Building a Church Together
These readings carry a wonderful and powerful meaning when you hold them together.
In the first reading, the early Church is already dealing with trouble. The Hellenists, Jews who grew up outside of Israel, and the Hebrews, Jews who grew up in Israel, are divided. That division is causing real friction in the way widows are being treated. Even in the earliest days of the Church, things needed to be worked out.
What matters is that they did work it out. They worked through it together. That is actually where the idea of deacons comes from. (They’re here to solve all our problems)
The responsorial psalm carries this message: “Lord, let your mercy be on us as we place our trust in you.” We place our trust in God because of his mercy. That exchange is at the heart of everything.
Then in the second reading, St. Peter introduces the image of stones. The first reading shows the Church being built, not physically, but in terms of mission and purpose. The second reading tells us that we are the stones that hold it together.
And in the Gospel, Jesus says it plainly: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Have faith in God. Have faith in me. I am the way, the truth, and the life.”
Jesus is the boulder. He is the rock. He is the cornerstone.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
And then Peter turns to us: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own.” We are the stones that help build this Church together. We cannot ignore it, erase it, or walk away when the Church is going through tough times. We are here to help build it.
Building a physical structure would be easy by comparison. But the real goal is not what you build. The real goal is who you become.
A Confirmation Program and an Honest Reaction
We had confirmations here recently, over 100 kids across five separate ceremonies. It was a beautiful program. But something on the back of the program gave me pause.
It read: “Dear parents, today is a beautiful and graceful day as your children receive the sacrament of confirmation. Thank you for your unwavering love, your sacrifices, your commitment to raising your children in the Catholic faith.”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
And then Peter turns to us: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own.” We are the stones that help build this Church together. We cannot ignore it, erase it, or walk away when the Church is going through tough times. We are here to help build it.
Building a physical structure would be easy by comparison. But the real goal is not what you build. The real goal is who you become.
A Confirmation Program and an Honest Reaction
We had confirmations here recently, over 100 kids across five separate ceremonies. It was a beautiful program. But something on the back of the program gave me pause.
It read: “Dear parents, today is a beautiful and graceful day as your children receive the sacrament of confirmation. Thank you for your unwavering love, your sacrifices, your commitment to raising your children in the Catholic faith.”
I thought about that. If I had been confirmed and read those words, my reaction would have been something like, “The only reason I’m here is because I was forced to be here. I can’t wait to get confirmed so I never have to step foot in a Catholic church again.”
I never saw my parents pray. Not once. I never saw my father pray. I never saw my mother pray. The one person I actually did see pray was my grandmother.
When I was being rebellious and angry, she would say, “Alfonso, I pray for you. I pray for you.” And I would say back to her, “What are your prayers going to do for me?”
Now I’m a priest.
I was young. I was stupid. But more than anything, I was angry.
A Diary from 1977
When my father passed away, he had saved so many things. Going through his belongings, I found a diary I had started writing in 1977. I was 12 years old, in seventh grade.
The pages are filled with blacked-out curse words. The entries describe how much I hated my father, how much I hated my brother and sister. This all lines up with the years my parents were going through their divorce.
It is so easy to displace Jesus when you are going through tough times and replace him with something else. It can be anger. It can be resentment. It can be anything.
Here is how it often happens in a small town. You go to church every Sunday. Everyone knows your family. They watch the kids grow up. And then the family dynamics change. Suddenly, you do not want to go. You do not want to hear the questions. “How are you doing? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”
So you stop going. And when a child stops going, God can be quietly removed and replaced.
It happens in other ways too. A child starts playing club soccer. The schedule shifts. Saturdays and then Sundays get taken over. Sunday Mass gets displaced. Life gets complicated, life gets challenging, and the rock gets moved.
This is what happens when you begin to replace God with something else.
What My Father Did Not Do
My father found that diary. He took it from my room and kept it. I honestly do not know why. Maybe he planned to use it against me one day.
But here is the thing. He had an opportunity. He could have sat me down and said, “Hey, I read this. What’s going on? Why do you feel this way?” He had that moment right in front of him.
He did not take it. When we are going through tough times, we tend to avoid. We go silent. We pretend nothing is happening. My father was a good man. A genuinely good man. But you cannot give what you do not have.
Today I look at that diary as a grace from God. It is an opportunity to learn from the past and to share something real.
The One Stable Thing
The image of Jesus as the cornerstone matters because of what it actually means. No matter what you are going through, there is one stable thing that will never change. Something eternal.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life. Come to me, all you who are burdened, and I will give you rest. I will never fail you.”
For me, it was my grandmother. This woman had only a fifth-grade education. She came to live with us when my life was a complete mess. And she was the one who gave the greatest testimony of what it means to be strong.
She prayed. That was it. She just prayed, faithfully, out loud, where I could see her. I always remember.
You Can Still Be That Rock
Here is the good news. If you are still breathing, if you are still alive, you can still be that rock for someone.
We have been called by God to be a stabilizing presence in our own lives and in the lives of the people around us. We are the stones. Jesus is the cornerstone. And together, we build something that lasts.
If Christ is not the center, everything else slowly takes his place. Remember that. And be the rock.
