This week’s Gospel passage culminates the Advent season by bringing together the three principle characters of the great advent expectation—John the Baptist, Mary, and Jesus himself.

Mary, with her generous spirit, went out to help her older cousin Elizabeth, and we are given a glimpse into what must have been the most joyful of greetings—an Advent joy that penetrated into the very wombs of the expectant mothers. It was a very real first encounter of the one who will prepare the way and the one whose way he will prepare.

Today is the third Sunday of Advent, and today we wear pink! Well…rose. But why this color? This color symbolizes joy and the anticipation of joy! And why joy?

As we see in today’s gospel, St . John the Baptist is gaining followers because of the hope he is preaching of. This hope is not just hope in an idea or in an event - but it is hope in a PERSON. That person is the Christ, the Messiah, Emmanuel, Jesus, your lover, my lover, our bridegroom...

Advent is a season of preparation - preparing our hearts for the coming of Jesus at Christmas. Confession is a sacrament that allows us to invite God into all the dark corners of our hearts and to be filled with His grace. By having a disposition of humility, we repent and seek forgiveness for our sin, heeding the words of St. John the Baptist. As the forerunner of Christ, St. John the Baptist is the perfect model of preparation. A notable theologian, Romano Guardini, writes that not only was proclaiming the advent of the Kingdom of God St. John's mission, it was his greatness. The Lord called John the greatest of those born of women - let us ask St. John the Baptist to intercede for us this Advent!

Advent is a time to return to the basics of our faith, a season of waiting and preparation that invites us to refocus on what truly matters. It’s an opportunity to grow in our desire for the Lord in our lives, to long for Him with the same fervor expressed in the beloved hymn O Come, O Come Emmanuel. As we sing this hymn throughout Advent, its words resonate deeply, reminding us of our need for Jesus—not just as a distant figure but as the Savior who comes to transform our lives and redeem us.

On December 11, 1925, Pope Pius XI published Quas primas, the encyclical that officially established Christ the King as a principal feast on the liturgical calendar. Five months earlier, on July 18, 1925, Hitler published his autobiographical manifesto, Mein Kampf.

Pius XI lived during a time when many central powers were rejecting Christ and eradicating Him from all areas of life. In the wake of World War I, he cried out, “I won't stand for this! We need a King – One who brings true peace! Oh what happiness would be ours if all men, individuals, families, and nations would but let themselves be governed by Christ!”

Only the Father knows “of that day or hour.” He wills it so in order that we don’t remain fixated on the circumstances of our lives but rather on the One who holds the circumstances of our lives in his hands and who guarantees us life beyond any circumstances and who in all circumstances returns to us and remains God-with-us, Emmanuel.

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus is moved by this poor widow who gave 2 coins out of her deficit, as this was her gift of self to the temple, to the Lord. This Gospel paired with the first reading from 1 Kings helps emphasize Jesus’ message of stewardship and the total gift of self. As in the first reading, Elijah asks a lot of this widow, who barely has enough to provide for herself and her son, but then reassures her that God’s generosity cannot be outdone.

It is important to know that God’s reason for asking, sometimes difficult, things of us is not because He wants to take good things away from us; on the contrary, He wants to give us even better than we can imagine. At times, all we know and focus on are gifts that we currently have. We hold on to them so tightly that God can’t give us more of what He really wants us to have.

In today’s Gospel we have this beautiful convergence of old and new—the subtle fulfillment of the sacred law Israel. At the time of Jesus the Israelites had over 600 laws, and there was a desire to find a command that might summarize or act as a guiding principle. Thus we have a

well-meaning scribe asking Jesus, “Which is the first of all the commands?”

There are many areas in my life where I am blind, where I don’t have what it takes, where I am in need of Jesus’ help and healing. But I don’t know if I bring these petitions to Jesus with the faith and the urgency of Bartimaeus. In our first reading today, we hear the Lord promise countless amazing miracles to those who seek him. We have a generous, faithful God who wants to heal us and give us what we need; like Bartimaeus, sometimes all we need to do is ask.

Over the past two Sunday Gospel’s, the Church has been going through Mark 10. Jesus has been getting swarmed with questions from people of marriage and divorce and other time by the rich man asking how he can inherit eternal life. This week is a captivating question from James and John. “Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left”. [v. 35]. Quite a booming questions coming from the Sons of Thunder.

In Today’s Gospel we can identify three gazes of Jesus.

The first gaze: A young man runs up to Jesus, kneels and calls him “Good Teacher”. Then he asks “what must I do to inherit eternal life”, in other words, happiness (v. 17). Jesus’ answer restates the commandments that refer to loving one’s neighbours. In this regard the young man has nothing to reproach; but clearly does not satisfy his desire for fulfillment. Jesus perceives this desire in his heart; for this reason his response is expressed in…

The second gaze:

Yet, in Jesus, the union of man and woman gains another decisive significance! In the sacrament of marriage, the union between a husband and wife points to the union between Jesus and his spouse, the Church. When Jesus became man, he united himself forever to mankind, especially to the Church. He committed himself to her, and assures that He would make her holy forever and that she, filled with the Holy Spirit, would continue His work of salvation, redemption, and reconciliation.

This is why Jesus, is so adamant in treasuring and protecting the union of a husband and a wife. Because when a man leaves his home and becomes one with his wife, they reveal to us our need for union with each other, and they reveal to us Jesus union with us.

Last Sunday we contemplated the envy and jealousy that can be found in the hearts of even Jesus’ closest friends. We saw the disciples arguing about who amongst them is the greatest, and then we heard Jesus teach what true greatness looks like: to serve others with humility of heart. In today’s Gospel, we again see Jesus correcting and teaching his disciples. This time, John is complaining that someone from outside their group was driving out demons in Jesus’ name. He tells Jesus that they tried to prevent him, but Jesus corrects them again, saying “Do not prevent him...for whoever is not against us is for us.”

Brothers and sisters, is this not our own experience in our walk as Christ’s disciples? Again and again, we stumble in our pursuit of holiness. We are in need of continual transformation.

"What are you arguing about," Jesus asks his disciples. In this week's Gospel, we are reminded of how even within Jesus' inner circle of friends there was the discussion of who was greatest among them - the result of envy and jealousy.

Jesus approaches the weakness of his disciples with an invitation to change. Exchanging their desire for greatness for littleness and virtue - a paradox that is difficult to understand in our world. The Gospel reading is complemented by St. James' words that jealousy and selfish ambition are actually a disorder. Pride, possessiveness, and conflicts, although present in our lives, were not built into the order of original man - they are the disordered effect of sin. St. James makes the observation that disintegration on the inside, sows disintegration on the outside.

This Sunday’s Gospel is extremely theologically rich, but maybe even more importantly, it is also very rich pastorally. It portrays a dramatically sincere interchange between Jesus and his disciples. Along the way to Caesarea Philippi Jesus askes his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” After several responses Jesus asks them directly, “who do you say that I am?”

What a question! Imagine the dramatic tension of that moment. Jesus had been with his disciples for a good amount of time now. He had taught them profound truths, worked unthinkable miracles in their sight, but was also immensely controversial. He had spoken words that could have sounded blasphemous to their Jewish sensibilities. Their religious authorities disproved of His ministry. His own family had tried to stop him at one point. But these disciples had followed him until now. Why? Curiosity? Thrill? Faith? Grace?

"He put his finger into the man’s ears and, spitting, touched his tongue; then he looked up to heaven and groaned, and said to him, “Ephphatha!”— that is, “Be opened!” Mk 7:33-34

Dear Sisters and Brothers,

What we hear in today's Gospel is part of the Baptismal rite. If you are Christian, as a child or an adult this was said on you. The idea is that before baptism we are deaf and mute. Obviously this is in spiritual terms. But what does that mean? Even though you can listen to the words that are said, you can't receive them until the Spirit opens your ears to be able to understand and receive them. There are so many examples of words like these: Jesus is God. Jesus resurrected. You are infinitely valuable. You do not need to prove anything. God loves you. You are not alone… The list can go on forever. These words are incredibly powerful! But sometimes we resist them or do not believe them. For some of us they might even move us to tears, for others they may even seem like a bad joke.

In today’s Gospel Jesus confronts the Pharisees – and implicitly each of us – with the truth of their religiosity: “You disregard God’s commandment but cling to human tradition.” The external rituals developed as aids for the observance of God’s commandments have gradually taken the place of God’s commandment and have become like ends in themselves. It’s always easier to fixate on the external signs of religiosity and to seek our security and self-affirmation in their observance, rather than to seek out the Lord’s will and fulfill it with an open heart that welcomes his commandment like hunger welcomes bread. The Pharisees, rather than seeking the Lord in his commandment, seek themselves in it. They don’t receive the commandment like the mysterious gift that it is, in and through which they can encounter God and his love, but rather wear it on their sleeves, wield it like body armor, and make themselves impermeable to the Lord with the human traditions they have built up around it.

Jesus turns to the Twelve, his closest disciples and asks, “Do you also want to leave?”

I don’t know about you, but there have been many times during my life as a Christian where I have wrestled with teachings of the Church, or have found it difficult to live in total accord with God’s commandments. At times like these, it can be tempting to walk away, or to think to myself, “is this worth it? Surely Jesus is asking too much of me.” Sometimes I look at my friends who are outside of the Church and feel like life must be easier or more fun in their shoes.

But, when Jesus looks at me and asks “Do you also want to leave?” I find myself feeling like St. Peter, and realizing that I don’t want to turn away.

The image of bread also shows the intense union in which He remains in us and in which we remain in him. Bread is made of grains of wheat, water, yeast and salt yet in the final product these ingredients are indivisible and inseparable. They have been baked into one unity and many metaphors can be drawn from how we are unified in Christ into his body. Saint Augustine says “ Understand and rejoice. One bread; what is this one bread? The one body which-we being many, are. Remember that bread is not made from one grain, but from many. When you were being exorcized, it's as though you were being ground. When You were baptized it's as though you were mixed into dough. When you received the fire of the Holy Spirit, it's as though you were baked. Be what you can see, and receive what you are.” We are no longer individual grains of wheat, we are united into something bigger than ourselves, Christ himself.

We’re on John chapter 6 again for the third consecutive Sunday. This chapter is famous for the Discourse of the Bread of Life. First came the miracle (sign) of the multiplication if the loaves, and then comes the explanation, Jesus teaching us how to interpret the sign.

The message is: Jesus speaks of himself as the true Bread come down from heaven, which is capable of keeping people alive not for a moment or on a stretch of a journey but for ever. How can He give us life? By introducing us into His very life at the bosom of the Father, into His arms, into His resting place, beholding the face of the Abba as He beholds us and sighs.