Which Voice Are You Listening To? Letting God’s Word Bear Fruit

 15 Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A

Every day, many voices compete for our attention, but God’s word is the voice that gives life, nourishes our hearts, and produces lasting fruit. The example of St. Anthony and the parable of the sower show what can happen when we receive Scripture as a personal word from Christ. We prepare good soil in our hearts by making time for God’s word, listening to it personally, and acting upon what Jesus asks of us.

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We are all familiar with the idea of peer pressure. Usually, when we hear that expression, we think of teenagers being pressured by their friends to act in a certain way. But the truth is that peer pressure does not disappear when we grow older.

Whether young or old, all of us are influenced by the voices around us. Every day, countless words come our way—from advertising, social media, family, friends, work, and the wider culture. These voices tell us what to buy, how to behave, what success should look like, and even how we should view other people.

The question, then, is not whether we are listening to voices. We all are. The important question is: Which voice are we listening to?

Today’s readings, especially the first reading and the Gospel, direct our attention to the voice of God—to God’s word. God’s word is different from the many other voices that compete for our attention because God’s word gives life. It nourishes us and produces good fruit within us.

In the first reading, the prophet Isaiah gives us a beautiful image. He compares God’s word to rain and snow falling upon dry ground.

Imagine soil that has been dry for a long time. When the rain begins to fall, the ground slowly softens. The water sinks into the earth, and eventually the seeds hidden beneath the surface begin to sprout and produce fruit.

Isaiah tells us that this is what God’s word does within us. When we listen to Holy Scripture, God’s word enters our hearts. Its effects may not always be immediate or dramatic. Like gentle rain, however, it slowly nourishes us, softens our hearts, and brings about growth.

Among all the voices we hear, God’s word is the voice we most need to listen to because it leads us toward life.

The story of St. Anthony of the Desert provides a powerful example of what God’s word can accomplish in a person’s life.

St. Anthony lived during the third and fourth centuries. His parents died while he was still quite young, leaving him a large inheritance and the responsibility of caring for his younger sister. Although he possessed considerable wealth, Anthony was uncertain about the direction of his life.

During this period, he began attending Mass more frequently and listening carefully to the word of God.

One day, Anthony entered a church just as the Gospel was being proclaimed. He heard the passage in which Jesus says to the rich young man: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you possess, give to the poor, and come, follow me.”

Anthony had probably heard this Gospel before. But on that particular day, something was different. The soil of his heart had been prepared.

He no longer heard the words as something spoken only in the distant past or directed toward someone else. He heard them as words being spoken personally to him.

The word of God entered his heart and moved him to act. Anthony made provisions for his sister, distributed the remainder of his inheritance to the poor, and eventually went into the desert to devote himself to prayer.

He became one of the great Desert Fathers and is remembered as one of the founders of Christian monasticism. His life shows us the extraordinary fruit that can grow when a person truly receives and acts upon God’s word.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the sower. The sower scatters the seed generously, and the seed represents the word of God.

God’s word is constantly being sown into our lives. We hear it at Mass. We encounter it when we read Scripture. The important question is whether the soil of our hearts is prepared to receive it.

Will the word enter our hearts and transform us? Will it produce fruit, or will it be crowded out by the many other voices around us?

There are three practical ways that we can prepare our hearts to receive God’s word.

The first is to make space for God’s word.

When we come to Mass, are we attentive to the readings? Perhaps we could read them before Mass so that we are better prepared to hear them proclaimed.

We can also make a habit of listening to God’s word each day. Even a small amount of time can have a powerful effect. We might read the Gospel of the day and then spend two or three minutes in silence.

Like rain falling gently upon the earth, a few minutes with Scripture each day can nourish our hearts over time.

We receive so many words through the news, social media, entertainment, and the people around us. Are we also making room for the good seed of God’s word?

The second step is to take God’s word personally.

Sometimes we can listen to Scripture as though it were addressed only to people who lived long ago. Instead, we should approach the Bible with the prayer: “Lord, what are you saying to me?”

What are you trying to teach me? How are you asking me to grow? What part of my life needs healing? How are you encouraging or challenging me?

Like St. Anthony, we should listen to Scripture not simply as a word spoken to someone else, but as a living word that Christ speaks to us here and now.

The third step is to act upon what Christ is saying to us.

God’s word produced fruit in St. Anthony’s life because he responded to it. He heard the word, took it to heart, and acted upon it.

When Christ speaks to us through Scripture, we also need to respond.

Perhaps God is calling us to devote more time to prayer. Perhaps he is inviting us to recognize his love and to live with greater gratitude. Perhaps Jesus is asking us to forgive someone, repair a relationship, or take the first step toward reconciliation. Perhaps he is calling us to serve someone in need.

Whatever the invitation may be, we should take one concrete step in response.

To allow the seed of God’s word to bear fruit, we must make space for it, take it personally, and act upon it.

Again, the question is not whether we are listening to voices. We all hear many voices each day. The real question is: Which voice are we allowing to guide our lives?

God’s word is good. It gives life, offers encouragement, challenges us to grow, and leads us along the right path.

Let us treasure the great gift of Sacred Scripture. Jesus, the divine sower, continues to plant his word within our hearts. Let us pray that his word will always find good soil within us, so that our lives may bear abundant fruit.

Jesus’ Easy Yoke: Finding Rest When Life Feels Heavy

 14 Sunday of Ordinary Time

Jesus does not promise a life without responsibilities, but he does promise rest to those who carry their burdens with him. When our work and duties are motivated by love of God and neighbour, the weight of these burdens is transformed. The Mass, like the Sabbath, helps us remember our deepest identity and the true purpose behind all that we do.

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I think a lot of us can feel quite tired at times. We can feel burdened, and not just physically, but also inside, interiorly. Life can feel like one responsibility after another, one deadline after another. We can be burdened by many different things: responsibilities at work, family responsibilities, health struggles, and even responsibilities in our volunteer work at the church. We can feel burdened. We can feel really tired.

Technology was supposed to relieve a lot of this burden and stress. But when we think about it, perhaps it has even added to it. It has added more emails, more messages to respond to, and more social media to keep up with. Recently, Gallup released its State of the Global Workplace: 2026 report, which found that 40% of employees globally experienced a lot of stress the previous day. Many people are burdened and stressed. And it is not just people who are working. Students also carry a heavy burden. Young people, too, can feel increasingly weighed down.

For this reason, the Gospel today is very relevant and very appealing. It holds out to us a great promise. Jesus says to us in the Gospel from Matthew: “Come to me, all you who labour and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”

That rest is something we desire. We desire for the burden to be removed. And yet, when we look closely at Jesus’ message, he presents us with something of a paradox. Jesus does not promise us a life without responsibility or a life without work. However, and this is very important, Jesus promises us that when we are motivated by the right things, especially love of God and love of neighbour, then our burdens become less heavy. They become something that we bear with Christ.

Let us begin with the example of Jesus himself. In the Gospel, Jesus tells us, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Really? Is that really the case for Jesus?

Let us look at what is happening in the context. Right before this, Jesus has been in a variety of towns: Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum. He has been working very hard. His burden does not seem very light. He has been teaching people about God. He has been healing people. He has also been rejected by many people. An easy yoke? A light burden? It does not immediately seem to be the case.

Immediately after this, Jesus will continue on the path that leads to Jerusalem, to his passion and death. His responsibilities seem very weighty indeed. How, then, can he say that his yoke is easy? What makes his burden light? How can he promise us rest?

Within the Gospel we heard today, we find an indication. It is all about what is in Jesus’ heart. Jesus says, “Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart.” And right before this, he praises God his Father for all the goodness and blessings that he gives.

This is central. Jesus has many responsibilities. Jesus has a difficult path. But for him, this burden is made light because his heart is motivated by love. He does everything out of love for God and love for neighbour. Jesus teaches us this same path. When we live in this way, our yoke becomes easier, and we find rest in Christ.

Later in Matthew’s Gospel, in chapter 23, Jesus compares his way to the way of some other teachers and scribes. Jesus says that they “tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders.” In other words, there are some teachers who act out of pride, who want to be seen, praised, esteemed, and placed on a pedestal. They are looking out for themselves.

When we live in that way, the work we do becomes burdensome and tiring. But when we do things with a spirit of love and service, the responsibilities and duties we carry become more manageable. It is then that we experience the rest that Jesus promises us.

We all experience challenges. Jesus does not promise simply to take these away. But when we carry them with love, with service, and with a clear sense of why we do what we do, they become lighter. There is an expression you may have heard before: “The load is heavy, but love changes its weight.” Love changes the weight.

Think, for example, of a parent caring for a young child, getting up frequently at night to care for that child. That is not easy. It is a huge responsibility. But because it is done out of love and care for the child, the burden becomes lighter. When we know why we do what we do, then we begin to experience the rest and the lighter yoke that Jesus gives.

We are trying to do what we do for love of God and love of others. We are trying to do it in a spirit of service. And it is in this way that we journey with Christ, and Christ helps us lift these weighty responsibilities.

Each and every week, when we come here to Mass, we have an opportunity to remind ourselves of this “why,” the purpose for which we do things, the reason behind our responsibilities and work, and the reason these burdens can become lighter.

There are many reasons we come to Mass on Sunday or Saturday evening. We come to gather as a community, to listen to God’s word, and to receive Jesus in Holy Communion. But we can also learn another reason why it is so important to come to Mass. It has to do with what we call living the Sabbath.

Here, I think, we can learn a lesson from our Jewish brothers and sisters. For many of them, the Sabbath is taken very seriously. I remember many years ago, when I was studying in Jerusalem, every Friday evening, about an hour before the Sabbath began, an alarm would sound throughout the city. It alerted people that the Sabbath was about to begin.

Of course, Sabbath means rest. For many Jewish people, this means not doing any work on the Sabbath. But when you speak to a devout Jew, the Sabbath is not simply a breather from the work of the week. It is not just a moment to step back, relax, and store up strength for the week ahead.

The Sabbath is not merely a rest day. The Sabbath is the most important day, because on the Sabbath, you remember why you do what you do for the rest of the week. You remember your truest identity. You remember which relationships matter most.

In the book of Exodus, after the people have been liberated from slavery in Egypt, they are commanded to celebrate the Sabbath each week as a day of rest. Why? Because the Sabbath reminds them that they are not slaves. God has liberated them. God loves them. God has formed them into a community.

The Sabbath is a day to remember the relationships and truths that are most important: our relationship with God, our relationship with family members, our relationship with friends, and the fact that we are bound together in love and called to serve others.

This is also what we are doing when we come to Mass. Of course, Mass can sometimes feel like a burden, and we can be tempted to leave it behind. But coming to Mass each Sunday is an opportunity to remember our deepest identity. We are God’s beloved children. We are a family of faith. We are reminded of our call to serve. And even more than this, in the Mass, we receive the strength to do it: to serve God and to serve our neighbour.

Jesus does not promise us a life free from responsibilities, duties, or struggles. But Jesus does promise us the grace to transform them. Jesus promises us rest. Jesus promises us a lighter yoke.

Let us remind ourselves today of this important truth that we see in the life of Christ himself. Jesus did so much. He did not have an easy path, and neither do we at times. But when we remember the love that God has for us, and when we remember that we do what we do out of love for God and love for neighbour, it is then that we experience the light yoke and the rest that Christ promises.

Hospitality: Welcoming Christ in the Stranger

 13 Sunday OT, Year A

As Vancouver welcomes the world during the World Cup, the readings invite us to reflect on the deeper Christian meaning of hospitality. From the Shunammite woman who welcomes Elisha, to St. Benedict, St. Vincent de Paul, Dorothy Day, and Pope Francis, the Church teaches that in welcoming the stranger, the poor, and the person who is different from us, we welcome Christ himself. Christian hospitality begins when we stop seeing others as interruptions, threats, or problems, and begin receiving them as gifts to be encountered.

Listen to homily here:

Read Homily here: 

Looking around, I think a lot of us are praying extra hard this morning, because Canada will be playing soon in the World Cup. It has been such an enjoyable time for Canada, and especially for Vancouver, to host the World Cup.

Last week, I spoke about the way emotions are on display during the World Cup. Today, I would like to speak about another theme that is front and centre during this time: hospitality, or welcome.

We see the signs everywhere: “Vancouver welcomes the world.” “Vancouver hosts the world.” And, of course, during this time, Vancouver is trying very hard to be hospitable, to welcome all the different visitors who are here. I think Vancouver is doing a good job of it.

But hospitality is not just an important human virtue or value. It is something very close to the heart of God. This comes across clearly in the first reading and in the Gospel today.

In the first reading from the Book of Kings, we hear a wonderful story about the prophet Elisha. Elisha is the successor of Elijah, and he works all kinds of miracles and wonders. He is truly a strong and powerful prophet.

But the woman in the town of Shunem does not really know Elisha very well. She only has hints, perhaps an intuition, that he is an important person. And one of the questions in this story is: who is the true hero? Is it Elisha, this strong and mighty prophet? Or is it, as the author seems to suggest, the Shunammite woman?

In the Book of Kings, we find that as powerful and important as Elisha is, the Shunammite woman is also presented as a person of great importance, because she provides hospitality to Elisha and his servant, even though she does not fully know who he is. She treats them with respect, care, and welcome. And for this reason, she is blessed by the Lord.

In fact, in the Hebrew text, she is called an ishah gedolah, a great woman, a woman of standing and importance. The Shunammite woman is seen as someone of great value and honour because of the hospitality and welcome that she provides to Elisha, whom she does not yet know as this mighty prophet.

In the Gospel today, this theme of hospitality and welcome is deepened even further because of the Incarnation. Jesus teaches that welcoming the stranger, caring for those in need, and making space in our lives for those who are not familiar to us is so important because, in welcoming them, we welcome not only another human being; we welcome Christ himself.

As we heard in the Gospel, Jesus repeats this in various ways: those who welcome you welcome me. Those who show hospitality to you show hospitality to me. Those who give even a cup of water to one of these little ones do so for me.

In Christianity, then, hospitality is deeply important. When we show hospitality and welcome to the stranger, we do it to Jesus.

This has been emphasized by many saints throughout Christian history. Again and again, we see this theme: in showing hospitality to others, we show hospitality to Christ.

I would like to give three examples.

The first is St. Benedict of Nursia. St. Benedict, who lived around the year 500, is famous for being the founder of Western monasticism. He wrote a very important document called the Rule of St. Benedict, a way of life for monks that is still followed to this day by Benedictine communities of both men and women.

For example, nearby we have the Benedictine monks in Mission, and they continue to follow the Rule of St. Benedict.

In the Rule, St. Benedict wrote: “All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ.” Those who come to the monastery, even if they simply arrive for a visit, are to be treated as Christ. The guest is to be received as Jesus himself.

About a thousand years later, we can look at another great example: St. Vincent de Paul. St. Vincent de Paul was famous for his works of charity, caring for the poor, the sick, the suffering, refugees, migrants, and those in need.

St. Vincent also recognized that there can sometimes seem to be a tension between prayer and charity. What do we do if our works of charity, if our acts of hospitality, seem to interrupt our time of prayer?

St. Vincent wrote the following: “If a needy person requires medicine or other help during prayer time, do whatever has to be done with peace of mind. Offer the deed to God as your prayer. Do not become upset or feel guilty because you interrupted your prayer to serve the poor. God is not neglected if you leave him for such service. One of God’s works is merely interrupted so that another can be carried out.”

St. Vincent proclaims this important truth: hospitality is not a distraction from loving God. It is one of the ways we love God. It is an important way of following Jesus’ commandment to love our neighbour.

In more recent times, we can look at the example of Dorothy Day, who died in 1980 and helped found the Catholic Worker Movement. She and others established houses of hospitality, places where the poor, the hungry, the homeless, and the forgotten could be welcomed.

Dorothy Day once wrote that in the early Christian tradition, “a room was kept ready for any stranger who might ask for shelter.” It was called “the stranger’s room,” not because the person who came reminded them of Christ, but because, as she put it, “plain and simple and stupendous fact,” he or she was Christ.

Hospitality, then, is so important. Showing care to people who are new, people who are different from us, people who are in need, is a way of showing care to Christ.

Pope Francis liked to describe this virtue of hospitality as part of a broader “culture of encounter.”

For Pope Francis, a culture of encounter was not simply about being friendly, or even about helping those in need, as important as that is. He wanted us to see every person, especially those in need, those who are different from us, those of a different culture, background, or way of life, not as problems or challenges, but as gifts to be encountered.

Every human being, especially those whom we might not instinctively see as part of our community, is a gift. We are called to encounter them, to get to know them, to make space for them, and to recognize the presence of God within them.

Pope Francis described a culture of encounter as being “passionate about meeting others, seeking points of contact, building bridges, planning a project that includes everyone.”

There are many ways we can promote this culture of encounter, this culture of hospitality, in our own lives.

When we see people who are new to our community, whether here in church, in our workplace, in our school, or simply out in the wider community, we can choose not to look at them with suspicion or nervousness. Instead, we can be curious. Who is this person? Where do they come from? What is their story? Can I treat them as a gift? Can I recognize the presence of God within them?

We are also very aware of the needs of those in our community who are unhoused, hungry, or struggling. Of course, we have organizations that assist, such as our St. Vincent de Paul group. And when we encounter someone in need, we may rightly think, “I need to do something to help.” But we should never lose sight of their humanity. We are not simply encountering a problem to be solved. We are encountering a person.

We also often come across people who think differently from us, who have a different religious viewpoint, a different political viewpoint, a different background, or a different way of life. Sometimes we may be tempted to exclude them from our lives, or to look at them with suspicion.

Pope Francis would encourage us to be curious, to listen, to get to know the person, to see them as a gift in themselves, and even more, to see Christ within them.

The readings today promote this great virtue of hospitality. For us as Christians, hospitality is so important because when we show care to the stranger, to those in need, to those who are not yet part of our family or community, we show care to Christ.

And as Pope Francis teaches us, the first step in building a culture of encounter is to stop seeing other people as threats, inconveniences, problems to be solved, or differences to be feared. Instead, we are called to see each person we encounter as a gift.

Christian hospitality is not simply making room for others. It is making room for Christ, who often comes to us in the stranger, the poor, the newcomer, and the person who interrupts our plans.