above all earthly divisions,

that our lives may be consumed not by the conflicts of this world, but by love for Your Kingdom.

​Grant us, through the intercession of Saint Jude, the grace of hope when we face life’s darkest and most impossible moments.

When our strength fails and our path seems unclear, remind us that no cause is lost in Your hands,

and that Your presence is nearest when our despair is greatest.

​Unite us as One Body, just as You united men of different backgrounds at the table of Your Son.

May we, like Simon and Jude, remain faithful witnesses to the Gospel, steadfast in trial, and joyful in hope,

until we come to share with them the eternal glory of Your heavenly kingdom.

​We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, Your Son,

who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

​Amen.

And They’ll Know We Are Christians by Our Love~The Rt Rev Michael Beckett,OPI

Y’all……  One of the things I can always, always count on, is Facebook asking, “What’s on your mind, Michael?”  And normally, I just kinda ignore the question and go on to wish folks a happy birthday, check out what fun, or not so fun, memories I have listed for the day and to check in with folks….  However.  However, today, I have plenty on my mind.  What’s on my mind today is that I am just so, SO, over people spouting Scripture to justify their hate, their prejudices, and their ambition.  Especially during this election season, we have candidates claiming that they want to  ‘save’ you, the children, this country from all manner of things.  One of the ads I saw this week was in support of ICE and the claim was that they were helping to “save the country” and implying that they were trying to “keep it pure for the future, claiming that border walls and deportations and children under the age of twelve alone in courtrooms were all justifiable.”  I.  Was.  Incensed.    And then, THEN another politician (whose name I don’t even remember at this point) went on to talk about what a good person they are and how they are a “Bible believing Christian” who wants to continue the “War on Woke” by excluding this and that person and promoting vilifying another candidate who was of a different religion and most definitely not white.

What the actual heck?  Apparently, their Bible is far, FAR different from mine.  Coz the Hebrew Scripture reading appointed for today must come from a wildly different Bible than the one said politician believes.  From Exodus 22 we read:

Thus says the LORD:  “You shall not molest or oppress an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt. You shall not wrong any widow or orphan. If ever you wrong them and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry. My wrath will flare up, and I will kill you with the sword; then your own wives will be widows, and your children orphans. “If you lend money to one of your poor neighbors among my people, you shall not act like an extortioner toward him
by demanding interest from him.  If you take your neighbor’s cloak as a pledge, you shall return it to him before sunset; for this cloak of his is the only covering he has for his body. What else has he to sleep in? If he cries out to me, I will hear him; for I am compassionate.”

Sounds pretty “woke” to me, and remember, this is from the Old Testament, before we even get to the Jesus bits of scripture. 

Speaking of the “Jesus bits”, guess what the Gospel reading for today is!!!  Those of you who have hung out with me for more than a second know what my most oft quoted verses are, and here we go…

When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees,
they gathered together, and one of them, a scholar of the law tested him by asking, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”  (Matthew 22:34-40)

If you’re gonna proclaim yourself to be a Christian (literally “little Christ”), then you darn well better be at least trying to do what Jesus has taught us to do and being what Jesus has taught us to be.  And I’m not talking about just the politicians advertising their own “holiness”, but about every one of us.  Further, every tiny bit of scripture in the Christian Bible has to be read through the lens of what Jesus taught and commanded of us. Paul continues this point in his letter to the Ephesians when he wrote:

Brothers and sisters:  Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were sealed for the day of redemption.  All bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling must be removed from you, along with all malice.  And be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you in Christ.  So be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and handed himself over for us as a sacrificial offering to God for a fragrant aroma.  (Eph 4:30—5:2)

You’ve heard me say it nine thousand two hundred and eighty-seven times:  You are the only Bible some folks will ever read and the only Jesus some folks will ever see.  Whoever wrote the Book of James put it this way:

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them?  Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? “Thoughts and prayers, anyone?) In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.  Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.  You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone.  As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead.  (James 2:14-17)

So…..whilst we’re examining politicians and ourselves, let me ask you, if you were to be put on trial for being a follower of Jesus, would you be found guilty?  How would your “works” stack up in court?  What evidence would your Facebook, Insta, Tik Tok, or whatever social media you use do to help or hinder your cause?  This is a question I have to ask myself, on the regular, before I post anything.

When I was but a wee lad, we sang, “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love.  Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”    

We, all of us, need to work on that.