https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4paWe7h5yW4
Video reflection
by Carol Braun
Returning Gifts:
The Thirty-Third Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026
November 15, 2026
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Proverbs 31:10-31; Psalm 128; 1
Thessalonians 5:1-6; Matthew 25:14-30
The parable of the talents tells us what God expects of us; Paul's letter to the Thessalonians tells us why we should not delay. Because life is precious, unpredictable, and limited, we are called to live intentionally. We cannot afford to bury the gifts God has given us, postpone the good we can do, or sleep through life’s opportunities. The talents represent everything that has been entrusted to us: intelligence, creativity, compassion, faith, relationships, opportunities, and the capacity to love. Notice that God never tells us how to use what we have received; They are entrusted to us with room to exercise creativity, initiative, and discernment. These are opportunities for us to participate in God’s plan for the world.
Paul reminds us that the uncertainty of tomorrow gives greater significance to what we choose to do today. I think of some reasons why I often postpone things I would like to do. I’ll wait a week or so when I have more available time. I can get half an hour of rest rather than exercising. I’m not as young as I once was. My prayer life will deepen when activities settle down. I’ll spend more time with loved ones once I finish this project that needs my attention. I’ll be more generous when I have more resources. I can go on and justify all my reasons, and I know life does not always give me the time or circumstances I expect. Something else always comes up.
Life and time have genuine limitations. We have to choose. We cannot do everything or respond to every need. God is not asking us to exhaust ourselves or to measure our worth by productivity. We discern what is most important and how I can make the greatest contribution to others with the circumstances and resources I have. We ask if there is fear, hesitation, or the pursuit of perfectionism that will prevent me from doing some good now. What causes me to procrastinate? This is not about trying to do it all or accomplishing the greatest number of activities. It is about making our lives fruitful. God’s life will flourish through the talents entrusted to us. Sometimes the best use of our time is to be human – to encourage someone who is down, to support someone who feels vulnerable, and sit and listen patiently. These moments are an exponential investment that produces a hundredfold.
We are
not given life simply to preserve it; we are given life to make something
meaningful of it. The challenge is to recognize that our lives have a purpose,
and that we have something valuable to contribute now. When we use our gifts
appropriately and generously, we are not simply repaying God for what God has
given us. The gifts we receive become gifts we give. We are the gifts to be
shared.
We live as though there will always be more time. We live as if we will never become diminished or die. We think there will be more time in the future to love better, to forgive a grievance, to reconcile an estranged relationship, to sit with someone who needs our presence. There will not be more time. This is what we have. We are to spend the time to become the people God wants us to be. Jesus tells us not to bury our talents. Paul tells us not to fall asleep. They are both urging the importance of the present moment.
What do we do then? I am asked to develop the gifts God has entrusted to me. You have to answer that in a way that gives you most integrity. Has someone’s life become richer because I was here? Has someone’s burden become lighter? Have I given hope to someone who needs to be strengthened? We want to be “woke.” We want to be aware of God’s presence and be willing to invest whatever gifts we have received. We want to see God at the end of our lives, with empty hands, to say, “I have invested everything you have given to me. I have nothing left. I have loved as fully as I could. I have done my best.”
and in my beginning again,
no matter how often I’ve failed before.
Help me to make beginnings:
to begin going out of my weary mind
into fresh dreams,
daring to make my own bold tracks
in the land of now;
to begin forgiving
that I may experience mercy,
to begin questioning the unquestionable
that I may know truth
to begin disciplining
that I may create beauty;
to begin sacrificing
that I may make peace;
to begin loving
that I may realize joy.
Help me to be a beginning to others,
to be a singer to the songless,
a storyteller to the aimless,
a befriender of the friendless;
to become a beginning of hope for the despairing,
of assurance for the doubting,
of reconciliation for the divided;
to become a beginning of freedom for the oppressed,
of comfort for the sorrowing,
of friendship for the forgotten,
to become a beginning of beauty for the forlorn,
of sweetness for the soured,
of gentleness for the angry,
of wholeness for the broken,
of peace for the frightened and violent of the earth.
Help me to believe in beginnings,
to make a beginning,
to be a beginning,
so that I may not just grow old,
but grow new
each day of this wild, amazing life
you call me to live
with the passion of Jesus Christ.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SMpEsy2SSc
November
15, 2026
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Lori
Stanley
As
this year draws to a close, our readings invite us to consider what it means to
wait actively for Christ’s coming.
We
hear about the worthy wife in Proverbs 31, who is industrious, resourceful,
generous, and attentive to the needs of her husband, household and community.
She is praised not simply for what she accomplishes, but because she lives out
her faith.
In
First Thessalonians, Paul reminds us that the day of the Lord will come “like a
thief in the night.” We do not need to obsess over the date or time. Instead,
we are called to be “children of the light” and “children of the day.” We are
called to be alert.
And in
Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells the Parable of the Talents. A master entrusts his
possessions to three servants before leaving on a journey. Two servants take
risks with what they have been given and multiply it. The third buries his
talent in the ground, afraid of losing what was entrusted to him.
Three
readings. Three invitations. And one question that connects them all: Where
is our heart in the waiting?
Because
waiting can be uncomfortable, we want answers. We want certainty. We want to
know that we are doing the right thing and that our efforts will produce the
results we hope for.
And
sometimes, in our desire to be faithful, we become so busy doing things for
God that we forget to be with God.
We
begin measuring our worth by our accomplishments, our productivity, and our
usefulness to others. We compare our gifts with others. We wonder whether we
are doing enough, and whether we are enough.
And
without realizing it, we can begin to bury the very gifts God has entrusted to
us—not because we lack ability, but because we are afraid.
Afraid
of making a mistake. Afraid of failing. Afraid of what others might think.
We
stay in what is familiar. We cling to the identities we have constructed, the
plans we have carefully made, and the accomplishments that help us feel secure.
But is
that where God is calling us to remain?
The
Gospel Acclamation offers us a different posture. Jesus says, “Remain in me as
I remain in you. Whoever remains in me bears much fruit.”
Notice
what Jesus does not say. He does not say, “Produce more fruit so that I will
love you.” He invites us to remain in Him.
Just
as a branch cannot bear fruit unless it remains connected to the vine, neither
can we bear the lasting fruit of God’s love when we are spiritually
disconnected from the source of that love.
Waiting
becomes an opportunity for becoming. While we wait, God invites us to deepen
our awareness of whose we are: beloved daughters and sons of God. We are not
loved because of what we accomplish. How we imagine God loving us affects how
we imagine ourselves, which subsequently affects how we live. If we imagine God
as disappointed in us whenever we fall short, we may become afraid to take
risks.
Something
begins to shift when we begin to encounter God as the One who loves us
unconditionally. The One who calls us forth, not to earn our belovedness, but
because we are already beloved, made in the image and likeness of God.
We
loosen our grip on comparison. We stop looking at others’ gifts and begin
looking within. We ask, “God, show me how you see me. What have you entrusted
to me? What gifts, experiences, and graces have you placed inside of me? How
are you inviting me to share them?”
In the
Parable of the Talents, the master entrusts different amounts to each servant,
“each according to his ability.”
There
is no instruction to compare. The servants are not asked to produce identical
results. They are entrusted with something valuable and invited to respond.
The
first two servants act. They take risks. They allow what they have received to
grow.
Fear
becomes the reason for inaction as the third servant buries what he has been
given.
The
parable challenges us to look within. What have we buried because we were
afraid? What gift have we kept hidden because we thought someone else was more
qualified? What invitation have we resisted because we could not guarantee the
outcome?
God is
not asking us to become someone else. God is calling us to become more fully
who you and I were created to be.
This
means moving beyond the false identities and limiting beliefs we may have
carried for years—sometimes shaped by our family-of-origin experiences, painful
relationships, or the ways we learned to protect ourselves.
Those
experiences may help explain our fears, but they do not have to determine our
future.
God
continues to call us forth from the places where fear keeps us small. God
invites us out of the familiar boat of false security and into the
sometimes-choppy waters of trust, where comparison no longer has the final word
and our imagination can be expanded to how God sees us and loves through us.
While
we wait, we are called to faithful readiness.
To
live as children of the light means remaining close to Christ, attentive to
God's presence, and awake to the needs of the world around us. Like the woman
in Proverbs, may we put our faith into practice. Like the faithful servants,
may we use what has been entrusted to us. And like branches connected to the
vine, may we bear spiritual fruit that nourishes others and carries God's love
beyond ourselves.
As
this year draws to a close, let’s continue pondering the questions:
Where
is my heart in the waiting?
Who is God inviting me to become?
The Thirty-Second Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026
November 8, 2026
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Wisdom 6:12-16; Psalm 63; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13
While the Gospel passage on the five wise virgins models for us the attentiveness needed for discipleship, the first reading focuses on the value of wisdom who likewise keeps vigil. It is wisdom special love for the Lord that makes her always watchful and filled with hope. This is the hope that comes through in the reading from Paul to the Thessalonians. A believer filled with wisdom always has hope.
We are in the month of All Souls when we commemorate our deceased loved ones, and we reflect upon our lives as we know that each of us will experience death. Death asks the question: In what do we hope? For a Christian, we know that while we are alive to God today, we will be alive to God after our death. What does that mean? Because of the death and resurrection of Christ, death no longer has the final word. Our relationship with God is not destroyed by death, and those who die in Christ are always remembered.
When a loved one dies, we might wonder about these types of questions. Will I see my parents, spouse, children, or friends once again? What happens to my body? Will I still be myself after death? What happens to a person after a lifetime of suffering, disability, or illness? How does God treat the person who was hurtful to me? What happens to those people whose faith was uncertain? These are natural questions to ask. Jesus revealed to us that God seeks us, forgives us, loves us, and has altered the state of death when God raised Jesus to new life. The resurrection reveals God’s intention for humanity – not abandonment, but communion, not destruction, but transformation, not the finality of death, but the fulfillment of life in God. We trust that this God will be faithful to us beyond the limits of our earthly lives.
During times of death, we ask, “What will happen to our loved ones,” and maybe we can ask, “What does it mean to be alive to God today?” Our destiny is to live in the fulness of God’s love, and we are called to start living this way right now. We are called to become more loving, more compassionate, more forgiving, and more generous. God’s life becomes visible in our own. Our earthly lives are the beginning of a life that is meant to grow in love, and we learn to live in a way that reflects God’s values. We live in God’s grace, and we must respond to that grace. When we do so, our lives become increasingly receptive to God’s love. The love we have given during this lifetime matters. Death does not wipe out or make the goodness of our lives meaningless. The lives we have touched matters. The goodness we received and passed on matters. We trust that God who has been drawing us deeper into divine life will bring to fulfillment what God has begun.
Naturally, we do not want to encounter death, and death of a loved one brings much loss and pain. For a believer, death cannot separate us from the God who loves us or from our loved ones. Love is an unknown power whose strength is greater than death. Our hope is based on the God that was revealed in Jesus Christ. Our loved ones are held within God’s love as we will be – warmly, tenderly, gently cherished. God, who is at work in us now calling us to a fulness of life, will bring the promise of the resurrection to fulfillment.
We do not know everything about what happens when we die, but we trust that the God who has given us life and drawn us into love will remember us and give us an even fuller life. We have comfort in the assurance that our final destiny rests in the hands of our God who is faithful, loving, and the source of all life. We are alive to God now, and we place our hope in being fully alive to God forever.
God of peace,
We pray that you bless all those who have served their country through service in the armed forces. Grant healing to those veterans who have been wounded, be it in body, mind or soul.
We pray especially for those young men and women who come home to lives of suffering and loneliness. Offer them the solace that only You can, and may we pray for them often, especially when they feel they cannot pray. As a way to honor all the veterans of past wars, we ask for an end to wars and the dawning of a new era of peace.
Lord, have mercy. Bring peace to our hearts, the hearts of all veterans and to the regions in which they fought. Grant, we pray, the creative vision to see a world that, weary with fighting, affirms the life of every human being and so moves beyond war.
Prince of peace, hear our prayer,
The Thirty-First Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026
November 1, 2026
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Revelation7:2-14; Psalm 24; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12
This feast of All Saints Day is a celebration of what God can accomplish in human beings when they allow divine grace to transform their lives. When we think of the saints, we often think of people who accomplished remarkable things, who gave great sacrifice for others, or who possessed a holiness that seems far beyond our own reach. We admire them and often hold them on a high pedestal. Saints have never been perfect or otherworldly; they are witnesses to God's generosity. Their holiness reveals what happens when God's grace is welcomed and allowed to transform a human life.
The Beatitudes reveal the type of people God calls us to become. It is not a recitation of who the saints were; it is a map for future life and a promise for those whose lives have begun to embody the Beatitudes as a way of being. We were created for communion with God and with one another. It is God’s way of calling us to a higher state of being. Heaven is the fulfillment of that calling: the blessedness of sharing God's life, where the love that we struggle to practice now is brought to its perfection.
We are invited to become fully alive in the generosity of God. We are called to become more human. Obeying rules and fulfilling religious obligation is expected, but holiness reaches deeper than outward behavior because it necessarily involves the transformation of our hearts, the deepening of relationships, the pursuit of our desires, and renewing the way we see other people. Jesus, through the Beatitudes, reveals what humanity looks like when it is open to God’s love. Jesus allows his way of loving to reshape our own humanity. Therefore, we do as Jesus did – welcome the excluded, forgive sins, heal the wounded, confront injustice, and put the needs of others before one’s own. Holiness does not separate us from our humanity but fulfills it. Saints did not reject the world; they immersed themselves in the struggles of the day.
Our holiness demands that we allow a diminished humanity to be transformed by grace. How do we do that? Here are some examples. Instead of seeing others as competitors, we recognize the other as a person of dignity who is in communion with us. Instead of protecting ourselves at all costs and putting up barriers, we discover the freedom of generosity. Instead of grasping our grudges and resentments tightly, we become open to the idea of forgiveness. Instead of seeking recognition and superiority, we find meaning in humble service. Instead of turning a blind eye to someone’s suffering and allowing ourselves to become indifferent, we enter the chaos of another person and allow that person’s suffering to change us. Instead of treating differences as threats, we discover the delight of being in communion. Instead of living primarily for our own satisfaction, we recognize our responsibility to and for one another. Our holiness is the transformation of our humanity through full participation in the life and love of God. We are unfinished in our “becoming.” God is continually inviting us into a deeper, more generous, more loving way of life. Our lives become transformed because we become more deeply alive in the presence of God.
We often begin to think about heaven because this month is for the remembrance of All Souls. Heaven is not simply the reward for having lived a good life. Heaven is not about a place or being in a better location. Heaven is the fulfillment of our relationship with God. It is the happy contentment of sharing in God’s life, knowing God as fully as we can, and loving without the limitations that we have in our life today. The Beatitudes is God’s way of preparing us for the fulness of heaven by transforming our lives here and now.
We interrupt this war for doctors to heal,
teachers to teach, and students to learn.
Great God, who has told us
"Vengeance is mine,"
save us from ourselves,
save us from the vengeance in our hearts
and the acid in our souls.
Save us from our desire to hurt as we have been hurt,
to punish as we have been punished,
to terrorize as we have been terrorized.
Give us the strength it takes
to listen rather than to judge,
to trust rather than to fear,
to try again and again
to make peace even when peace eludes us.
We ask, O God, for the grace
to be our best selves.
We ask for the vision
to be builders of the human community
rather than its destroyers.
We ask for the humility as a people
to understand the fears and hopes of other peoples.
We ask for the love it takes
to bequeath to the children of the world to come
more than the failures of our own making.
We ask for the heart it takes
to care for all the peoples
as well as for ourselves.
Give us the depth of soul, O God,
to constrain our might,
to resist the temptations of power
to refuse to attack the attackable,
to understand
that vengeance begets violence,
and to bring peace--not war--wherever we go.
For You, O God, have been merciful to us.
For You, O God, have been patient with us.
For You, O God, have been gracious to us.
And so may we be merciful
and patient
and gracious
and trusting
with these others whom you also love.
This we ask through Jesus,
the one without vengeance in his heart.
This we ask forever and ever. Amen
- Sister Joan Chittister - Benedictine Sisters of Erie
+ + +
The
Twenty-Ninth Sunday of Ordinary Time 2026
October
18, 2026
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Isaiah
45:1-6; Psalm 96; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-5; Matthew 22:15-21
In prior weeks, we have heard Matthew’s parables on the Kingdom
of God, and as those instructions conclude, the Pharisees plot against Jesus by
trying to trip him up with his own words. Jesus responds by showing us that
through all of life’s conflicts and stressed situations, we can think
expansively and not be forced into one of two choices. He encourages
discernment.
Jesus does not ask us to choose between belonging to God and
participating in the world. He invites us to understand how these two
commitments belong together. We are called to engage, to live fully, in civil
society as people who belong to God, allowing our faith to inform the way we
participate. The Pharisees try to trap Jesus between a false choice between
religious faithfulness and civic responsibility. The trap is designed to
position him as one who either supports Roman occupation and Caesar’s authority
or of opposing the Roman government. He does not accept the Pharisee’s terms.
Navigating both options is still a choice. How do we live fully in the world
without allowing the world’s forces to determine everything we value and
believe?
Many Christians because of this reading divide their lives into
separate compartments and stand over and against the world. They see the world
as bad and contrary to God’s plan. Jesus is not saying that. In fact, he
challenges that division. Our relationship with God is not meant to be an
isolated part of our lives. It influences how we work, how we treat and speak
to people, how we exercise authority, and how we contribute to the common good.
A Christian does not check one’s faith at the door when entering the workplace,
in dealing with political actions or elections, paying taxes, raising a family,
or dealing with people whose fundamental beliefs differ for one’s own. These
are the places where one’s discipleship becomes visible. Faith does not
separate us from the world but asks us to inhabit the world differently.
Jesus acknowledges that Caesar has legitimate claims. Civil
society requires people to share responsibilities, support necessary
institutions, and contribute to the well-being of the community. Civil
authority has a vital place in our lives. Government, institutions, and
economic systems serve important purposes and assist the common good. It does
not have ultimate authority over our consciences, human dignity, or our moral
commitments. Civil society cannot take the place of God. Civic responsibility
involves thoughtful participation, respect for legitimate authority, and a
conscience formed by the Gospel. Civil governments often support fundamental
human values. When laws, practices, or cultural customs conflict with moral
responsibilities, we may need to speak, act, and sometimes, civilly refuse to
cooperate.
Let’s turn back to the coin for a moment. The image of Caesar is
stamped on the coin. Jesus invites us to see beyond the coin itself and ask,
“What bears the image of God?” The human person does. We owe God our very
selves. Our minds, hearts, talents and relationships are not to be separated
from God. Our capacity to love is an extraordinary gift. Our responsibility to
God is inseparable from the way we treat others, and we do this is civic
society. We cannot claim to know and to honor God while disregarding the
dignity of our neighbor. We cannot say we know God and remain indifferent to
injustice, discrimination, inequity, or suffering. The way we treat others
shows how well we know God. Our commitment to God is concrete when we honor
God’s image in one another.
We do not only serve God through individual prayer and worship
or practicing liturgy in a particular way. We serve God through the way we
build society in which human dignity is respected, in which responsibilities
are collegially shared, and in which people can flourish together. The two
commitments of that coin are inseparable. We receive our fullness when we come
together with shared lives. We are an above and beyond people who unite and
integrate our worlds to the honor of God and neighbor.