The Paradox of Blessedness: Finding Fulfilment Through the Beatitudes

 4 Sunday of Ordinary Time, year A

Jesus’ Beatitudes challenge our usual ideas of success by revealing that true blessedness is not found in comfort or status, but in right relationship with God and with one another. Even in poverty, grief, or struggle, a person can experience deep fulfilment through trust in God and a life shaped by self-giving love. Lived out in the Christian community, this paradoxical way of life becomes a powerful witness to the Gospel and a sign of God’s work among us.

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We hear the words of Jesus so often, especially the words we heard in the Gospel today, the Beatitudes, such a familiar and beloved teaching. We can become so accustomed to hearing them that they lose their power to surprise us. And yet, when we listen carefully, the teaching of Jesus, particularly in the Beatitudes, really should shock us. It is strange. It is paradoxical. At first glance, it does not make much sense. Today we are invited to allow ourselves to be surprised once again by the teaching of Christ.

For those who first heard Jesus preach, the Beatitudes would have been deeply unsettling. If we were asked to identify someone who was most blessed in life, we would probably not point to the people Jesus describes. In Jesus’ time, just as in our own, to be blessed meant to be fortunate, fulfilled, and successful. It meant good health, a strong family, financial security, comfort, and perhaps social standing. This is what it meant to live a good life. And yet Jesus turns all of this upside down. He declares blessed the poor, the meek, those who mourn, and those who are persecuted. This is unexpected and unsettling, and it should give us pause.

Jesus is not glorifying suffering for its own sake, nor are Christians meant to seek out hardship. What Jesus teaches in the Beatitudes is that while the good things of life are indeed gifts from God, they are not the final measure of blessedness. Even in the midst of struggle, poverty, grief, or persecution, a person can still be blessed. True beatitude, true fulfilment, comes from living in right relationship with God and in right relationship with one another. When we live in communion with Christ, we can experience blessedness even amid difficulty and struggle.

Jesus often points to children as a model for how we are to relate to God. This truth struck me in a particular way this past Wednesday during our parish PREP program, when we celebrated First Confession for about fifty children, mostly in Grade Two, with some a little older. That evening, I was feeling a bit on edge and distracted, carrying the weight of many concerns. Yet as I listened to these young children make their confessions, something remarkable happened. No matter how heavy my heart may have been, the simple and sincere faith of these children was deeply moving.

In them we see a profound trust in God, a simplicity and directness, and a genuine sense that God is a loving parent who cares for them. This is precisely the relationship Christ invites us into. Each time we pray the Our Father, at Mass and throughout the day, we approach God as children who trust in their Father’s care. When we live with this kind of trust and abandonment to God, we can experience peace, fulfilment, and blessedness even in the midst of life’s struggles.

We also experience this blessedness through right relationship with one another. In the Beatitudes, Jesus gives us a picture of life in the Kingdom of God, a way of living marked by mercy, humility, forgiveness, and generosity. This way of life is sometimes described as the law of the gift, a phrase articulated by figures such as Saint John Paul II. It captures the paradox at the heart of the Beatitudes and of the Christian life itself. At first, this way of living does not seem logical. Yet we discover its truth when we live it. We find our life and our fulfilment precisely when we give our lives as a gift to others, when we serve, forgive, and place the needs of others before our own.

In today’s readings, Saint Paul reminds us that not only the teaching of Jesus but the very life of the Christian community can appear strange to the world. Writing to the Corinthians, Paul explains that God did not choose the powerful or the wise by worldly standards, but those who seemed insignificant. The wisdom of the cross stands in contrast to the wisdom of the world. Historically, many early Christians came from the margins of society, including the poor and the enslaved, people who recognized in the Gospel a message of liberation and hope.

A Roman governor named Pliny, writing around the year 115, described this new movement of Christians to the emperor. He noted that Christians lived within society and contributed to its well being, yet they also lived differently. They shared what they had, refused to deceive or defraud others, and sought to live honest and faithful family lives. Even from the perspective of a pagan observer, their way of life stood out as something unusual and paradoxical.

Today, Jesus once again invites us to be surprised by the strangeness of the Beatitudes. This teaching may appear illogical, but its truth becomes clear when it is lived. As a parish community, we are called to be a place where the Beatitudes are made visible, where this paradoxical blessedness is lived out. May we commit ourselves anew to being people of the Beatitudes, trusting that true joy and fulfilment are found not in the absence of difficulty, but in living in right relationship with God and with one another.

Taking the Bible Off the Shelf: Why God’s Word Belongs in Daily Life

 3 Sunday of OT, Year A

Sacred Scripture is not meant to be admired from a distance but read and lived as a daily part of Christian life. Through the Word of God, Jesus continues to speak, call, and guide believers in the midst of ordinary, busy lives, just as he did the first disciples. Even a small daily practice of reading the Bible, especially the Gospels, can deepen faith, shape discipleship, and transform how we follow Christ.

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I remember when I was a kid and I would go visit my grandma’s house. She had the cups and plates that we normally used, but there was also a cabinet that you were not really allowed to open. Inside that cabinet were other plates and cups, the good china. I was always amazed as a kid that all of those dishes just sat there. They were never used. They were waiting for a special occasion. Maybe you have something like that in your house as well. I think a lot of people do.

Sometimes people say that this is the way Catholics approach the Bible, sacred scripture. The Bible can be like fine china. We respect it. We give it a place of honour. But we do not take it out very often. There are exceptions, of course, but for many Catholics, the Bible is not something that becomes part of daily life.

Today is a special Sunday in the Church year, a Sunday dedicated to the Word of God. It is meant to remind us that sacred scripture, reading the Bible, is an indispensable part of our relationship with Jesus. In the Gospel today we hear the story of the first followers of Christ, those whom Jesus comes to and calls. We remember today that when we read and ponder sacred scripture, this is how Jesus still speaks to us. This is how he still calls us and says, “Come, follow me.”

In recent generations, the Catholic Church has been rediscovering the importance of sacred scripture. This week we have been celebrating the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity with our other Christian brothers and sisters. This week is an important moment in the Church’s mission toward greater unity among Christians. Along this ecumenical journey, Catholics have learned that we have much to learn from other followers of Jesus. One of the most important things we have learned is the central place of scripture in the Christian life. Many other Christians read the Bible faithfully and allow it to shape how they live day by day. They listen for how Christ calls them through that daily encounter with scripture.

At the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s, the Church emphasized this strongly in a document called Dei Verbum, which means “The Word of God.” This document was influenced by the ecumenical movement and also by a rediscovery within our own Catholic tradition. It taught that sacred scripture is not simply a book that gives us information. For a long time, Catholics often approached the Bible mainly as a source of teachings or propositions, truths that we could not discover through reason alone. Scripture was seen primarily as a book that told us things about God.

Dei Verbum broadened that understanding. It taught that revelation exists to lead us into a relationship with God. Sacred scripture certainly teaches us about who God is, but more importantly, it draws us into a living relationship with God now and forever. Scripture is relational first and foremost. It is meant to help us encounter Jesus so that we can follow him more closely. This is something the Church has been rediscovering and teaching with renewed emphasis in recent generations.

It is through sacred scripture that Jesus continues to call people today. He speaks a personal word that can change our lives. Some years ago, I had the opportunity to live in Jerusalem for a time and to visit the Sea of Galilee. I saw the remains of the places we hear about in the Gospels. There are several churches there, many cared for by the Franciscans, and one beautiful church by the Sea of Galilee recalls the moment in today’s Gospel when Peter, Andrew, and the others are called while fishing.

When we visited that place, we spent time in prayer, reading the Gospel and imagining what it might have been like for those first disciples. They were not gathered in quiet prayer. They were busy with their daily work. Their minds were probably elsewhere. And it was precisely there, in the midst of ordinary life, that Christ called them and changed their lives forever.

Sacred scripture can do the same for us. Our lives are busy. Our minds are often elsewhere. But when we take even a few minutes to read the Bible, especially the Gospels, Christ can speak to us. A word or a phrase can give us direction, inspiration, or clarity. It can help us to live our lives more faithfully. Through sacred scripture, Christ continues to call us.

For this reason, the Church encourages us to develop some daily practice of reading scripture. That does not have to be complicated. Sometimes we set goals that are too ambitious and then give up before we begin. We might think we need to read an entire Gospel at once. In reality, very small habits can be powerful. Reading a short passage or a few paragraphs each day can take only a minute or two, but it can make a real difference.

We can simply ask, “Jesus, what are you saying to me today? How are you calling me? How are you showing me your love? How are you inviting me to live?” In doing this, we can be changed. Like the first disciples in the Gospel, we can hear the voice of Jesus.

If we do not already have a habit of reading scripture, or if we once did and let it slip, today is an invitation to begin again. One simple step might be to place the Bible somewhere visible, somewhere we will actually use it. In a sense, it means taking that fine china off the shelf and bringing it into daily life. Even a few minutes each day, perhaps before going to bed, reading a short passage and listening for what Jesus is saying, can make a profound difference.

Jesus continues to speak to us. He continues to call us, just as he called those first disciples. We simply need to make time to approach sacred scripture, this great gift given to us. Even a few minutes each day can change us and help us grow more and more into the disciples Jesus calls us to be.

Loved Into Service: Ministry That Flows from Grace

 2 Sunday OT, Year A

We are first known and loved by God, and that identity comes before any call to serve. Christian service flows not from guilt or pressure, but from an overflow of God’s love that fills our lives and naturally spills out to others. Parish ministries are one way this love takes shape, as each person is invited to serve according to their gifts and season of life.

Listen to homily here:

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Are you familiar with the expression being voluntold? Basically, what happens is this: you’re part of a group or organization, someone says, “We’re looking for volunteers,” and then, before you know it, people are being told exactly what they are volunteering for.

In the Church, of course, we can be quite good at that. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been guilty of voluntolding on more than one occasion.

This Sunday, however, we have the opportunity to reflect as a parish community on service and ministry. After Mass today, we will be holding our Ministry Fair in the hall. It’s a chance to see the many ministries and groups that are part of our parish life: liturgical ministries, ministries focused on education, ministries focused on service. It’s an opportunity to recognize those already involved and to consider what ministries we ourselves might want to be part of.

Truth be told, there may be a little voluntolding that happens during the Ministry Fair. But the readings today, especially the first reading, give us something much deeper to reflect on: why we serve. Why do we minister at all? And this isn’t just about serving in the Church. It applies to serving in our families, our workplaces, our schools, and our wider communities.

Why is it that we serve? Do we serve because we feel compelled? Because we feel guilty? What is the spiritual motivation that truly moves us to serve and minister to those around us?

The first reading from the prophet Isaiah describes the servant of the Lord, and in this passage we are given some powerful guidance and inspiration about service. First and foremost, Isaiah reminds us of a fundamental truth: before we consider what we are called to do, we must first remember who we are. Our identity in God’s eyes comes before our mission.

This is something many of us struggle with. I know I do. We can easily fall into the trap of measuring our value by what we do. We can start to believe that people will only love us, care about us, or see us as good if we are doing certain things. In that way of thinking, our dignity and worth come after our service.

Isaiah offers us a completely different perspective, God’s perspective. We hear in the reading: “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; I have called you by name.”

Before any ministry, before any service, God already knows us. God already loves us. God already delights in who we are. We do not need to earn God’s love. We do not need to prove our worth through activity. That dignity, that identity, comes first.

From there, Isaiah shows us something else: we are loved into service. It is this secure identity, this grounding in God’s love, that inspires us to serve and minister to others.

There are two images that can help us think about how God’s grace works in our lives, and both involve water. One image is like a river flowing over solid rock. The water rushes through, and over time the rock is worn down. That can sometimes be how we experience service: everything passes through us, and eventually we feel exhausted and worn away.

The other image is a glass of water filled to the brim. Once it is full, the water naturally spills over. This second image is much closer to how service is meant to work in our lives. God’s grace, God’s love, fills us first. And only then does it overflow to those around us.

When we serve as if grace is only passing through us, burnout is never far away. But when we serve from an overflow of God’s love, service becomes life-giving. Even then, ministry can still be challenging. It isn’t always easy. But it is meant to come from that fullness, from hearts that have already been filled by God.

Finally, Isaiah reminds us that we do not serve alone. In the reading, all of Israel is called the servant of the Lord. Together they are meant to be a light to the nations. St. Paul echoes this beautifully when he speaks of the Church as the Body of Christ. Each of us has a role. Each of us has gifts. Each of us serves in different ways and at different seasons of life.

There may be times when we are able to be very active in ministry, and times when other responsibilities make that difficult. But all of us belong to the mission. So when we think about service, we shouldn’t begin by asking, “Where is the greatest need?” or “Where do I feel pressured?” Instead, we might ask: Given the gifts and time God has given me in this season of my life, how is God inviting me to share his love with others?

That is what all our parish ministries and groups are ultimately about: communicating God’s love, peace, and goodness to the world around us.

As we reflect on ministry today, let us remember these messages from Isaiah. We are first and always beloved sons and daughters of God. From that identity, we are loved into service. Service is not meant to be driven by guilt or pressure, but by love.

And as Mother Teresa so wisely reminded us, when we serve in this way, service leads to joy. As she often said, joy is the fruit of service.