Christ the King: Your Triumph Isn't Winning. It's Not Quitting at Your Lowest Moment.

 

My dear brothers and sisters, today is the Solemnity of our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe.

Did you notice the readings the Church picks today?

On this triumphant day, this day of glory, when Jesus is ruler of all things, he is triumphant over all things. And look at the readings they used.

“The rulers sneered at Jesus. He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God.” Even the soldiers jeered at him.

Why are we using these readings?

On the day we honor the King of the Universe, we hear about the most humiliating moment in the life of Christ, when people beat him, spit on him, and treated him like a criminal. Why these readings?

What Would You Do With $100 Million?

Let me ask you a question. If you had 100 million dollars, what would you do? What would be the first thing?

Some would buy a really good breakfast. Others would pay off their debts. Some would throw a party for the whole family, including drinks. A younger voice might say, a super yacht in the Mediterranean. A couple of vacations. Maybe quit a job.

Pain, Suffering, and a CEO’s Superpower

Sometimes we think of millionaires and billionaires as egotistic and greedy. There is one CEO who intrigues me. His name is Jensen Wang, the founder of NVIDIA, a five trillion dollar company by market cap. He has been the CEO for 35 years and is worth hundreds of billions of dollars. He comes to work early, stays late, and is always talking about his company and what they do.

If I had that kind of money, I would have quit. In an interview he was asked, what is your superpower? He said, my ability to endure pain and suffering.

You have a hundred billion dollars. What pain and suffering are we talking about? Where am I going to put my yacht today?

He said his hero is his mother, who taught him English even though she did not know English. It means you can do whatever you set your mind, body, and soul to. Before he was a CEO, he worked at Denny’s and cleaned more toilets than any other CEO. He cleaned toilets to get through school. He takes pride in the pain and suffering he has endured.

How Do You Measure Success?

So why these readings? How do you measure success? For you, what does it mean to be successful?

Yesterday our kids played in the flag football championship, and we won. We beat another Catholic school. Even better.

You see the kids with the trophy, so happy. We took a picture. Then they handed me the trophy. It was a piece of junk, light as a feather. How do you measure success? By the victories?

Today God reminds us what he considers success. It is when you show that the mission is more important than anything else in your life. That you are willing to endure the pain and suffering that go with it. That you are not going to give up.

A Small Pinch of Sacrifice

This morning I felt a little pinch of what that means. I went to a restaurant for breakfast. As we were leaving, two or three people were coming in. I opened the door and said, here you go. I felt a little pain here, in my shoulder. They thanked me.

Then 10 more people started coming in. I kept holding the door. Finally the last person said, Father, look at this, a priest. Thank you. Wow. Thank you so much.

When you endure pain and suffering for something good, right, and beautiful, that is a triumph. That is your throne. That is God’s glory. It is when you persevere, when you feel like giving up and you do not.

Comfort or Courage

We try to escape pain and suffering. This world cherishes comfort. We all do.

Is it more comfortable, when someone is insulting my faith, to keep my mouth shut? I do not want any pain or backlash, so when people make fun of my faith, I stay silent. Comfortable.

Will I lie to keep comfort, rather than accept the pain and suffering of telling the truth? Will I cheat and feel comfortable, rather than accept the pain and suffering of doing what is right?

The Crucifix Is the Throne

Today the Lord turns everything upside down, maybe even right side up. The crucifix is Christ’s throne.

His highest moment is that low point when they say, come down from the cross, you can do it. Why not just snap your fingers and everyone’s sins are forgiven?

Imagine if the New Testament read, Jesus came into the world, snapped his fingers, and everybody was forgiven. The end.

What Real Love Looks Like

Who are the people you appreciate most in your life? The ones you have seen suffer and endure pain for you.

When you look at the crucifix, that is what he is saying: You are worth it. I love you. I value you. I respect you. I want you.

Persevere to the End

Your triumph, in God’s eyes, is when you reach your lowest moment and you do not give up. You continue. You persevere to the end, and you give glory to God.

Amen.

Mk 1:40-45 When We Think God Needs Our Help

Thursday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
(Click here for readings)

A leper came to him and kneeling down begged him and said, "If you wish, you can make me clean."  Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched the leper, and said to him, "I do will it.  Be made clean." ...Then he said to him, "See that you tell no one anything..."  The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter.

"It's NOT Too Late" - Priest Explains Why Your Best Years Are AHEAD

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQ-_TWnRyQ0

Good morning, everyone.

Why We Celebrate a Church

My dear brothers and sisters, today is the feast of the Lateran Basilica, St. John Lateran.

Why are we celebrating a building? What makes this church more special than others? To understand this feast, we need to understand the reasons, especially in today’s Gospel.

Time and Fear

If I look back, I feel I lost time, a gift you cannot get back. I lost so much time. Why? I do not know.

What is it about us that makes us so fearful? From birth, we are put in a bassinet, protected by four walls. Then a crib, like a little prison. Then our own room. Then a classroom. Then a dorm. Then a cubicle at work, our place. And when it is time to leave this world, we get our coffin.

Maybe that is why we fear living. We are trained from a young age to stay within walls, to make the most of this small world, and to accept it as it is.

We call that learned helplessness. I cannot change anything. Nothing will change. It is just the way it is. And we believe it, so many of us live as observers.

Christ Overturns the Tables

In today’s Gospel, what does Jesus do? He overturns the tables in the temple.

You might think he did it because he was angry. I think he did it because he was free. Free from fear. Free from everything that keeps us passive. Tearing those tables apart, flipping them over, he showed us you can make a difference. You can build my church. You can make this temple what it is meant to be.

The Lord invites us not to be afraid. Start poking at this world. When you press on one side, another side opens up. Build my church.

Build My Church: Evangelize and Act

So many churches in the Northeast have closed, hundreds of them. Why? People say the neighborhood changed, demographics shifted, socioeconomic realities are different.

Does that mean a neighborhood no longer needs a church? Is that all? Or do we need to act?

Evangelize. Go into the streets. Say, have you been to Mary Magdalene? How long has it been since you came to church on Sunday? Come to Mary Magdalene. Come over.

People say, I cannot do that. Why not? When will you realize this world was shaped by people smarter than you, people just like you, and people less smart than you? It does not take someone special to do something remarkable.

When Jesus commanded, Go into the whole world. Baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and I will be with you until the end, was he talking to a few or to all of us?

The Lateran Basilica: Mother of All Churches

Today we celebrate the Lateran Basilica because it is the mother of all churches, the first. The land was donated by the Emperor Constantine. It was built from pagan ruins and transformed into the beautiful church we can visit today. It has been rebuilt, reshaped, and expanded over time.

That is the pattern for each of us. Build my church.

Dare to Wonder

At our school, we once hired an organization to craft a catchy motto. They offered Leaders of tomorrow. Every school says that. I told them, get out.

We came up with our own: Dare to wonder.

Dare to wonder what you can achieve. Dare to wonder how far you can go. Dare to wonder how high you can climb. Dare to wonder what great things you can do in your life. Dare to wonder. It is the best motto we have ever had.

Now we teach children and ourselves to wonder.

If I am all in, if Jesus is my Savior, am I living like it? Yes. Then live as if that is true.

Will it be hard? Yes. Nothing is easy. When people say, this is going to be hard, what are they really saying? You cannot do it. In other words, can you find someone else?

Freedom From Fear

At my age now, I am free from fear. Lord, I still have time to pray.

Christ overturns the tables, not because he is angry, but because he is free. Free from fear, free from the lie that only someone else can do what must be done.

Today’s Gospel challenges each of us. Dare to wonder. Dare to wonder.

Amen? Amen.

The Prayer That Gives Life and Love

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time – 2025

In today’s readings, we are reminded that prayer is the lifeblood of faith. Moses stands on the hill, arms raised, while Israel battles Amalek below. When his arms grow weary, Aaron and Hur hold them up—and Israel prevails. In the Gospel, Jesus tells of a widow who never gives up, who keeps pleading with the unjust judge until justice is done. And Saint Paul urges Timothy, “Be persistent—whether convenient or inconvenient.” All three passages reveal the same truth: prayer is not a quick fix. It is the steady lifting of our hearts to God, even when we are tired, confused, or waiting.

The Church teaches that prayer takes many forms—adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, and supplication—but at its heart, prayer shapes the three greatest virtues: Faith, Hope, and Love. Each one reveals something essential about the Christian life.

Faith is not the absence of doubt; it is the ability to see deeper than what eyes can see. When Moses lifted his hands on the hill, he saw something invisible: God’s power at work. To the soldiers below, it was just a battle. To Moses, it was prayer.

I remember driving with a young man from the University of Dallas who was struggling with his faith—especially about Pope Francis. He felt the Church was losing its way. As we talked, we were actually praying, not with beads or formal words, but through reflection and honest searching. Prayer does not have to be limited to the Rosary or the Our Father—though those are sacred and powerful. They are meant to move our hearts and minds through familiar territory, through familiar roads that suddenly bring new light, new perspective, and new connections.

That is what was happening as we drove: our minds were traveling down familiar roads, but faith was opening new ways of seeing. When I pulled into a Popeye’s parking lot, I looked up at the sign and said, “Look—there’s your miracle.” He asked what I meant, and I said, “The sign. Popeye’s? No—Pope, yes!” Behind the humor was a truth: when we pray, we start to see differently. Faith gives us new eyes—eyes that can find God’s tenderness in ordinary places.

Sometimes prayer even takes us where we do not expect, but where God is waiting to meet us. Marcus Aurelius once wrote, “The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.” Prayer dyes the soul with faith. It teaches us to see not just with our eyes but with our hearts—to drive through life’s familiar streets and realize that everything looks new.

Hope is prayer stretched toward the future. Saint Paul says, “Be persistent, whether convenient or inconvenient.” That is hope—persistence when it is inconvenient.

I remember meeting a man in Rome, the head of liturgy, while preparing for our children’s choir trip. He asked, “Do your children sing in Latin?” And without missing a beat, I said, “Yes, yes they do.” The truth was, they didn’t—not yet. But we had three months to prepare.

That moment taught me something about hope: it is saying yes to God before you know how. It is trusting that what seems impossible today can become beautiful tomorrow. Hope keeps us praying when we are tired, studying when we are unsure, forgiving when it is hard, and loving when it is inconvenient. Prayer does not just move God’s hand—it moves our hearts to cooperate with His timing.

Marcus Aurelius once wrote, “Do not act as if you were going to live ten thousand years. While you live, while it is in your power, be good.” Hope urges us to act now—to keep raising our hands, to keep preparing the song, to keep trusting the process—because the miracle will come.

And the greatest of these is love. Love allows us to see the world—and ourselves—as God sees: truthfully, compassionately, courageously.

In today’s Gospel, the widow never gives up. She keeps returning to the judge until he finally grants her justice. Something good happened because she was persistent. But imagine if love had been involved. Love would have transformed that courtroom, not just changed the verdict. That is what divine love does: it doesn’t just bring results—it brings redemption. It turns persistence into transformation.

I thought of that widow one day when a young girl came to my office with her mother. She was a middle-school student—kind, smart, and gentle—but she had been bullied, mocked for not fitting in. Through tears she said, “Father, I can’t sleep. I can’t study. I’m so embarrassed. I feel like a loser.”

I told her, “No, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You did nothing wrong. The people who did this—they should be embarrassed.” Then I pointed to the crucifix on my wall. “Do you think He was embarrassed?” I asked. “He was perfect. He did absolutely nothing wrong. And look what they did to Him. Stand tall. Be proud. Walk with your head held high. Because imitating Christ in your life is a badge of honor. Being another Christ is a badge of honor. It’s not shameful—it’s holy. It’s powerful—and it’s holy.”

That is what love does. Like the widow, it refuses to let evil have the last word. But unlike the judge, it acts not from obligation but from compassion. Love doesn’t just respond to need—it transforms what it touches. Prayer rooted in love helps us see that even injustice and pain can become occasions for grace—moments where God’s mercy breaks through human hardness.

Love does not deny pain; it transforms it. It sees not just the wound, but the worth—not just the cross, but the resurrection.

So what do these readings—and these lives—teach us? Prayer forms and fuels the three great virtues: Faith, which helps us see deeper than what eyes can see; Hope, which helps us say yes before the miracle happens; and Love, which helps us see things as they really are—through the eyes of God.

When we pray, everything starts to look different. Even a Popeye’s sign can become a sign of faith. Prayer doesn’t make life easier; it makes it holier.

So whether you are weary like Moses, challenged like Paul, or wounded like that little girl—keep praying. Lift your hands. Lift your heart. And let God show you what your eyes cannot yet see.