St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church | Reflections

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday of Easter, Year A, April 19, 2026

Fri, 17 Apr 2026 23:03:12 GMT

Emmaus was a city in the Shephelah or “lowland” of Palestine, noted for several Jewish historic conquests. In 166 BC, it was the site of the victory of Judas over Gorgias in 1st Maccabees 4:1-22, including the first Old Testament reference to the resurrection. Earlier, Joshua had defeated the Canaanite league around this region (Joshua 10). It was also where the Samson’s exploits occurred, as well as David’s duel with Goliath. It’s mostly a residential part of town with limestone foothills that made the area fortified against enemy attacks. Emmaus is the earthly city.

In today’s account of Jesus’ appearance, Luke doesn’t tell us why the two disciples are going to Emmaus or whether they reside there. However, Luke’s reference to the town might point to its relative importance as a hideaway or “cool off” town from the buzzing in Jerusalem. The two disciples appear to be leaving behind the ‘spiritual angst’ of Jerusalem with a ‘failed Messianic hope’ in Jesus, an empty tomb, and a hollow echo to the mundane fortifications of the limestone foothills of Emmaus. It is a journey from the spiritual height to a disappointing spiritual lowland. Little do they realize that the Lord who gave His people a number of victories near Emmaus is on the way with them to make their troubled hearts burn within them . He will turn their bread of tears into a joyful presence, and return them to the beauty of spiritual elation. Hence, they’ll hurriedly leave the ‘lowland’ (Emmaus), and return to the spiritual highlands of Jerusalem with the joyful news of His presence.

The Eucharistic motif of this story is unmistakable. Every Eucharistic gathering echoes Emmaus. Christ inspires us with words of scripture, and breaks His journey to be with us at the evening of our lives, when we have grown weary. The Church adapted the words of the two disciples in her prayer: “Mane nobiscum Domine, quoniam advesperascit”—“Stay with us Lord, for the evening falls. ” As we offer gifts of bread and wine to the welcome guest of our soul, He breaks the Bread of Presence and shows Himself to us. With joy, we go out to announce Him in the heights. He’ll continue to walk seven days a week with us and our Christian neighbor, as He walked seven miles with Cleopas and his unnamed companion. He already told us that where two or three of us are gathered, He’ll be there with us (Matt 18:20). He’ll speak words that burn within our hearts, until our journey finds us once again at a new Emmaus (another Sunday), where we break bread and experience His Real Presence.

It is easy to notice that the Mass was modeled after the Emmaus journey, with the two parts of the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. At the outset of the first part, we lay our disappointments, failures, negligence, and contrite heart in the Penitential Rite , as the two disciples on the road to Emmaus told Him about their failed hopes. In the Readings of the Day , we listen to Him as He draws from scripture a tapestry of God’s salvific mystery realized in Him. Every good Homily should make our hearts burn within us. At the Universal Prayer , we invoke Him, like the two disciples to stay with His Church, at this evening of life and be our welcome guest. The second part of Mass starts with Offertory , where we offer bread and wine and gifts from our treasury of His blessings. At Consecration , He takes the bread, blesses it, and breaks it. At Holy Communion , He opens our eyes to recognize His presence. Ite Misa Est is a call to carry the joy of the Lord’s presence to the wearied, the sick in need of His healing, the unbeliever to whom we reveal Christ’s light.

Why was He revealed only at the breaking of bread, and not when He spoke to them? Because our faith would not terminate at the Table of the Word . The real presence of the resurrected Christ is perceived only at the Eucharistic Table; that is why the Church calls the Eucharist, “the source and summit of our Christian life.” Next time you’re at Mass, try to locate yourself in Emmaus.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 2nd Sunday of Easter (Sunday of Divine Mercy), Year A, April 12, 2026

Sat, 11 Apr 2026 16:19:28 GMT

You’ll perhaps think that if Jesus had shown Himself to more people besides His disciples, everyone would believe that He rose from the dead. Suppose He made sudden appearances at Herod’s palace, at Pilate’s and Caiaphas’s, and showed up at the temple, that would be impressive; but He would need to perform more feats. Even if He dashes into the Synagogue in Capernaum like a conquering war general, disrupt the Torah lesson of the day and frighten observers with portents that show Him as the enemy they couldn’t conquer, that would not have been enough to make everyone believe He’s the Messiah? To win over the crowd by miracles would require unending miracles. The resurrection did in fact frighten the guards stationed at the tomb who reported their experience to the chief priests. Yet, the effort by the chief priests to bribe them so they could lie about the resurrection, and the press release by the authorities: “His disciples came during the night and stole him away while the guards were asleep” (Mtt 28:11) show that no amount of physical evidence would have been enough to convince the Jews. Something different would be required—namely, faith.

Today’s appearance of Jesus to the apostles touches on a number of themes. He came to make peace with them; hence, they were filled with joy when they saw the Lord. He also meant to confirm their faith in Him. Therefore, He breathes on them the breath of the Holy Spirit, through whose power they will become witnesses of the resurrection. He commissions them to continue the work He began. We heard Luke report in the first reading that the community they left behind devoted themselves to (1) the teaching of the apostles (2) to a communal life (3) to the breaking of bread, that is, to the celebration of Mass, and (4) to prayers. His appearance was also a salutary lesson on the fragility of human nature and an assurance of divine mercy. These men must have been extremely embarrassed at their tepidity, denials and abandonment of their Friend and Master. Their hearts must have reeled in utter shame and remorse. But He forgives them, and right there, commands them to forgive others in His name. By this He establishes an avenue or sacrament of God’s mercy. Hence, this Sunday all over the world has been designated ‘Divine Mercy Sunday.’

A disciple, therefore, is one called to carry the message of God’s mercy to a world that is broken, yet claims self-sufficiency. He will have to contend with a powerful force that opposes God with the agenda to destroy faith.

Our first glimmer of Him attempting to confront the world’s modus operandi came with the reaction of Thomas to the report by his fellow apostles. Thomas represents the world—the so-called scientific community—for whom the criteria for truth and any possible cognition of reality will be limited to concrete observable data. Hence, if you cannot touch, feel or measure it, then that idea falls within the realm of unverifiable conjecture to be rejected. Yet, the second appearance to Thomas reveals more than effort at evidentiary proof. Here, Thomas represents each one of us with a tinge of vertigo, an inner restlessness or torment which requires destruction in order that it might be refashioned by the risen Lord. Christ makes clear that beatitude is guaranteed only by faith: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe” (John 21:29). Faith will become a struggle to overcome the collective mentality of the world, its fears and anxieties, its vanities and lusts, and its refusal to undergo the destruction to which it’s destined in order to be recast in the image of Christ. Thomas’ inquiry turns to a prayer that the Lord may assuage our inner restlessness and give solidity and permanence to our faith in Him. At the revelation of Jesus, Thomas exclaimed, “My Lord and my God.” John makes the point that the exchange between Jesus and Thomas is a story told to help us “believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, so that through this faith you may have life in him.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Easter Sunday, Year A, April 5, 2026

Thu, 02 Apr 2026 23:47:01 GMT

I recommend that every Christian should have on their bucket list of things to do before they die, two pilgrimages: one to Rome, specifically for the celebration of Easter, and another to Jerusalem for the celebration of Holy Week. It’ll be a kind of ‘reverse pilgrimage’ to attend the Easter event in Rome before the Passion pilgrimage in the Holy Land. Conventional wisdom would suggest doing it the other way round, but that’s not how majority of us started our faith journey. We first became believers before we learned what we believed; something like St. Anselm’s “fides quaerens intellectum” (faith seeking understanding) or like an adopted child growing up in her adopted family, then after many years goes in search of her natural parents. An Easter pilgrimage to Rome will find you one among nearly half a million Christians at the vast piazza of St. Peter’s Basilica. You’ll be stunned at the number of people who share the same faith as you, especially when after Mass, the pope greets you and your fellow Christians, “Happy Easter” in different languages to loud cheers and applause. You’ll be amazed at the unity expressed at the one altar of the Risen Lord.

Your next pilgrimage to celebrate Holy Week in the Holy Land will certainly be subdued as you’re led to the actual sites of Jesus’ Passion, Death and Resurrection. If a walk through the “Via Dolorosa” on Good Friday doesn’t leave tears in your eyes, you should see a therapist because you may not be truly human. You’ll also see that Jesus remains a sign of contradiction for that land when you notice that there’s still division among different Christian sects who claim a section of the churches to themselves. Many a time, fights will break out between the Franciscans and the Greek Orthodox or the Armenians and the Syriac Orthodox. Several Jewish (or Arab merchants) will yell at you to buy fake Christian artifacts—just for the money. Remember, they still think Jesus was an impostor, and their Messiah is yet to arrive. And your greatest misery will come from seeing the staggering Dome of the Rocks —the largest religious edifice in Jerusalem—a mosque, erected on the Temple Mount, from where Muslims claim Mohamed ascended into heaven. (I must have spoiled your Easter). You can see why I suggested the Rome pilgrimage first.

Yet, everything I’ve told you is true. There is about 20 centuries separating the events you experience in Rome and the ones in Palestine, but there’s a tapestry of connection between them. The sad events in Jerusalem gave rise to the joy of Rome. The Hosanna and Alleluia you hear in Rome are, after all, Hebrew words, but they resound everywhere they’re announced; they have remained words untranslatable. During my visit to Korea years ago, they were the only words I understood at Mass.

Truly, a radical overturning of the entire history of humanity took place this morning. There’s hardly one of us who has not experienced the death of a loved one or friend or someone we admire. I can give anything possible to have my mother back to life. Yet, for me, the consequences of Jesus’ resurrection remain enormous or even incalculable. A new kind of existence which cannot end for my mom or our departed loved ones is ushered in for all of us. It’s as if some sort of implacable, underground vitality surfaced from the innermost depths of humanity, flooding everything and imposing itself irresistibly on us (Motte). Though I still fear bodily death, I’m assured that death would not annihilate me; rather, it has been turned to a tool for my transformation unto glory. And the greatest news is that sin is conquered . My failures that stream from a complicity with entrenchment to worldly power and security, which constantly beguile human existence has been dealt a fatal blow. The resurrection of Christ has defused this seductive power of sin and granted me freedom through His life-giving Spirit. Happy Easter to you all!!!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Year A, March 29, 2026

Sat, 28 Mar 2026 01:02:37 GMT

Psalm 122:3 says: “Jerusalem is built as a city strongly compact; it is there that the tribes GO UP, the tribes of the Lord.” And so, there’s this imagery of Jerusalem as a city to which people go up. From whichever direction you’re taking to Jerusalem, you’re going up. Located 2400 feet above sea level, Jerusalem, the ancient city remains the center of religious activities in the world. If the war would allow it, the Patriarch of Jerusalem Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa will ride a donkey into the city. The teaming number of pilgrims who normally participate in this time-honored annual ritual recall with great emotion the event that took place at that same road nearly 2000 years ago. From there too, one can see the Mount of Olives towering even higher by almost 300 feet, named after the olive groves that once covered its slopes. The Kidron Valley , also mentioned today is found between Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives . It is deep and dangerous, with peaks and valleys that, without question, would create the aura of the slips and tumbles, the highs and lows of the drama of salvation that we reenact today. Also, right at the base of the Mount of Olives is the Garden of Gethsemani, where Jesus sweat blood, the apostles slept, and the ultimate betrayal by Judas took place. A large surface rock at this garden has been used to form the sanctuary of the Church of All Nations to remind us that the love we celebrate today reaches to the ends of the earth.

The liturgical name for today is Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, juxtaposing the victory of redemptive love and the fatality of ancient pride. Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday thus marks the beginning of the Christian Holy Week after the long period of Lenten fast and prayer. Today, the Church enters the most important week in the life of believers when the entire event of salvation becomes real in Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection.

Jesus enters as a triumphant king into His city, Jerusalem, the city of destiny. Yet, there’s much less to indicate triumph. He chose to ride not a horse but a beast of burden. Roman military generals rode on horses when returning from successful expeditions. The donkey reflected the animal of the poor. The singing of Hosanna (in Hebrew: “Save us, we pray”), the spreading of cloaks and branches did not take His focus away from what awaited Him.

The drama of His conviction, sentencing, inhumane treatment by the Jews and Roman soldiers that culminated to His death cannot fail to move the heart once it is read. Regardless how many times you’ve heard it, each time it is read, we feel our spirit moved as whenever we watch The Passion of the Christ by Mel Gibson. The death of the Lord was followed by earthquakes, tombs splitting open, and the raising of the dead, as we heard in Matthew’s account today. These events caused those hired to keep watch over Him to cry, “Truly, this was the Son of God.” But the most important lesson is to realize that Jesus needn’t suffer so grievously if not for our sins.

Hearing these words today and looking at Jesus hung on the cross, we should sense the full gravity of sin. According to Sheen, a personal equation must be established between the crucifix and us, where each of us should read his or her autobiography. We see our pride in the crown of thorns, our lusts and carnality in the nail and the torn flesh, sins of avarice in the poverty and nakedness, our wandering from the path of goodness and forgetfulness of God in the pierced feet, our thievery in the riven hands, and our sins of alcoholism in the thirst.

God’s love and infinite mercy is also written there as part of our autobiography. The cross is the parchment on which it is written and Christ’s blood is the ink with which it is written. By His wounds we’re healed; by His blood, we’re ransomed. Right there on the cross, He forgave our sins and nailed them finally. Our hearts are filled with wonder and gratitude at so great a gift.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 5th Sunday of Lent, Year A, March 22, 2026

Thu, 19 Mar 2026 03:35:49 GMT

It was still dark as I was returning from early Mass at the convent. As I pulled to the driveway of the rectory, a middle-aged man was standing there looking downcast. I could read intense trepidation in his face. I didn’t recognize him as a member of St. Andrew’s (the parish I was serving then). I drew close and asked why he looked awestruck. He started: “Reverend Father Sir, please help me; I just woke from a terrible dream.” Taking him to a corner where there was a bench, we sat, and I said, “Relax and share the experience with me.” He continued: “Fr., I dreamt that I died. I saw myself laid in state. Everyone was coming to view my corpse. Suddenly, the casket was closed on me, and then, and then...I saw myself lowered into the grave and in just seconds, heaps of sand falling on me. Then I woke up.” He ended with a plea: “Fr., is there something you can do about it? Let this not happen to me.” I did my best to hold my laughter. I asked if he was a parishioner to which he answered in the affirmative. I told him that I hadn’t seen him anytime around the parish. He concurred and added that I won’t remember that three years before, I had baptized his son. That ceremony was the last time Tim stepped into any Church. “What about confession and communion?” I asked. It was the morning he was to wed his wife—18 years before—that the priest pulled Tim aside and heard his unprepared confession. The rest of the story is that I had before me a walking spiritual corpse who’d been rotting in a grave for 41 years. The dream was a knock by Christ on Tim’s tomb to wake him from death, unbind him, so he could live again. I visited St. Andrew’s a couple of years ago and saw Tim. He rushed out and gave me a big hug and told me he was the chairperson of St. Andrew’s Lay Discipleship. He said he was grateful for the dream that liberated him from the chains of death and the grave. Quite a long story; quite a resurrection story!

“Do you hear this knock on your own grave?” Maybe you are someone, who today are wearing the accoutrements of death and need to be freed. Sin does hold its captives in chains. Lack of prayer and spirituality, pride, forgetfulness of God, impurity, love of money and security, consumerism, and neglect of the poor are all outfits of death and form a huge stone at the door of a sin-laden soul. Would you permit today that the stone be rolled away? Martha complained that Lazarus’ body would have started smelling after four days. Your soul could be as stinking as Lazarus’ dead body. No perfume can cure the smell of a sin-smeared soul. Only the Lord can roll away the stone and smear you with the scent of freedom, wholeness, and holiness. Hugh of St. Victor said: “Damp wood kindles slowly...so are our carnal hearts. Touch them with the spark of the fear of God, or Divine Love, and the great clouds of evil passions and rebellious desires roll upwards. Then the soul grows stronger, the flame of love burns more hotly and brightly, the smoke of passion dies down, and the purified spirit rises to the contemplation of Truth.” Men are not free until they are set free by Christ. Death, grave, sin, slavery, oppression, and even law equally hold men and women in chains. By swapping these chains with that of Christ we become truly free, for “only the Christ-fettered are free” (Sheen).

Lazarus’ resurrection is not the resurrection that we await—he had to die again to attain that resurrection. His resurrection is one that is repeated each time we enter with true sorrow into the confessional. There, the grave is busted and new life is gained. That is why the Church refers to baptism and penance as sacraments of the dead; they are sacraments given to those who are spiritually dead because of sin. Lent is a sure invitation to repentance that leads from death to life. Where sinful decay has set in, Lent and repentance bring rebirth and a flowering of Easter joy, especially for our dear brothers and sisters who are to be born again at the Easter sacraments.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 4th Sunday of Lent, Year A, March 15, 2026

Sat, 14 Mar 2026 01:52:32 GMT

Imagine that all of us were blind with the exception of the Thompson’s, and they tell us that they could see the sun appear in the morning, and after twelve hours of daylight there’s night. Would we believe them? A fraction of us may, but there’s a large number who would tag their claim “delusional.” With our knowledge of psychometry, we can statistically poll the number of people who strongly agree or not, and infer that since we’re blind, they ought to be blind, too. If they hold to that claim and say that there’s something like a rainbow, a blue sky and green trees, we’ll suggest that their claim was a complex based on wishful thinking and propose they see a therapist to cure them of their curious wish for color.

This is the attitude of people who live in sin and unhappiness, who call divine truth a superstition or a myth? In their arrogance and blindness, they turn their backs on God with familiar statements, like: “I believe only what I see, feel or touch; ...I make my own decisions about what is right or wrong; ...there is no God; or at best, he is absentminded; ...the Church is a bunch of power-hungry men who love to control others, especially women; ...priests are hypocrites and creepy men who sleep with children, etc.” A little extra wealth will make some boast that they’re happy here, and have no need of heaven hereafter.

Compare this attitude to that of the Pharisees in today’s Gospel. They were convinced that there was no way Jesus could be the Christ and added a threat: “If anyone acknowledged Him as the Christ, he would be expelled from the synagogue.” So, when the former blind beggar told them that Jesus could be the Christ, they quipped: “Are you trying to teach us?” And because he was born blind, they added an insult: “You were born totally in sin.” But that man had much better vision than they did. His healing came progressively, unlike Christ’s other miracles. He was first healed of physical blindness, then followed the miracle of spiritual sight, which also happened progressively. In the first miracle, he gradually started to see physical objects like everyone else, but in the second, faith was awoken in him; he had a spiritual insight that put him above, especially, the “blind-know-it-all-Pharisees.”

Today’s miracle is a reminder that spiritual blindness wreaks more havoc than mere physical blindness. A man or woman caught up in the blind alleys of hatred, resentment, prejudice, passion and falsehood may refuse to see a better world. For example, you would have noticed that majority in today’s media, of either persuasion, suffer from such terrible blindness that it would require extraordinary divine intervention to dig them out of the dark alleys in which they’re trapped: Pure demonic infestation of anger, hatred, and hysteria.

The blind man of today has something to teach all of us: we need to progressively encounter Jesus anew. In his case, the progression is made from seeing Jesus as a mere man to seeing Him as a prophet . Eventually, when his spiritual sight is totally restored, his gift of faith proves even more miraculous than his physical sight, when he says, “I believe you are the Christ.” Like him, we received at the baptismal font the gift of faith, curing us of our spiritual blindness. We grew with that, and as our faith matured, our perception of Jesus also matured. We’ll keep maturing till our perception of Jesus reaches its richest form. The exciting thing about Jesus is that the more we learn about Him, the greater He becomes. Sadly, in other relationships, the more we learn about our wife, husband, friend, or neighbor, the more their shortcomings are revealed.

Going back to our earlier story, suppose one of the Thompson’s who could see becomes so ridiculed that she finally plucks out her eyes. That would correspond to abandoning one’s faith because of the derision of the world. This Lent, resolve never to judge your life by the candlelight of the mediocrity and ordinariness of your spiritually blind neighbors; instead, glow in Divine Light.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday of Lent, Year A, March 8, 2026

Sat, 07 Mar 2026 18:19:04 GMT

Life came from water , or as Thales of Miletus philosophized, “Water is the urstoff of all things,” and it appears the Lord agrees. When He asked the Samaritan woman for water, He needed that commodity which was most essential to life. Nothing can replace a person’s thirst for water: not Coke, not wine, tea or juice. Water is the basic amenity which we didn’t make and which we cannot live without. The Igbos of South-eastern Nigeria have a saying: “Mmiri enwe iro” (water has no enemy); so, when it rains, it doesn’t discriminate. Water is so gentle that it follows the line of least resistance. But when ruffled, it can also be destructive, unleashing floods and tsunamis. When calm, it provides avenues for voyagers to traverse the earth and goods and services to reach their destinations.

In the first reading, we learn that God can make water gush out of the rock to satiate the thirst of His people who cry out to Him. The desert thirst was, however, both a warning and an invitation for Israel to trust that their God is always in their midst. Our Lenten desert or fast is an invitation to an arid land where our trust turns from worldly allurements to the provision made by God’s spirit who leads our spiritual journey .

When Jesus asked the Samaritan woman for water, it was her life (and ours), empty and lacking in the proper spiritual nutrients to support it that He beckons us to offer to Him. His request for water was an allurement to inveigle and seize our utterly worldly and sin-laden soul—represented by the reprobate woman of Samaria—for the unction of the Spirit. It was a betrayal of sort, from the recklessness of sensual pursuits to the inebriation of the Spirit. Jesus asks us to turn our poverty over to Him and become enriched, to give our distress and gain joy, to surrender our chains and become free. When the strong asks help from the weak, it should be provided in haste with the hope that such help would attract greater benefits. When God asks you for life, you need not be stingy in offering Him that which belongs to Him. God is much more generous with His spirit than the rich man with their money. To the woman at the well, He says, “Whoever drinks the water that I will give will never be thirsty again.” He makes the point that we have a spiritual thirst, more profound than our physical thirst for water. It happens that some do not recognize this; hence, they’re unaware of their inner poverty and nakedness. But the Lord knows. He knew that the woman of Samaria—five times divorced—hasn’t had any good fortune finding the perfect guy. But she could find in Jesus her soul’s desire. He is the one of whom the Psalmist says: “As a deer yearns for running stream, so my soul is yearning for you, my God” (Psalm 42:1). Isaiah similarly prophesied, “Come to me, everyone who is thirsty” (Isaiah 55:1). Jeremiah likewise calls Him, “the Spring of living water” (Jer 17:13).

St. Augustine found after a life of desolation that our hearts are made for God, and can rest in him. Someone else wrote: “Our hearts have a God-shaped hole in them; that only God can fill.” Charlie Brower wrote about the foolishness of attempting to satisfy spiritual thirst with material things: “My friend Bill is one of those guys who’s still searching for success, even though he’s already found it...still scoring touchdowns, even though the game is over and won. He’s come to the end of the rainbow, but there’s no pot of gold there. He’s found the buried treasure, but it’s empty.” The point is: material success alone leaves us empty. There’s a void in us that no material object can fill. Man cannot live without God; the infinite haunts him constantly. As the sun rises without asking permission of the night so divine life invades us without consulting the darkness of our mind. Even when our intellects bar God’s passage by the false obstruction to belief that unsound thinking erected, He is able to penetrate to us through the secret door we have not known how to bolt (Fulton Sheen).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 2nd Sunday of Lent, Year A, March 1, 2026

Sat, 28 Feb 2026 03:35:47 GMT

If you think you’re too old to change course, take a cue from Abraham and his wife Sarah. Abraham was 75 years old when God called him to abandon his native land to head out to some unknown land for a mission not too clear. It was an adventure that he undertook based solely on the strength of God’s word. Thus, Abraham’s journey to an uncharted future began—a journey which saw him depart from current day Iraq to Palestine. Had that journey not happened, we won’t be talking about a place today called the Holy Land. God might still have sent Jesus to us, but it is possible He would be called ‘Jesus of Bagdad’ rather than Jesus of Nazareth.

We often speak of our “Spiritual Journey” or our daily journal—coined from the French word jour, to describe a daily record of events. Here is a lesson to learn from Abraham’s journey, unlike Adam and Eve presented to us last Sunday: We should never think that we know better than our Maker whose predilection is that we find happiness in him. We should never think that we are too old to start over or to make a change for the better. The perduring reality of our existence suggests that the invisible and the unknown are much truer than what we can see, feel, or touch. From our naked world of nature, we often realize surprisingly that deep beneath a flowering meadow, a volcanic eruption has been forming for many years. And that leads us to the mountain experience of Peter, James, and John, reported in today’s Gospel.

The Evangelist, Matthew, masterfully related the story of the Transfiguration. He was not at the scene, and thus didn’t own this story. He was a reporter of an experience that Peter, James, and John recounted to the Church. Hence, like the other evangelist, he unleashes his journalistic skills to report an experience so strange that it was almost impossible to sketch. We find him groping for the most striking terms, yet unsatisfied as he notices that his expressions were far too inferior to describe the reality. Mark, who is known for brevity in expression sounded even more laconic in his description of the event. For each of the apostles present at the Transfiguration, it marked a turning point in their perception of Jesus. For them, it remained an experience unlike no other in the visible world.

Jesus took Peter, James, and John. Why not Judas, Thomas, and Phillip? Because He knew those who best understood His teachings, as well as those whose pantry of spiritual foods needed more supplies. Next, He led them up a high mountain. Why not the plain? Because divine realities are to be perceived from an exalted position, not in the plain. Spiritual life involves climbing a mountain from where we can be given the vision to perceive ultimate things. St. Theresa of Avila notes that there are no plains in the spiritual life. One must continue to climb and should double up effort when the journey becomes tough. The spiritual plain is the cafeteria where the gullible pick and choose what aspect of God or His word to accept. Intentional Catholics remain on the incline.

We’re invited this Lent to climb the mountain with Jesus, experience His glory, and become similarly transfected (as scientists through a process called transfection introduce purified nucleic acid or DNA into mammalian cells to produce a desired protein). Introduction to the life of Jesus is our way to glory. Hence, Transfiguration is “the sacrament of our second regeneration” (CCC, 556). Unlike Moses, who coming from Sinai as mediator between God and Israel exuded a reflected glory, Christ entered the cloud with a glory that is His own: a glory He revealed to the apostles who saw Him converse with the greatest of the greats—Moses and Elijah. Eternal reality dawned on them and they begged to not go. But Jesus was preparing them for the Scandal of the Cros s so that amidst the doom and gloom that will accompany His saving death they may be strengthened by this vision of the likeness of the glory of heaven .

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 1st Sunday of Lent, Year A, February 22, 2026

Sat, 21 Feb 2026 03:35:42 GMT

The season of grace is once again upon us to share in God’s grace of redeeming love. If you don’t consider it a privilege, ask those parishioners who celebrated Lent with us last year but are now departed. Did I just say, “Ask them?” In fact, you have no way of asking them. No suggestion is made that their departure is a bad thing, yet our opportunity to celebrate another Lent is a grace that some of them never utilized. Maybe, it’ll take a few more Lents before we fully come to an appreciation of grace and prepare ourselves to embrace fully this gift of salvation.

As is usual on every first Sunday of Lent, salvation’s two archrivals, namely, Jesus and the devil, are presented to us sparring in the interlude to the stupendous combat that would be finally cast at a place called Calvary. Their positions are clear—one is interested in stalling every effort to make us better, and the other wants to offer everything, including His life, to help us reap the priceless fruit of salvation. Their tactic, however, would dazzle some of us. While the devil presents us some of what society regards as pragmatic approach to solving problems, Jesus wants us to take a deep breath and look at the totality of the picture and even make difficult choices to avoid getting stuck along the way. The devious sense approach of the devil invites us to take on popular and desired affectations like social work, allurement, and greed. Jesus’s approach is to tread carefully and subdue these desires, and focus on the greater good. How we respond to the temptations reveals which of the two archrivals we have made the choice to camp with.

The first reading presents the prologue to this rivalry. In actuality, it is a rivalry that every minute of everyday happens in our senses, intellect, and will. The story of the creation of our first parents, their temptation and fall from grace is more a theological treatise than a historical oeuvre or presentation. It says that an All-knowing and All-powerful God created our first parents and placed them in a comfortable place, giving them everything needed to be happy forever. Then came this stranger who tells them that God deceived them by limiting the array of possibilities for their enjoyment. He proposed that they take on the very project which their maker made clear would ruin them. And you know what…? They believed the stranger. That is the problem of evil, a problem which St. Paul tries to explain in his letter to the Romans in today’s second reading. In summary, these passages tell us that evil is rooted in our decision to: 1, listen to the stranger who wants to ruin us; 2, make our own rules; and 3, stand in opposition to an all-good God . If God limited our free will and left us like the plants and animals that do not have to worry about choosing between right and wrong, would that have served us better?

The story of the temptation of Jesus by the devil is cast to show exactly how the devil plots our downfall and how we can side with Christ to get him off our neck. Almost every temptation takes the same format and are rooted in: Comfort, Power, and Possessions. Comfort : Related to the search for bodily satisfaction with food and drink, sex and leisure. When ordered right, it produces sustenance. When ordered according to the devil’s script, it has calamitous effects: overindulgence, addiction, infidelity, divorce, abortion, etc. Glory : Related to the desire for attention, excitement, esteem, honor, etc. When ordered right, it shines divine light on our lives. When ordered wrongly, it leads to selfish ambitions, vanity, depression, suicide, etc. Possessions : Related to the desire to have and use stuff. When ordered right, it leads to contentment. When ordered badly, it can be a major source of unhappiness. We should be as smart as Jesus who knows that to God, not the devil, belongs all things; hence, he could neither give them to Jesus, nor to us. We’re to boldly tell our adversary, as Jesus did, ...to get lost.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A, February 15, 2026

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 03:43:00 GMT

Whenever I see an icon on my phone asking me to update the software, I usually grow apprehensive, not knowing what changes are coming to the little machine. Sometimes, it’ll mean relearning everything you already knew, as our little devices appear to have a mind of their own that you’re expected to figure out. The technology experts at Silicon Valley are at a mad rush to innovate, not knowing that it’s very challenging for people to keep up with their unending updates. Yet, because we seem to have become sucked-in to technology, we patiently get to work and in no distant time, we learn it all and move on with our devices, even loving the new changes, until another call for update. The Christian life often sounds similarly like a constant call to update. When Jesus says that He has come not to abolish the law or the prophets but to fulfil, it sounds like a call to update our spiritual software.

We have been following Matthew’s account of the Sermon on the Mount . Before we even get lost, let’s recap. After Jesus moved out of the house of Mary and Joseph, He began announcing the message for which He came, namely: “Repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand.” Next, He sees a crowd anxious to get the full gist about this message and climbs uphill. There He sits down and starts to lay out His vision for the New Way . He issues eight Beatitudes associated with the kingdom. As they get sucked-in, He excites them all the more with indications that they belong to nobility, simply by choosing the new way; hence, they are like salt which would season the earth and preserve it from corruption, and like light that shines on all revealing things hidden and paths clogged with dangerous obstacles. In essence, they are to add flavor to life in order to reveal its true and lasting taste and shine the light to others so that they may see and know the way to the kingdom. But He warns them that should their salt become insipid or their light grow dim, they’ll not only lose the taste of the kingdom and miss their way, they’ll even lead other people astray. From there we arrive at the instructions of today, which illustrate how the new way far outpaces the old order in clarity and perfection. The next three Sundays will be a continuation of Matthew’s famous mountain discourse of Jesus. This year, though, we’re interrupted with Lent coming early.

Today’s discourse peers into our internal thoughts and even desires revealing how they can bear moral consequences, either for good or for bad. Jesus first states that there is something called “murder by intention.” We may never be able to physically kill someone, either because the opportunity does not present itself or because we lack the courage (or cowardice) it takes to murder someone. Yet, a definite intention to do so is enough to infer moral culpability. What should we guard against? Anger and hatred.

Similarly, we commit adultery not just when we’re caught with another person’s spouse. If that is all it takes, then unmarried people, those who have same-sex attraction, pedophiles and prostitutes would be exempt. Lustful eyes and heart are as egregious as physical acts of adultery. In this online age, the act of adultery can be completed online through pornography and masturbation, indecent exposures through snapchat, aka sexting, hours upon hours in immoral chatrooms, indecent dressing meant to seduce, etc. We must repeat this truth over and over to ourselves: pornography is adultery . Contrary to the view that the Church has become lenient with divorce, Jesus reiterates today that divorce is equally adultery. What should we guard against? Lust and Moral Indiscretion.

Finally, Jesus is spot on about the different forms of falsehood prevalent in our time. Whether they’re boldface lies, malicious twisting of other people’s words, innuendos, contradiction of facts, aka alternative facts, fake news, and the like are all from the evil one. Children of the kingdom should flee from lies.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A, February 8, 2026

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 22:11:37 GMT

Though the term “witness” is attached irrevocably to the exercise of religion, many Christians prefer to live like others, ignoring their Christian identity and witness. One of the disheartening things we heard during a past election season was that Christians should change their beliefs to conform to popular ideas. We were told to update our beliefs to agree with the world; that the Bible was an archaic literature that no longer serves our time; that we have overgrown reliance on an old creed and way of life. Many believed it and joined the rank and file of those who want to strip the world of all allegiance to God. But here comes Jesus today in His Sermon on the Mount instructing about our exalted position in relation to the world: “You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world.”

First, He says, “You are the salt of the earth.” He means two things: one—salt adds flavor to our food and drinks. Imagine cooking an important meal with no salt. The food will taste bland and won’t pass for a tasty dish. Two—before we learned to preserve food in ice-boxes, the ancients used salt for this purpose. For example, salt kept meat from going rotten, and in fact, the Greeks had a saying that salt was to a dead body like its soul . Pickle meat with salt and its freshness returns. Salt defended against corruption. It was at a time the most important commodity. Wars were fought for control of salt mines; and Rome used salt to compensate soldiers and for trade; hence, from the Latin word for salt salarium , we derive the term “salary.” It is even claimed that the word soldier comes from the Latin expression “ sal-dare ,” which means “to give salt.” These explanations are necessary for unpacking Jesus’ saying that we are the salt of the earth. Not only are we to give flavor to a wearied and insipid world as does salt to the dish, it is also our vocation to defeat the corruption of the world in the same manner that salt attacks dead meat. The flavor and purity of the Christian is so essential that people should be able to take a cue from us about nobility of life, and, like gallant soldiers, we’re to give the salt of protection to our society attacked by our vicious enemy—the devil. Our Lord is literally saying that if we fail to give flavor to the world, preserve moral virtues, retain godly values, and defend our spiritual borders, we are good for nothing. The world would trample on us; and unfortunately, it appears that’s where currently we are or the road to which we are dangerously heading.

Second, Jesus says “You are the light of the world.” He compares believers to Jerusalem—the city set on a hill. It’s a call to action, not words; to shine light, and not hide away. St. John Chrysostom was convinced that if we truly lived in imitation of Christ, obeyed God’s precepts, bore injuries without retaliation, rendered good for evil, blessed when we’re cursed, there’ll be no more pagan in the world. It is because of our failures to be light that the world is such a hateful place filled with the darkness of error and unbelief.

To answer the call to be lightsome, I invite you to say this prayer by St. John Henry Newman that you may be illumined by Christ and bear His light to the world: “Dear Jesus, help me to spread Thy fragrance everywhere I go. Flood my soul with Thy spirit and life. Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly that all my life may only be a radiance of Thine. Shine through me, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Thy presence in my soul. Let me look up and see no longer me but only Jesus! Stay with me, and then I shall begin to shine as Thou shinest, so to shine as to be a light to others; the light, O Jesus, will be all from Thee; none of it will be mine; it will be Thou shining on others through me. Let me thus praise Thee in the way Thou dost love best by shining on those around me. Let me preach Thee without preaching, not by words but by my example, by the catching force of the sympathetic influence of what I do, the evident fullness of the love my heart bears Thee. Amen.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A, February 1, 2026

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 22:42:37 GMT

Jesus’ mission statement, which we heard last Sunday says: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Today marks the announcement of His vision for the kingdom, which, unlike the commandments of old that carried prohibitions, issues benedictions. In place of “Thou shall not,” we hear, “Blessed are you.” The eight Beatitudes form a litany of blessings spoken from an exalted position. Just as the law that issued prohibitions came from the mountain, so the beatitudes are addressed from the mountain—both evoking distinctive arrays of exaltation. The new vision, however, arose not as a correction for disorderly conduct, rather, as a message embedded in God’s love, and the responsibility to which He calls the people of the new covenant. For, even if the entire commandments were meticulously observed—which they weren’t—such observance would only promise an orderly world, not necessarily a blessed one. The beatitudes teach that through Christ we gain fullness of blessings for conditions that fall often out of sync with worldly paradigms and appeal. Let’s examine them one after another.

1. It has to be nerve-racking to hear Jesus contradict the assumption that poverty is a sign of divine retribution or that wealth is allied to divine blessings (Psalm 112:3). But Jesus speaks about the “anawim” or the poor in spirit , which, in the Hebrew sense, implies those so overwhelmed by need that they absolutely depend upon God. While it involves the materially impoverished, it also embraces those who absolutely rely on God’s help—whether materially poor or rich. Both the rich man, Zacchaeus, and the poor woman who gave the “Widow’s mite” (Mark 12:4-44; Luke 21:1-4) are counted among the anawim . You who trustingly depend on God for your help and salvation are the anawin , regardless of your socio-economic status.

2. Mourning and tears that stream from a broken heart that seeks God’s justice, mercy, and forgiveness, will bring comfort. Selfish tantrums for not having one’s way may rend the heart, but will attract no blessings.

3. The meek who will inherit the land of promise are the humble, patient, and long-suffering. The vicious and self-righteous who think themselves the center of the universe will have the grave as their only inheritance.

4. Does your heart hunger for righteousness and upright living? Your satisfaction will be like an overflowing stream. On the contrary, life for those who crawl back into blatant narcissism, cruelty, rudeness, and willful ignorance shall be like muddy, swampy water infested with vermin of all kinds.

5. Mercy is an attribute of God, and those who live by this divine attribute will experience its reciprocal effect: they shall obtain mercy in return. The merciless will reap fierce judgment for themselves and their deeds.

6. The pure in heart who seek God with undivided attention will experience the glorious face of God. The depraved who let their hearts to be caroused by debauchery and practice every abominable act will grope in eternal darkness.

7. The peacemakers who seek harmony with others share in the mission of Jesus to reconcile the world to Himself (2 Cor 5:19), and are rightly children of God. Those who cause division and hatred among people are rightly children of their own father—the devil, whose essence is division.

8. Persecution and social ostracism on account of the faith and righteous living are passports to heaven. Those who blackmail, gossip, and damage others’ reputation have signed their deportation orders from the reign of God.

Finally, Jesus emphasized the eschatological nature of the beatitudes and personalizes it when He turns from “blessed are those” to say “blessed are YOU” and asks you to rejoice and be glad over any affliction you suffer in His name, because you’ll not fail to receive your reward.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A, January 25, 2026

Fri, 23 Jan 2026 02:18:37 GMT

From the theme of “Manifestation to the Gentiles” on the Epiphany of the Lord, to last Sunday’s theme of the “Lamb of God who takes away sins,” we’re greeted on this 3rd Sunday with the theme of “light that overpowers darkness.” The arrest of John the Baptist is used by Matthew to introduce this theme of darkness begging for the light, which only Christ can bring. Christ is the true light to all nations. He became the light for the forgotten towns of Naphtali and Zebulun. These were called the “Lost Tribes of Israel” because they were decimated by the Assyrians in 722 BC, but later became influential because Christ the true Light of the World began His ministry there and was called “Jesus of Nazareth.” Nazareth was north of the Sea of Galilee. In the first reading and the gospel, both Isaiah and Matthew referred to this city by their original names—Naphtali and Zebulun. These names would conjure a feeling of dread in many who would remember nothing but the assault by the Assyrians. Yet, Matthew, quoting Isaiah, declares the Good News that their darkness has been overpowered by the light of Christ.

In the summer of 2007, it was reported that while a group of tourists were inside the Arch of St. Louis, the lights suddenly went out. Among those trapped in the dark were two children, an eight-year-old boy and her five-year-old sister. It was a very scary situation, especially for the kids. As the little girl began to cry, her eight-year-old brother was heard telling his sister, “Don’t worry, Amy! There’s a man around who knows how to turn the lights on again.” As he said this, the lights came back.

Each of us needs a voice that promises hope in our darkness. Perhaps our own darkness is fear, sickness, some hurt or grudge we refuse to let go of, unforgiveness or a pattern of unhealthy behavior to which we’re sliding and conjuring hard substances and excuses with which to numb our brain and conscience. Our only help might be a thorough illumination of our darkness, a shining of light to our darkest nights and secrets so they can become cauterized and healed. A question that each of us should direct to no other than ourselves is: “Where in my life do I need some shining of the light of Christ?”

Certainly, we have areas of our lives that need some illumination, without which we may remain in our darkness and confusion. But the light of Christ brings clarity, love, and healing. Gradually, we’ll realize that we have more peace, more joy, more wholeness, and have become more lightsome and able to fix other minor dark spots both in our lives and those of our loved ones. If we honestly seek Him with all our heart, we’ll realize that He is that man around the “arch of our soul” who knows how to turn on the light and banish our fears.

St. John Henry Newman was someone who knew something about this light, understood it, and sought it himself. During the period when every long-distance travel was by boat, Newman was returning from Italy to his native England when his boat was detained in Sicily. There, he fell ill and nearly died. During his convalescence, he penned down a poem that has become a popular hymn for night prayer, describing his search for the light of Christ:

Lead kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; lead Thou me on

The night is dark and I am far from home; lead Thou me on

Keep thou my feet, I do not ask to see; the distant scene, one step enough for me.

As we enter the week of Prayer for Christian Unity in this cold deadness of winter, we pray for the light of Christ, which alone would lead us out of the ghettos of isolation to the bond of love and unity. St. Paul reprimands us for creating and holding on to factions and claiming that we understand and possess Jesus more than others. After 500+ years of division, all Christian people must let the light of Christ destroy our darkness of division.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A, January 18, 2026

Sat, 17 Jan 2026 02:38:02 GMT

John the Baptist is unlike many of us in many ways. For example, we have a natural tendency to take the credit when things under our watch turn out right, though we might not have contributed effectively to those outcomes. John the Baptist, however, refused to be a “wannabe Messiah;” though his entire entourage thought him to be the Messiah and wanted to proclaim him one. He refused that accolade: “I am not the one you imagine me to be” (John 1:20). Today’s Gospel starts with him pointing to the people the one who is the Lamb of God. Once he saw Jesus, he proclaimed the words we hear at every Mass “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). He went further to describe in detail the characteristics of the Messiah, one of which is that “the Spirit will come down like a dove from the sky and remain upon him; hence, he will baptize with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:32-33). John the Baptist will never take credit for a feat he didn’t perform or a role for which he hasn’t been called. He is content to assume his true identity and be himself. His name is “the voice,” and not “the Word.”

But there’s something curious about this Messiah: He is a Lamb. Lamb? Imagine a football team emerging for the Superbowl with the name: “The Lambs.” That’s not the type of names we’re used to or a name to which hard-hitting players would want to be associated. Avid fans and stars prefer names like the Panthers, the Tigers, the Lions, the Bulls, the Hurricanes, and the Cowboys etc., which depict strength. Isn’t it so? What is rather strange is that the one who is truly Almighty chose a rather humble name for his own team: “The Lamb.” Tt teaches us something about how the Almighty sees and understands real strength and the spiritual meaning of power?

You may know that the Book of Revelation referred to Jesus as the “Lion of the tribe of Judah” (Rev 5:5), but the symbolism of the Lamb is more intimately connected with his Messianic role. In fact, the Lamb symbol does have a rich history that is associated with precise salvific events, like the lamb of the Passover (Exodus 12:5), linked by Peter to the “lamb without blemish or defect” (1 Peter 1:19), the lamb of the Last Supper (Mark 14:12), and the Lamb of the Book of Revelation that “appeared as if it had been slain” (Rev 5:6). This victorious Lamb is the one of which we sing in the great work of Handel Messiah “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain,” often depicted in Christian art as wounded, yet holding triumphantly a pennant victory flag. Significantly, the lamb is the animal that sacrifices everything: its wool, its skin, its flesh. It keeps nothing to itself, and hence, is God’s chosen sign of victory.

Some Christians with many in our world have a hard time grappling with this idea that Christ frees us from our sin. Perhaps they do not understand because sin is like living in a bubble. The culprits do not see it. We often do not see how sin affects us, how it damages our relationships, and causes us to hurt each other. Recent events show that we are more likely to shove sin away and blame other people, rather than look inward to see the terrible cancer eating our lives away. Politicians find ways to change the narrative of an event so that the blameless becomes the blameworthy. Shifting the discussion to something else means we remain in the mud.

The lamb theology is what the world generally misses in the clamor for power and prestige. The world will readily hand the flag of victory to the Caesars, Alexander the Great, George Washington, etc., but Christians declare that victory belongs to the Lamb through whom alone our sins can be washed away and who speaks words of gentleness, love, and peace. We declare that the lamb is stronger than the lion and that the gentlest ones are the toughest.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Baptism of the Lord, Year A, January 11, 2026

Sat, 10 Jan 2026 15:45:50 GMT

The feast of the Baptism of the Lord is like a climax of the Christmas feast. Christmas celebrates the incarnation or God becoming a human being. God has a nature different from ours, the same way humans have a nature different from plants. We do have something in common with plants: we are creatures. With regard to God, scripture tells us that we are made in His image. And while that says something significant about humans, we need not be overly elated about that, just as a grass effigy need not rejoice that it is fashioned in the likeness of a human being. Incarnation or Christmas for plants would mean that one of us took the nature of plant, just as for us it means that God took our nature.

I don’t really know what the most despicable thing about plants is. But I know what it is for human beings. It is the three-letter word: SIN. Today’s feast is about God’s identification with our sin condition. This explains why John the Baptist, who perhaps understood well who Jesus was, protested that he was unworthy to baptize Jesus as He didn’t have any sin. Jesus’ insistence to be baptized is curious; yet, it actually looks like the climax of the incarnation—for He desired to become one with us in our sinfulness, even without having any sin.

This was a moment of great divide: the old would give way to the new. The Spirit of God which hovered over the deep on the original creation (Gen 1:2) would now descend like a dove upon Him, signaling a new creation. This new beginning was sometime in the past signaled to Noah after the dove returned to him bearing an olive branch to indicate that salvation—symbolized by dry land and fruitfulness—have appeared after the great flood (Gen 8:11). It was Noah’s dove, not Noah himself, which found dry land, and returning brought an olive branch, also symbolizing peace.

The flood in Noah’s time is a prefigurement of the baptismal waters that make an end of sin and a new beginning of goodness (The Rite of Baptism). And through the waters of the Red Sea, God led Israel out of slavery, to be an image of God’s holy people, set free from sin by baptism (The Rite of Baptism). Christ’s descent into the Baptismal water was meant to sanctify it, in order to quell its destructive power over God’s people, just as He did at the Red Sea. The Holy Spirit descending as a dove on Jesus, just as He brought an olive branch to Noah, signals the arrival of God’s favor and peace, a form of dry land, and an assurance of salvation.

Baptism is full of rich symbolisms. Whenever you’re present for a baby’s baptism, look out for symbolisms—like the shape of the baptismal font. Here at St. John, it is shaped like a womb from which children are begotten in the Spirit. The baptismal fonts at St. Pius X and St. Bernard’s in Tulsa are made in the form of a grave from which Christians are raised to new life in Christ. The cathedral of Burgos-Spain, for example, (one of the cathedrals we visited during our last pilgrimage) has a very large circular section where the baptismal font is located. It’s large enough for the entire congregation to gather around the baptismal font to witness the first entrance into the living family of God of those born anew and redeemed by Christ.

St. Hilary of Poitiers taught that “everything that happened to Christ during his Baptism happens to us. After the birth of water, the Holy Spirit swoops down upon us from high heaven, and we become adopted by the Father’s voice, calling us His sons and daughters.”

Baptism is our greatest gift from God: it is God’s very life and love that we share when we’re baptized. Through this new life, we overcome Adam’s sinful death. It is a love that overpowers and wins us away from love of self to the love of God and our neighbor unto His glory.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Epiphany of the Lord, Year A, January 4, 2026

Fri, 02 Jan 2026 18:11:00 GMT

Just a few days ago, we entered a new year. As one author described the New Year, it is a book with 365 blank pages. Each day of this 365 finds us filling a page of our journey. No day passes with no writing on our blank pages. Every activity, word, deed or omission of the day forms part of the story for each day. I pray and hope that your story is one that will find you every day moving toward Christ and finally finding Him whom the Magi sought by following the Star to Bethlehem.

As I reflected on the star which guided the Magi, I thought about many of you who come to St. John’s from near and far distances: Savanna, Kiowa, Crowder, Stuart, and the surrounding towns. Some of you come twice or more a week. I cannot describe how grateful I feel for each time you set out; and I pray that each journey brings you closer to Christ, the Star of your life.

Today’s feast celebrates the great manifestation of Christ to the nations. The word Epiphany derives from the Greek word for “manifestation” or “showing forth.” In a true spiritual sense, Epiphany is the actual feast of Christmas, for today our Great God manifested Himself as the Light of all the nations. In fact, today, our brethren in the Eastern Churches celebrate Christmas. For them, God’s coming into the world was fulfilled not as much by the birth of a child as by His auspicious manifestation to the world: for children are born every day but not every birth of a child draws such extraordinary guests and gifts from distant lands. St. Teresa speaks about our search for God hidden in a child as God concealing Himself, yet giving us signals (the star) of His whereabouts, as a parent playfully hides from a toddler, to encourage the child to walk.

When I think of how incredible this story sounds, I can only imagine to what degree the coming of Christ and His life has impacted peoples of different nationalities, race, and tongue. In hindsight we often think that anyone with any sense should be persuaded by the story and become a believer and a disciple of Jesus, while, in fact, the opposite is more probable. Take a two thousand years’ leap and reflect on what we’re asking people to believe: that God suddenly decided that He would like to become one of us, then enters the womb of an unmarried woman, and was born in a smelly doghouse, then grew up learning carpentry, but later became an itinerant teacher, performing all kinds of feat that got him into trouble with the Roman authorities who had him tortured and crucified, only for him to come alive after three days in the grave. It won’t be totally unreasonable for someone to say: “Sale me a story!”

It only gets more astonishing when we announce in today’s feast that so-called wise men followed a star for a great distance, made inquiries about the birth of a baby-king, worshipped at the feet of a tiny baby lying in a manger, gave gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, and chose to disobey the king who aided their search. Friends, this story isn’t as compelling as we often think it is. But that’s what makes it profound and why it calls for deep reflection. We’ve heard it a thousand times and the same Jesus who revealed Himself to us with the infusion of faith in Him calls us to reveal Him to others. It’s unlikely that we’ll achieve this through a convincing argument. Many will rather be brought to Him by what we evince, something we manifest and they see in us: faith, hope, love, goodness, peace, and joy—rarely seen elsewhere.

We’ll become the modern-day Magi, walking by faith, inspiration, love and intuition on our long and mysterious journey to see—no longer a baby—but our King. We are the modern-day stargazers desperate to see our Superstar. And in the words of McKarns, we carry our gifts of virtue and goodness, like the nuggets of gold fit for a King. We bring our pains on which He pours the healing balm of His love—myrrh; and we offer frankincense—our prayers, as priestly people united with Christ, our Great High Priest.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Year A, December 28, 2025

Fri, 26 Dec 2025 21:46:09 GMT

If ever you have felt comfortable to watch the program on TV called “Modern Family,” I duff my hat for you. When in the late seventies and early eighties, the program: “The American Family: An Endangered Species?” aired on NBC, one in four families had the traditional family structure, 40% of marriages ended in divorce, and there were six million single parent families only . If you think that was bad, you’ll be shell-shocked by today’s statistics, which I’ll spare you. But consider that in the eighties, gay marriage hadn’t become law and it would have been unheard of to think one could choose his or her gender; threesomes and foursomes were still deviant behaviors. The various step-situations we have today were merely tolerated then, and having children outside wedlock was still frowned at.

Against this backdrop of today’s family, the Church presents us with the Holy Family of Nazareth. It may sound strange to many brought up and living in present day families to learn that a family situation like that of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus was even possible. Not that things were all pretty and dandy for them. In fact, they contended with most or even much more of the complexities and worries of life than the average family. For example, we love to put up the Nativity Scene in our heated and air-conditioned living rooms and churches, often forgetting that the stable of Bethlehem was cold and uncomfortable, smelt of animal feces, and lacked doctors and nurses to aid in child delivery. The Holy Family was so poor that at the Presentation of Jesus in the temple, the family could only afford the offering of the poor—two pigeons. Joseph was a carpenter, barely able to put food on the table. While we cry and fret about bad politicians, we have not been targeted by government to the extent that we’ll need to escape to another country as fugitives. The Holy Family experienced fear, sorrow and disappointments, yet held on hope and resigned to God’s plan. We too may face difficulties, missteps and uncertain situations, and have the Holy Family as our mentor. In our church family as members of St. John’s parish or any other parish, it is possible, too, to feel abandoned like several families with runaway or separated fathers.

But today’s feast can also help us reflect on the adverse effects that contemporary ethos has brought upon the family. More than 50 years after the encyclical, Humanae Vitae, by Pope Paul IV, we are living witnesses of the calamity he predicted about the family faced with a vehement contraceptive culture. St. Paul VI, as a true prophet, warned of four resulting trends: 1) a general lowering of moral standards throughout society, 2) a rise in infidelity, 3) a lessening of respect for women by men, and 4) a coercive use of reproductive technologies by governments. Do you need any argument to show that modern society has acquiesced to lower moral standards that are not just tolerated but radically enforced as the norm? You become a social outcast today if you do not accept abortion, homosexuality, gender fluidity, cohabitation, and pornography. About rise in infidelity and lessening of respect for women, we need look no further than the myriads of allegations of sexual exploitation of women and children roiling Hollywood and several in the political class. The pill was supposed to free everybody from sexual slavery, but look what it has given society—a greater percentage of men and women registered as sex-offenders, sexual molestation and exploitation of children and women, a deadening of the male libido in relation to real women, and solace in porn and online adultery. The HHS Mandate of the Obama era was an example of the coercive enforcement of the contraceptive culture by government as predicted by Prophet Paul VI. As we enter a new temporal year, we are called to recover the priceless jewel of family life seen in the family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. We must refuse to connive with the forces that threaten the family.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year A, December 21, 2025

Sat, 20 Dec 2025 01:37:13 GMT

The German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, would love our first reading of today, which seems to align with his obscurantic and theosophical interpretation of “Building, Dwelling, Thinking.” Did you notice the play on words in that reading about building and dwelling in a house? David was thinking of building a house for the Lord to dwell. The Lord, in turn, through the prophet Nathan, is telling David that He Himself will build a house for David and his progeny to dwell forever. We can see Heidegger’s reference to the fourfold of “earth, sky, mortals, and divinities” represented in this dialogue between David and God’s prophet. David had the thought to build a house for the Lord to dwell. What kind of house? A house of cedar and precious stones. In his thinking the tent of meeting was too fragile a dwelling for the ark of the Lord. He didn’t realize that equally fragile are houses of stone and cedar. Twice, the temple of Jerusalem (work of man’s hands) was destroyed, and none is standing presently. Only God can build a house that lasts forever. That was his promise to David.

The actual words used by Prophet Nathan are: “The Lord Himself will make you a House.” A deeper reading of these words brings up the correct idea. God isn’t going to gather stone, wood, and mortar to build; rather, as the Maker par excellence, He plans to transform David into a House that endures. How did God do this? The ark where His glory dwelt and the symbol of the old covenant got lost or hidden (II Mac 2:4-8), marking the end of the old covenant. Jeremiah, who hid the ark, said that it would reappear when God gathers His people together again and shows them His mercy.

The reappearance of the ark did occur a generation later when the words of the prophet Isaiah became fulfilled that, “ a virgin shall conceive and bear a son whose name will be Emmanuel” (Is 7:14). The word Emmanuel is a Hebrew expression with root in the preposition “ immanu -El,” meaning “ with us -Lord” or God-with-us . And those are the words we hear from the angel today as he told this Virgin of Promise , “...the Lord is with you.” In Mary, God has completed the house into which He promised to build David. In her, rather than in a house of stone or cedar, God found a dwelling. In her, the lost ark reappeared—in a word, it took flesh. As the Word of God, Jesus, became flesh, so the ark that bore the Word preceded Him in taking flesh. This is why Mary is called the Ark of the New Covenant , which first took flesh in order to give flesh to God’s Word. At her Visitation to Elizabeth , we would hear Mary reiterate the words of Jeremiah in Second Maccabees 2:16 that, “God has remembered His mercy as promised to Abraham and his posterity forever” (Lk 1:54-55). But it was Zachariah who captured the essence of the house that God promised to build for David when he said: “He has raised up a horn of salvation for us, in the house of David His servant.”

Mary was no dullard. She asked the angel a scientific question: “How can this be since I do not know man?” You see that long before modern biology and sceptics put a query to the Virgin Birth, Mary had asked the scientific “How?” We see in Mary a beautiful tinge of toughness, for though she believed, she still inquired. The angel answers that, in her case, conception and birth will result without regard to human love, but not without regard to Divine Love. To abate any fears, the angel referred her to another sign showing that nothing is impossible to God: Elizabeth’s pregnancy happened without regard to age as Mary’s own pregnancy would happen without regard to man. Yet, Joseph would be a veritable instrument who in public appearance, would be thought of as Jesus’ father; thus, the reputation of the Virgin was conserved. For if Mary had become a Mother without a spouse, it would have exposed the mystery of Christ’s birth to ridicule, and would become a scandal to the weak (Sheen).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent (Guadete Sunday), Year A, December 14, 2025

Fri, 12 Dec 2025 23:07:17 GMT

If we’ll all be honest, we’ll admit that at some point or occasion in our life we’ve asked a similar question as John the Baptist did today. We often wonder and even ask Jesus: “Are you really the one who is supposed to save the world? Then, why are you not stepping up and doing it? See the mess in which the world is; look how truth is perverted; see how bad people progress and the innocent suffer; look how little Emily who has done nothing wrong is suffering from cancer. Whether you’ve been tempted to take the atheistic position that there’s no God or that He doesn’t care, the answer that Jesus offers is that you look at the glass as half-full rather than half-empty. Yes, God is doing His work, bringing the Good News to the poor and deliverance to captives. The quest for automatic and man-made solutions to world problems may blind us from seeing with the eyes of faith. We need to evoke the wisdom of the elder James who calls us today to “take as our models in suffering, hardship, and patience... the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord” (James 5:10).

The year was roughly AD 31. John was ‘languishing’ in a Southern Palestinian jail. He’d been for six months in the prison dungeon located in the fortress of Machaerus, overlooking the Dead Sea. Prior to that, he’d announced to all the imminent arrival of the Messiah who would make all things right. Well, bad for him, he’d stepped on a lot of toes. He called people “brood of vipers,” “enemies of righteousness,” told them they were sinners, should repent or burn. Everyone tolerated John the Disturber until he publicly chastised king Herod about his adultery with Herodias—his brother’s wife. For daring to make such politically incorrect statement, he was thrown in jail.

John the Baptist would not be the last person to suffer for proclaiming the truth. We experience today a vehement resistance to truth. Hardly do people give straight forward answers to questions of right and wrong. Facts are molded to suit the desires of the populace who seek flattery rather than truth. Truth has been declared unattainable and unknowable—so, you’re told not to bother about seeking it. If you fan your errors hard enough, they can become “your truth,” and you can sell it to the morally unfree society. Not wanting are books, videos and pressure groups that seek to or actively justify every behavior. Forget about universal laws; what’s important is how compelling your words are. The 10 Commandments are but 10 suggestions. Several Christian groups have discarded the biblical truth that, we will be judged according to our deeds. Judgment turns to the farce that happens in some law courts, where you can sway a jury to your side by just making yourself likeable.

Yet, I know that not everyone has bought into this sting operation against truth. If you’re still attracted to the truth—not minding whether or not it is popular or politically correct—then this Sunday is your day. It is called Gaudete Sunday (Rejoice Sunday), because both the prophet Isaiah, the elder apostle James, John the Baptist, and the Lord Jesus Himself call us to experience true joy. That joy comes your way when you examine your conscience and discover that you need God’s mercy. Also, you may have found that you missed Mass on Sunday and the past one or two Holy Days of Obligation (All Saints and Immaculate Conception), that you have cheated your employer, employee or someone else, that you have told lies against others, that you have not contributed to the Church, that you have received the Eucharist with grave sins in your heart, etc., etc. Someone may say: “I don’t agree that those things are sinful.” You are free to live in your make-belief world. But if you believe that the Church cannot prescribe bad spiritual medicine to you, then examine your conscience, confess your sins, and win God’s pardon this Advent. You will certainly experience the peace and joy that the Savior brings at His birth.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent, Year A, December 7, 2025

Sat, 06 Dec 2025 17:54:27 GMT

As TV News and programs become increasingly unwatchable these days, I’ve made the conscious decision to only watch the Animal Channels. There, the big cats—tigers, lions, Chita, leopards are the lords of the wild, and they easily make meal of all other wildlife, big or small. Yet, occasionally I’ll see a baboon or—the really intriguing one—a coyote or one of the wolves tear a leopard to pieces. Life in the wild is never pretty; but that’s why it’s called wildlife. Politics in America is also turning society into a dangerous wildlife. The lives of people seeking public office are turned into grill for the media meal. Insult and calumny fall easily from the pens and lips of many in the media who seek one more ingredient to add to their soup of slander. As worked up as society is presently, our remedy would be the prophetic voice of Isaiah who proclaims peaceful coexistence between the wolf and the lamb, the cow and the bear, the calf and the lion; and going on, republicans and democrats, progressives and traditionalists, the media and the populace, the college professor and the factory worker.

I doubt that we will ever see a world like Isaiah described. Yet, prayers must be offered for the healing of the terrible rift engineered by politics in America. I surmise that only Jesus, the Prince of Peace can do it. Unless we run to Him, the only peace we’ll experience going on in our society will be that of the cemetery. Clearly, something terrible is happening to our collective psyche: We are no longer able to tell each other the truth; we fear correcting our children and those placed in our charge; we are unable to argue reasonably for any position; any instance of disagreement causes the trauma of microaggression needing some ‘safe healing spaces’ to shelter from disconcerting moods; we have airbrushed sin away and have turned religion into cherry vanilla ice cream; we have detached from God and turned on each other. I heard recently that a social-media panic ensued in one of our colleges because a student saw a priest in white robe, with a cincture and rosary beads tied to his waist, and identified him as someone “in a KKK outfit holding a whip.” Thank God the priest wasn’t lynched, but a pity that the children we send to college cannot identify a priest when they see one. We are gradually being overrun by hysteria.

God sends John the Baptist this Advent to awaken in us the sense of responsibility and the need to seek healing from this hysteria. St. Paul echoing the same message adds that we must think in harmony with one another. To the men and women of our time, John might as well be “John the Disturber, ” upsetting people’s quiet and peace of mind. However, John’s message of repentance and restoration is the only healing balm for our sin condition. He announces a coming wrath from which we must flee. We must repent from our sins and not think that we only blew our cool. He asks us to produce good fruits as evidence of our repentance. He wants us to be a voice for good, not a whisper; a burning torch, not a dying bulb. John’s austere life carries a message to abandon our pursuit of illusory wealth and pleasure which foster a false sense of security. He invites us to open our lives to the indwelling of the Holy Spirit with His sevenfold gifts that Isaiah prophesied in the first reading: a spirit of wisdom and understanding, of counsel and strength, of knowledge, purity and the fear of the Lord .

Some would prefer that John the Baptist to tells them: “Have a nice day” or “you’re cool.” There are many who will feel happy if that’s the only message they heard in today’s homily. If ever you need such feel-good sermon this Advent, I advise that you tune in to the likes of Joel Osteen or pay money to attend their concert. But to bury sin with such socio-economic buzzwords is to leave us as we are and sell Christ out, making a caricature of His incarnation and saving death on the cross. Maranatha, come Lord Jesus!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent, Year A, November 30, 2025

Fri, 28 Nov 2025 15:44:07 GMT

In his Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis has a line of reflection for people slow to turn from evil and reform their lives: Student-devils were getting prepared to be dispatched to the earth to complete their coursework in causing mayhem. Satan held a one-on-one interview with each of them. To the first student, he asked: “What’s your strategy?” to which he responded, “I’ll instruct them that God doesn’t exist.” Satan shook his head and responded, “Not so smart; most of them know our enemy exists. Next...” The next student entered: “I’ll persuasively argue that there’s nothing like hell,” to which the devil responded: “No way, after millions of abortions and murderous wars, they do know that hell exists. Next...” Then came the last student, a she-devil intern. She revealed that her strategy would be to tell humanity that they have plenty of time, to which the devil responded with a shrill smile: “Smart woman. Do that and you’ll bring them down here in droves.”

Advent comes, Advent goes! Year after year we arrive at this beginning of the liturgical year. We bring the same message that the coming of the Lord is near, as we have done for 2000 years. Someone may wink and role her eyes, saying: “Here we go again; the priests are going to once again scare us with end of the world messages; an end that doesn’t really come.” If that’s your default position, you must have been listening to Screwtape’s she-devil and believing that there’s plenty of time. Jesus reminds us today about a similar attitude that was prevalent during the time of Noah. People thought Noah was insane to be building a humongous ark in preparation for a flood that they considered a figment of his imagination. Given the number of improbable things that are happenings these days, we should better be on the watch. On the positive side, there’s considerable number of converts to the Catholic faith. Yet, quite a good number, especially younger women, are abandoning the faith. Many are yet to wake up to the reality that God has been giving us signs pointing to the eventual end. Screwtape’s she-devil might not really any longer be that smart; her code has been cracked. Reading the signs of the time, it’ll be smarter to admit that the end is nearer than many would want to believe.

As you get busy putting out the lights, preparing the Christmas Tree, setting the manger scene, and buying Christmas gifts, I’ve this simple advice: This is a year of improbabilities. Spend some time to reflect on your life and on your eternal destiny. Consider the possibility that you’re using up your last chance and could be lost forever. Jesus cautions that we beware of letting our hearts become coarsened with debauchery, drunkenness, and the cares of this life, and that day springs on us like a trap or a thief at night. What’s the trap for which we should be watching out? Who is the thief? Anything or anyone who would steal our eternal salvation from us must be put in check. The thieves we should be vigilant to stop this Advent are forces, influences, temptations that would steal the beautiful life that God has in store for us. If we succeed in warding off the night-thief, then would the Lord break into our heart and soul with His peace and serenity. That is the beauty of the incarnation. God Himself comes in the form of a babe to destroy all that could keep us from Him.

You might still say: “Not yet. I have some fun to catch up with; I have a business deal to complete that would rake in millions; maybe after the holiday.” The story is told about two Catholics who talked about salvation over drinks. One said: “I’m making my confession on my death-bed like the good thief.” His buddy replied: “There were two thieves on the cross; one of them didn’t make it to confession even though he had the eternal high priest with them. What makes you think you won’t be the other thief?” Evidently, as you live your life, so shall you die. Last minute repentance is a grace given only to a few. The time to repent is NOW!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Year C, November 23, 2025

Fri, 28 Nov 2025 15:42:14 GMT

For a Hebrew person, the name David represented strength, wisdom, conquest, leadership. Despite his recorded moral misadventures, the Jews remember him as their most illustrious leader. When they suffered terrible persecution under foreign rulers who enslaved and oppressed them, they remembered David and hoped for a king with the talents and capabilities of David. The prophets had assured them that another king will arise from David’s stock, an anointed one ( Christos ), who, like David would be strong, a conqueror of nations, with power to establish the prosperous reign of God. The two disciples who met the Lord on the road to Emmaus voiced their disappointment with Jesus who, they thought, was this new king: “We were hoping that he would be the one to set Israel free” (Lk 12:21).

From every indication He failed the “king” test. He was at best a wannabe-king . No real king would stand before another king handcuffed as he defends his kingship under interrogation. What definitely showed Him a weak earthly king was the crown He wore made of thorns, and not gold. The reactions of the individuals around the cross reveal a taunting deserving of an impostor or one of the “deplorables.” Like them or hate them, the Romans have incredible sense of humor—seen in Pilate’s inscription written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek to ensure that anyone in the world who could read saw and read it: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” It was a mockery to both Jesus and His Jewish folks. Pilate kind of says: “What a king you have in this one ...try another.”

Yet, in this gloom and doom, someone saw a true king, and he was a thief. Church tradition holds that this thief, Demas, who was meeting Jesus a second time in his life was a Judean Robin Hood. Their earlier meeting occurred during the flight to Egypt by Jesus and His parents. Demas and his friend—the other thief—accosted the Holy Family to rob them. Demas seeing how lovely the Baby was could not bear to lay hands on them or steal their possessions. He was quoted as saying: “O most blessed of children, if ever there come a time for having mercy on me, then remember me and forget not this hour” as he escorted the family out of harm’s way. That second meeting happened at Calvary as he hung beside the One he had, thirty three years before, protected. This was the juncture at which the mercy of God would be extended to him: for, as long as a person’s heart beats, the door to God’s merciful heart remains open.

Mercy is the balm of God’s love. Mercy is the door to God’s heart. Mercy is the highway to heaven. God doesn’t wish to pull us kicking and screaming along this road. He asks us to make an introspection so we may hear the sound of His voice in our consciences where He rules supreme. It is in our conscience that He has established His government house, His Supreme Court and Congress. We may try, but we cannot escape that court of God. We may protest the voice of conscience, but it never ceases to point to us the good and the evil in our lives. God would not send Fr. Jo to your homes to monitor how you live, whether you cheat on your wife...your employer, your taxes; whether you pray and teach same to your children, whether you use artificial birth control, whether you visit pornographic websites in your computer and other devises, etc., etc. It so happens, though, that because these are based on truth, whenever we speak of them, your conscience is disturbed. That’s the true meaning of kingship.

Nearing the close of the Jubilee Year of Hope , this gospel story tells us that God’s mercy endures forever and it’s never too late to embrace it. As king, Jesus invites us as He invited the good thief to walk with Him as a companion of the garden or paradise. Paradise is a Persian word for “a walled garden.” And like a Persian king, who, wishing to do a favor to his subject would invite him as a companion of the garden, Jesus invites the good thief and us to walk with Him in the honored place of the garden of heaven (Barclay).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, November 16, 2025

Sat, 15 Nov 2025 04:28:11 GMT

The clock in my office won’t work, even after replacing the batteries, so I went to buy a new clock. Getting back to the car, I saw a ticket tucked to the windshield, which got me really upset! I exited the vehicle to check whether I had parked wrongly or at a reserved parking spot. Everything appeared fine. I pulled out the ticket and unfolding it, I saw written in bold prints: “Where will you spend eternity?” A few other sentences with misspellings warned about the imminent arrival of Jesus and why I should seek my salvation from a Baptist Church listed in the address.

So, it wasn’t after-all a ticket. I relaxed my already upset nerves and looking around I could see that all the cars in the lot had the “ticket.” I pulled out of the lot; but seriously, those words, “Where will you spend eternity” stuck to mind. The experience reminded me about the words of the scripture scholar, Raymond Brown, that “End-of-the-World” preachers provide us a valuable lesson: keeping the Second Coming at our attention and reminding us of the words we say or sing, often without attention, at Mass. For example: at the Creed we say: “ He will come again in glory to JUDGE the living and the dead;” or at the Memorial acclamation: “When we eat this Bread and drink this Cup, we proclaim your Death, O Lord, until you come again .” As it did for me, may that “ticket” I got renew in everyone’s heart the desire for the great coming of the Lord!

You’d have noticed from today’s readings references to the end and the Second Coming. Those who know that the liturgical year has 34 Sundays and that today is the 33rd Sunday won’t be surprised that the Church is presenting to us this theme of the Second coming. We’re not to idle our time away like the Thessalonians whom Paul sternly admonishes in the second reading. We cannot keep minding everybody’s business but our own. We have no other option, after witnessing the various recorded attempts on Christians, than to gird our loins for what faces us. I will no longer need to preach about being intentional about our faith; the circumstances to which we are confronted leave no other choice for you. You have to decide to be intentional Catholics or “nones,” children of the kingdom or of the blindly innocuous world, a counter-cultural people or people who have no morals, and most importantly, a force for good in our society.

In the Gospel, Jesus asks us not to get flustered, distraught or full of anxiety, like those who mindlessly refuse to commit their lives to the kingdom. As persecution from the world is ominous, we have rich opportunities to become witnesses. It’s no longer just the early Christians to whom today’s message is addressed; they’ve had their share of persecution. The words: “You’ll be delivered up to those who will kill you for being faithful” was heard by all the early Church martyrs, but also by Oscar Romero, by Maximilian Kolbe, by the Coptic martyrs of Egypt, by Fr. Jacques Hamel, by the persecuted Christians in Nigerian, and by you and me. Those words are addressed to all who throughout the ages suffered for their faith and would continue to so suffer. When you are mocked by the media for hanging on to what they present as a dated morality, you are part of the persecuted Church. When you hold on to traditional family values and prefer responsibility over the forces that deify selfishness and self-gratification, you are a member of the persecuted Church. You will even suffer and be treated with scorn for telling your 19-year-old daughter that it isn’t right for her to move in with Tom without the benefit of marriage. You’ll be told that you have “archaic morals;” but that’s part of the persecution you’ll face for being a child of the kingdom.

The Lord’s promise that “through patient endurance, you’re saving your life” (Lk 21:19) should gladden your heart; for, according to Barclay, “a prison can be like a palace, a scaffold like a throne, the storms of life like summer weather, when Christ is with us.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, Year C, November 9, 2025

Fri, 07 Nov 2025 03:12:47 GMT

Today, we celebrate the consecration of one of our most holy places in Christendom called St. John Lateran Basilica in Rome—the cathedral church of the pope, and the Mother Church of all churches in the world. Some think it a mistake when they hear that St. John Lateran—not St. Peter’s Basilica—is the Mother Church and the pope’s own cathedral. [And having been inside it, I rank it the most beautiful church in the world]. Cathedral comes from the word cathedra , which means, chair. A cathedral is the seat of the diocese; and it is from the cathedral, where the ‘cathedra’ (chair) of the bishop is located that he governs. The cathedral is not simply a big church building. Wherever the bishop’s cathedra (chair) is, there is the cathedral. Here, size doesn’t matter.

So, why honor this church? Perhaps a short history might help. The first few hundred years of Christianity was tough. In fact, that might be an understatement. There was unthinkable hostility toward Christians. They were called extremists, accused of being atheists, and arch-disruptors of peace and concord. As punishment, Christians, by imperial decree, were thrown to lions and wild beasts; they were burned alive. Their burning bodies provided torches to the emperors and spectators at the “Gladiator Games,” where they feasted their eyes on incredible cruelty, which they called “games.” No one expected that being burned alive and used as torches was part of what Jesus meant when He said, “You are the light of the world.” But it came close.

Things took a different turn when a Roman soldier named Constantine became emperor in AD 306. History has it that Constantine had a vision prior to one of his military campaigns in which he saw a cross in the sky with the words, “In this sign you shall conquer.” Learning that that was a Christian symbol, he went to battle with the cross emblazoned on his standards. He won victory, which he attributed to the cross. Upon his return, Constantine immediately put an end to the persecution of Christians, and made it legal to be Christian. He followed with building a magnificent church in a land donated by the Laterini family, which became the first open Christian church building.

This Lateran Basilica was consecrated in AD 324 and has the title of Ecumenical Mother Church of the Roman Catholic Faithful. It is the major papal, patriarchal, and Roman archbasilica cathedral of the Most Holy Savior and Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist, Mother and Head of all churches in Rome and in the world. It was the home of the popes before the present location at St. Peter’s Basilica. St. John Lateran has a special door (Jubilee Door) that is opened every twenty-five years. It is in a special sense, the church of and for all Christians—a wonderful sign of God’s providential care. This church is a sign that the Christian faith would endure as promised by the Lord. God’s design will triumph over the world and our individual wills.

Having said all that, today’s feast is not so much about a building as it is of a people who have persevered, weathered many storms, strove to be faithful—yes, imperfectly—yet, in many ways, as best as they could. We do not celebrate a magnificent building that survived; rather the faith of God’s people in whom God has chosen to make His dwelling. St. Paul writing to the Corinthians said, “You are God’s building” (I Cor 3:9)—you and I. God has desired us for His dwelling. Again, St. Paul writes, “For the temple of God, which you are, is holy” (I Cor 3:17). We’re Christians not because we come to Church, but because we’re members of Christ’s body, consecrated in baptism.

Today’s feast reminds us that as water flowed from the temple, and from Jesus’ side, we the baptized, should flow like fresh water out of the doors of every church to refresh the world. So, next time you desire to see God’s holy place or behold His temple, you need not look outside; look rather in a mirror.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Soul's Day), Year C, November 2, 2025

Sat, 01 Nov 2025 15:45:05 GMT

On a certain All Souls’ Day, I asked parishioners how many of them would love to go to purgatory, and nearly every hand in the church went up. While I was edified by their faith in the purifying grace of purgatory, I asked them to aim instead to go straight to heaven. Why save the purgation for the afterlife, when we can practice it now through the purifying charity of Christian living. No one aims to receive an “i” or “incomplete” in an important promotion exam. We want to graduate with honors. (I do not suggest, however, that Purgatory is an “i”).

There is no feast that so much unites the entire Church as the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed , also called All Souls’ Day . Why do I say this? Because on this day the whole Church is one in prayer. While some think of the Church as a building, many often think of the composition of the Church as just you and me inside a sacred space, and no more. But truly the Church has three arms. Yesterday, we celebrated All Saints in heaven and learned that they form with us members of the same Body of Christ, the Church. They have fought the good fight of faith and won the victory. Now they rejoice eternally in heaven. Hence, we call them members of the “Church Triumphant.” We who are still in the fight belong to that segment called, “Church Militant.” We are unambiguously military men and women fighting a spiritual war against evil. Remember the popular Christian hymn, “Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war, with the Cross of Jesus….” The world is a war zone, a battle field in which we fight to free ourselves from the enemy’s grip. We who are in battle are admonished by St. Paul to be battle-ready by donning our military garb, which he enumerated in Ephesians 6:10-20.

Today, we remember the third arm of the Church called— “Church Suffering.” These are the men and women who have meant the most to us, and have gone before us in faith, yet waiting to be purified for the glory of heaven. The way I often explain it imperfectly is that the holy souls in purgatory have been judged and found worthy of God; however, on their way to heaven, they had to make a stopover at the “car wash” to get their “vehicle” cleaned and waxed, so it might shine out. We call them “Church Suffering” not because we know the extent of suffering to which they undergo in purgatory, but because their journey is “delayed.” If you have experienced a delay in your flight as you travel, you know how disconcerting that can be. When you are boarded and already taxiing then told the flight can’t proceed because of some mechanical, electrical or whatever problem; often you’re made to sit in the aircraft for hours. Your journey is delayed, your hope of catching the next flight tumbles. In the afterlife when duration is not counted in minutes and hours—in fact, there is no time, only eternity—that can translate to several decades or centuries in human terms . That is the suffering in purgatory. Some saints, though, who passed through purgatory have revealed in visions to the living that, “yes,” there’s fire, as hot or hotter than the fire with which the goldsmith purifies gold.

If I ask you to show by the raise of hand if you think that there’s something worth fixing in your life, I’m sure everyone will concur. We cannot carry them to heaven, just as we can’t fly a faulty plane. We cannot presume to walk into our own clean house if we had stepped on mud, without first removing our sludge-infested shoes. Jesus made explicit that “ only the pure in heart can see God” (Mtt 5:8) and that “we should be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect” (Mtt 5:48). He has done the essential saving work of redeeming us from our sins, and opening heaven to us. We’re then to let go of every sin, and attachment to sin. Only Perfect Charity opens our eyes to see that to which mortality blinds us; and we can only thank God for this final purifying gift.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, October 26, 2025

Fri, 24 Oct 2025 21:06:58 GMT

I learned that the reason why folks prefer the back row when they come to Mass is to identify with the humility of the tax collector in today’s gospel: and I say, “Bravo” to the back-seaters. I do hope, though, that the back-seaters do not develop the attitude of another back-seater tax collector who rather prayed: “God, I thank you that I’m not like the rest of these do-gooders, and front-sitting Pharisees. I may be dishonest and adulterous, but I’m grateful not to be a hypocrite like them.”

My point is that it doesn’t matter where you sit. The desire to judge, exalt and justify oneself can always find a reason—even in one’s pretentious humility, or in the back, middle or front seat of the Church. In fact, the greatest hypocrisy of our time comes with the labelling of others—especially those who make effort to be good—as hypocrites, while those in the muddy waters of moral relativism pride themselves as regular, good people. And those are the ones that society idolizes, canonizes and emulates. Goodbye good men and women!

“O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity,” sounds arrogant, outrageous, and harsh; yet many of us, in our different holy camps, carry that same sort of attitude. The poor judge the rich as wicked, and the rich judge the poor as lazy; the old judge the young as senseless, and the young judge the old as outdated; whites judge blacks, and blacks judge whites; conservatives judge liberals, and liberals and progressives judge conservatives and traditionalists; the new sanctimonious center (or middle) judge everyone else and you dare not judge them. America judges the rest of the world and vice versa. What’s everyone saying? If only the rest of the world were a little bit more like me, the world would be a great place. There’s a Pharisee in each one of us.

The Pharisee of today’s gospel was not a bad person; he has a lot going for him. He didn’t cheat his neighbor; many of us can’t say so. He fasted twice a week; we quarrel with mere abstinence from meat on Fridays only. He tithed his income to God; the chart shows that we’re stingier than our parents, and for St. John’s, only 25 percent of those who show up here give anything at all. He prayed four times a day; we applaud ourselves when we make it to Mass once a week. If everyone tries to live like this Pharisee, surely the world about us would be a more delightful place. But here is the bad news about this man, and even worse for us: He was a proud prig, swept off by his self-importance; and so are we, oftentimes. William James reminds us: “A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices.” The Pharisee’s prayer consisted of trumpets and accolades to his humble self. The worship that day was to himself. He found in the world two perfect people—himself and God—and he wasn’t even sure God was that perfect—the reason he was, perhaps, in his prayer wondering why God hasn’t yet congratulated him and sent him a “Thank You” card or some award plaque.

The tax collector was surely a bad person. We wouldn’t like to hear his stinking story. The good news: he was humble. The word humility was born from the Latin word, “humus,” meaning ‘earth’ or ‘ground.’ To work out an equation between the Pharisee and the tax collector is Jesus’ motif in the parable. Take the good in the Pharisee and the humility of the tax collector and you form a perfect child of God. The pride of the Pharisee and the evil life of the tax collector cancel each other out. Sadly though, the last two are what many choose to retain. Not only are their lives evil, they’re proud of it. No one has been able to improve on the famous expression that “pride goes before the fall.” But for heaven, it might be too high but its entrance gate is so low that to pass we must stoop in humility. This is represented by the very short entrance door to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. Pilgrims find that to enter into the mystery of Christ, we must bend the knee and be as humble as the One who stripped Himself of divine glory in order to become human like us.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, October 19, 2025

Sat, 18 Oct 2025 16:37:54 GMT

A priest went with a friend to a boxing match. At the introduction of the contestants, one of the boxers approached the ring wearing a rosary bead round his neck. As the gong sounded to start the contest, the ‘devout’ boxer added a triple sign of the cross. Seeing this boxer’s manifest devotion, the priest’s friend turns to him and asks: “Father, will that help him?” “Yes,” replies the cleric, “if he can box” (James Gilhooley). Now, that’s the true nature of prayer.

Jesus is teaching us about prayer in the famous story we heard today. A judge who would always get swayed by bribes and favoritism was coerced to pass a just sentence without the benefit of his usual baksheesh. And this, by a widow who simply was a relentless pest. Seeing that she lacked the socio-economic or political clout to influence the judge, she decided to pick her own battlefield. She told herself, “I’ll hound him continuously and won’t stop until he sees the need to deliver justice.” I like a little stubbornness in people, because some stubborn people can be fun and exciting. The cold, insipid, complaining, persecution-complex, tired and moody types are just not fun. This lady could have chosen to wring her hands and cry, “why me, why me? ...misfortune, misfortune;” but chose not to drawn in self-pity. She rather prayed, “Why not?”

You’ve probably received those annoying phone calls where the marketer at the other line pesters you to buy a product, switch your cable network, internet or phone service. Years ago, when I was chaplain of the Newman Center at the University of Tulsa, I was leaving my house for an engagement at TU when the phone rang. At the rectory in Sapulpa where I lived then, the phone will always announce a caller’s name. I would always ignore “Unknown Callers” or 1800-numbers. But that day, the name announced on the machine was “Ben S.” I said to myself, this could be a parishioner calling for sick-visit. Do you know what? The lady who called kept me on the phone for the next 10 minutes pestering me any way she could to buy health insurance. Not wanting to rudely hang up, she succeeded in keeping me late for my appointment.

Now, let’s look at today’s parable. What is Jesus telling us? Is He suggesting that if we need something from God, we should hound Him until we wear Him down? Or conversely, we just send a tweet or an iMessage to God and expect our request by same day FedEx? Either way, it wouldn’t seem like we’re communicating with the One who is All-good, All-knowing, All-loving, and All-powerful. Like everything though, prayer has certain ground-rules.

First is our faith. We have to believe in the power of God to grant our prayer, and not program ourselves for a plan-B should He, by our reckoning, delay. James Tahaney once said, “It isn’t our prayer that God hears but our confidence.” Second is what we bring with prayer. We’ve got to use our own abilities and intelligence to complement God’s part. Thus, one who prays for a good job would have to sit down to construct good application letters to the right agencies, post the letters, pray, and then wait. Sr. Ruth Fox was right that, “if we’re praying to move the proverbial mountain spoken of in Mtt 17:20, we’ve got to remember to also bring a shovel.” The boxer opening this reflection can hardly expect God’s help if he hasn’t trained sufficiently. Third is our expectation. Let’s face it: we shouldn’t expect to receive everything for which we pray. Nothing in life works that way. For example, the lady who called me to buy insurance would never in a millennium have got a positive answer from me. If she knew that I was a priest and that priests are on a group insurance, she would have spent her 15 minutes more profitably. So, if I can reasonably turn down another’s request, why can’t God do the same to me? God indeed answers every prayer, but sometimes He’s going to say no. That’s why Jesus taught us to say, “Thy will be done.” Finally, after doing all we can and have to, we must, like Moses, keep our hands lifted up in prayer, supported by the Church —signified by the rock on which Moses sat; and Aaron and Hur steadying his hands on either side—in steady combat of prayer and praise.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, October 12, 2025

Fri, 10 Oct 2025 16:13:58 GMT

A newly elected mayor of a certain city was seeking the support of all stakeholders in his constituency. He had heard much about the priest in the city’s small Catholic Church and invited him out to dinner at an expensive restaurant, to which the priest obliged with gratitude. As the food arrived, the mayor pulled his silverware and started eating. The priest asked, “Don’t you say some prayer of thanksgiving before eating?” The mayor replied: “There’s no need to thank anyone, except perhaps me, for paying for the food.” He added, “I earned the money by the sweat of my brow; so after paying for the food, it becomes mine and I just dig in.” The priest retorted, “Sounds like what my dog Sally would do. She digs in, once she sees her food.” You bet...the two men had an exciting evening!

Many in the society behave like Mr. Mayor. For them, everything that came their way resulted from their hard work, while only lazy people are miscarried, stillborn or aborted. By their power they had loving parents who didn’t abandon them in pursuit of alcohol and drugs. Their hard work made them American citizens instead of Sudanese or Afghans or Syrians. By their hard work they earned eyes to see, feet to walk, intelligence and beauty, which the lazy people lack. Don’t you see that it’s easy to grow accustomed to the blessings that surround us and forget to give thanks ?

The Gospel today presents us with ten lepers, nine of whom were of Jewish descent, and one a Gentile. At the time of Jesus, leprosy was the most dreaded disease, consigning its sufferers to a new social condition as outcasts. A Jew who suffered from leprosy became socially-speaking a gentile; hence, leprosy was the factor that united the Jewish lepers with the Samaritan leper. Calamity often unites people so they forget differences. If a natural disaster occurs and animals run for dear life, tigers, lambs and rabbits, raccoons and cats can congregate at some safe ground in peace with each other. After 9/11 the Democrats and the Republicans were of one mind, and passed bills that would otherwise have involved deeply contentious partisan battles.

Jesus heard the cries of these lepers and healed them; but no sooner had they found themselves healed than their differences set in. The Samaritan could no longer join the now ‘clean Jews’ to the temple. Their bodies might have been healed but they still carried the stench of racial division. Leprosy was just only one of the problems that the Samaritan had, and perhaps the least. His deeper social situation remained—a gentile and an outcast. Luke’s motif in this Gospel account was that the gentile is one whom God received without consideration of social, religious or any other status. While the now healed leprous Jews went to their temple priest, the Samaritan returned to the one who embodies the TEMPLE and the PRIESTHOOD—the Incarnate Son of God. He showed himself with thanks to the High Priest of the New Covenant, who alone could sign him off as totally redeemed in body and spirit. The Lord looked out to him as a member of the human community, not as Asian, Hispanic, European or African.

St. Paul asks in the second reading, “What do you have that you have not received?” (I Cor 4:7). It’s not by our making that we’re born strong or weak, beautiful or less so, rich or poor; hence, thanksgiving is a debt we owe. Thanksgiving and praise might be the most lacking thread in our prayer tapestry. A spiritual author notes that “gratitude draws benefits, and the benefactor loves to be reminded of his bounty.” We owe gratitude for God’s many blessings. The Mass is the most potent way to give God thanks, given its name— Eucharistia, which means “Thanksgiving.” It’s a shame that some stop attending Mass claiming they’re busy with stuff; like the nine lepers who so wanted to return quickly to a busy life after their healing that they ignored their healer. Be like Naaman and the Samaritan: give thanks for all God’s benefits.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, October 5, 2025

Fri, 03 Oct 2025 22:01:16 GMT

A few months before my priestly ordination, I was going through a pile of books in an old bookstore and came across a book with the title: “Is There Anyone There?” It sounded like a question that came from the deepest part of me, given that at that time, I was a bit confused whether to make up my mind for the priesthood. I quickly paid for the book, got home and spent the rest of the day reading it. The book tells a story of a young athlete who during one of his customary early morning exercises decided to take a rout he wasn’t used to and fell into a deep hole caused by a terrible flood. But halfway down the hole, he was lucky to catch hold of the root of a tree that cut across the pit. He managed to grab it and hold on to it, thanking God that everything was not yet over. He prayed for help, and suddenly got an idea. He looked up and could see that the day was breaking and decided to shout out: “Is there anyone there?” Unbelievably, he heard a voice that said: “Yes, I’m here. I’m Jesus your savior. I have heard your prayer and have come to save you.” The man replied, “Thank you Jesus!” Then the Lord continued, “Quickly, let go of the root on which you’re holding.” The athlete thought about that for a little while and then shouts back, “Is there anyone else there?” Take a moment and ask yourself whether you’ll let go of the root if you were in this man’s position.

The athlete in this story is a believer like us. He prayed for help when he was in need. We do likewise. Several of us pray only when we’re in need. Not too bad! The man got an answer to his prayer that did not match his hopes. He had faith but no trust. The root of the tree would momentarily hold his life until he reaches exhaustion and would be forced anyway to let go of it and fall to his utter ruin. Perhaps, he reasoned, as we often do, that if God was serious about saving him, He could have thrown down a rope or manufactured some tiny helicopter that would get down the hole with a crew to rescue him. He wanted God to save him on his own terms, not on the Almighty’s terms.

Who is this man? Who is this athlete? He is you and me. We are the ones midway between collapse and God’s salvation. We claim we believe in God but when the going gets tough and things do not work out as it pleases us, we take matters into our own hands, ignore and marginalize God, and seek manmade solutions. We hold on to the root that can sustain us only momentarily. Hence, the cure our society presents for sadness is to get drunk and hooked on happy-pills; for marriage problems, we divorce; for prolonged sickness, we euthanize; for disagreements, we hate, destroy property, and sue.

We believe, yes, but we are people of little faith. Do we recognize that our faith is weak? Then, we should ask the Lord, like the disciples, to increase our faith. We notice that Jesus didn’t just reach into his pocket and pull out some dose of faith and hand to them. There’s no supercenter where we can purchase faith nor can we order some faith-pills on Amazon or an online Faith-store. Jesus’ response to the apostles, “If your faith is as tiny as the mustard seed…” tells us that we need not do too much. We need only trust.

The parable of the unprofitable servant teaches us to anchor our faith in the person of Jesus, in the service of Him and His Church, and on the sacraments of salvation. We must put first at all times the will and pleasure of God. If we do, it is possible let go of our imaginary and false securities. We can let God use us as He wills—maximizing our potentials. As the unknown author of the book, “Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody” puts it, “we could at the same time be all of the above.” In a cantankerous world, Everybody usually thinks that Somebody will do it, but Nobody realizes that Anybody wouldn’t. It ends up that Everybody blames Somebody when Nobody does what Anybody could have done. Be your own person; be a person of faith.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, September 28, 2025

Sat, 27 Sep 2025 15:57:01 GMT

The Great Depression that hit the US between 1929 and 1939 brought about massive economic hardship. But while the poor formed long queues to get their ration of soup in New York, the affluent in Long Island managed to put up a surprise party. The menu: all you could eat of the best steaks—for dogs; the price was $100 a plate (McKarns). In Hollywood, newspaper magnate, Randolph commissioned his mansion with enough bedrooms for the 94 special guests invited for his New Year’s eve (1932) party, featuring a Kid’s Masquerade. The party was so extravagant that a news reporter had to apologize to listeners, explaining that the beauty of the party was that the costumes were inexpensive—only $700 apiece. Here, the actual Lazarus meets the real Dives, who live pampered, comfortable lives while the poor are devastated by want.

Before penning these words, I searched the scripture to find anywhere Jesus directly condemned someone for being wealthy. I found none. Likewise, I didn’t find anywhere he praised someone for being poor. But I found many passages warning about the dangers of material prosperity. The rich man’s sin was not a sin of commission, rather that of omission. He was condemned not because he had possession but because he failed to take notice of the poor right at his nose. He could even be regard as an “okay guy” for tolerating the sight of Lazarus at the gate of his mansion and permitting him to check out his garbage for food. Lazarus must have smelled so awful as to attract street dogs that found their meal in his wounds. Dives, I suppose, would be kinder than many of us who would rather call the cops to haul that ugly sight, Lazarus, off our property.

All of us here today are the five brothers and sisters of the rich man. We may not be as rich as Elon Musk or Oprah Winfrey, but in comparison with the rest of the world, we are fabulously wealthy. Warm clothes, air-conditioned rooms and cars, food and drink are within the beck and call of many. While others worry about not getting enough calories, our worry is too much calories. So our rich brother, Dives warns us from hell: “I want to warn you about the danger of riches; riches of all kinds—money, intelligence, health, power, and social or religious status. These can lead you to forget about God and others. That’s what happened to me. I thought I was successful, but from where I am now, I realize that God truly identifies with every Lazarus of the world—the hungry, the sick, the unborn, the immigrant, and the prisoner. One of them is lying at your door right now. Open your eyes—for if you establish a chasm between Lazarus and yourself, you’re doing the same between you and God—(Dives from Hell).”

Certainly, we’re incapable of meeting the needs of everyone in the world. When disaster strikes in the other parts of the world, we usually feel helpless given that scammers take advantage of every crisis. We must begin at home, where charity beckons, and support our parish, Catholic Charities, the Day Center for the Homeless that help you serve the poor.

There’s another troubling fact which today’s Gospel clears for us. Polls show that majority in our society, including Catholics do not believe in hell or Satan. Years ago, a Catholic School in Tulsa barred me from ever celebrating school Mass for them because the last time I did, I ignored a directive from the school authorities to change the reading of the day in which reference was made to hell. (You can imagine how deprived I felt). They and many others believe only in God, heaven, peace, and love. Sadly, there’s a serious problem with that judgment. It’s like believing in health and denying sickness or insisting that all students get an “A+” grade in a quiz whether or not they got the answers right. My promise to you all is that I will never redact the words of scripture so someone may feel happy. Christ spoke about hell for about ninety times, and should I be free to change His words for anyone’s comfort?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, September 21, 2025

Fri, 19 Sep 2025 22:57:17 GMT

One late evening, a gunman accosted a finely-dressed man who just parked in front of an expensive jewelry store in Washington DC. Pointing the gun at him, he demanded, “Hand me all YOUR money.” The man was indignant and busted out: “Do you know the person you’re threatening? I’m a US Congressman!” “Oh,” replied the gunman, “in that case, hand me MY money.” That sounds like what the rich man in today’s Gospel wanted: his money (J. Robinson).

The gospel story sounds complex but it actually isn’t. The shrewd and unjust steward of the parable might have done some other thing because of which his master is sending him packing. The gospel passage was silent about this. But that he lowered the value or amount owed by debtors to his master was nothing unusual in the commercial circumstances of the time. What he did was subtract a substantial amount of his commission so the debtor could pay only the amount that the master merited. Technically, it was he who lost money. You can compare it to the prudence of a baseball team that trades away a good player because he is eligible for free agency and will leave anyway. You remember when the Thunder made the blunder of letting Kevin Durant’s contract expire, allowing him to walk free to any team he wanted? They should have sold him a year or so before the expiration date. That’s being shrewd.

The servant in the Gospel was astutely working his way into another job; in fact, he created many opportunities for himself by the favor he did to the debtors. We do that ourselves in many ways when making business deals—whether it is selling our used car or house or equipment. You don’t spend money to paint the house you’re putting on the market because you want to do a favor to the buyer. You do so because you think it’ll raise its value and bring in more cash. Businesses psychologically manipulate the buyer by marking a product $19.99 to create the illusion that it’s less than $20. Sprinters try to anticipate the gun so they get one false start. A center on a football team will almost always try to get a couple inches out of the referees’ blind spot. In a soccer match few seasons ago, Messi deceived the goalie by not shooting a penalty straight to the post, but rather passed it to his teammate, Suarez, who scored cleanly. It’s a trick of the game that isn’t necessarily bad.

Here’s Jesus’ concern in the parable: we do not apply this same ingenuity to the one thing that really matters, namely—our eternal salvation. He’s asking how often we sit down to plot how to use our talents to become better Christians? How many times have you thought out ways to circumvent moral problems when they arise? What’s your best tactic for defeating the temptation to pornography? Have we sat down to plot how to implant the practice of faith in our family? We do these in mundane areas like commerce and politics but are less resourceful in planning for our eternal salvation.

Amos decries the astuteness with which people cheat with scales, inflate money in order to pull a windfall from the poor. But when it involves the things of the spirt, people surrender their cleverness. Hence, the Gospel centers on 1) the condition of the rich before God ; 2) the abuse of riches ; and 3) how to make reparations for this abuse. The rich person who may be a CEO, a manager or a store-man is not the absolute owner of wealth. Its true owner is God. We’re only secondary, relative and dependent stewards of God’s gifts and talents. We should not abuse, rather use them in distributive justice to advance the good of all, especially the poor. The poor beg in God’s name for charity and justice in the allocation of God’s gifts to all. Am I advocating that you give all your money to the first guy you find standing at the street corner? No! But we must give until it hurts, recalling this epitaph on an English tombstone: “What you kept, you lost; what you spent, you had; but what you gave, you have.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross , Year C, September 14, 2025

Sat, 13 Sep 2025 03:55:16 GMT

You won’t need look far before seeing someone wearing a cross, either as pendant on their necklaces or as pinstripe on the lapel or even as ring in their finger (as I’m wearing one). The cross has gained such power that countries like Switzerland, Austria, Greece, Norway, New Zealand, Finland, Denmark, and Fiji, to name a few, adopted it as part of their national symbols, and the Geneva Convention adopted it as the symbol for the Red Cross. In doing so, it associates the symbol with healing, medical services, equipment, and personnel.

But it’s always someone else’s cross – Jesus’ own cross – that we wear. None of us would like to wear his or her own cross, or exalt in it. Despite its wide usage, the cross is perhaps what is most hated, abhorred, and scorned in the world. No one wants to entertain the idea of the cross in its various manifestations – sickness, suffering, and death. After she was diagnosed with colon cancer, an 81-year-old woman wanted her priest to explain why God was punishing her. The priest told her about a 27-year-old friend with the same diagnosis who told him that it was his cross, which he was happy to carry.

Today’s feast says exactly the same thing, but in a much more sublime way. “Christ Jesus,” St. Paul tells the Philippians, “Emptied himself…becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God highly exalted him” (Philippians 2:8-9a). The feast we celebrate draws its name from this scripture passage. Historically, too, it celebrates the discovery of the True Cross by Empress Helena, mother of Constantine, on September 14 in AD 320. [Legendry and historical inconsistences of the story of the finding of the true cross do not diminish the essence and spiritual import of the feast].

St. John Paul tells us that “the cross is the first letter of God’s alphabet.” God created the world with the cross in view. Without the cross, human life and history would make no sense. Whenever we experience suffering, we might curse, question, cry, point fingers, and even accuse God and others to our own detriment. We have the other option of listening to God as He points to us the cross of His own Son. We can see Christ’s hands extended to receive, embrace, and console us. We can hear Him telling us in our suffering, “I am one with you.” We would experience one of life’s mysteries where suffering and pain unite people in genuine love more than any other experience. A person’s cross shared with others, especially with the Lord, promises life, hope, and healing.

That we cannot escape the cross shouldn’t surprise anyone, especially Christians. We are baptized into it, and buried under the sign of the cross. We sign ourselves with the cross – morning, evening, before and after meals, every time we pray. Have you noticed how many times the Sign of the Cross is repeated during Mass? The cross is an inescapable part of Christian living.

Bitten by the poison of sin and suffering – just as the Israelites were bitten by the serpent in the wilderness – God presents us with the Cross of His Son as our healing remedy. Jesus told Nichodemus: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so would the Son of Man be lifted up” (John 3:14). Interestingly, the image of the serpent on a pole represents the medical profession, showing that doctors and nurses are healers, not killers (as in abortion and euthanasia).

But the wound of sin cannot be healed by medicine and psychology, no matter how advanced. Only the cross can heal us. St. Peter echoing the words of the prophet Isaiah says, “By his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5-6; I Peter 2:24). And Jesus says, “When I am lifted up, I shall draw all men to myself” (John 12:32); thus He embraces us in our sinfulness as He did those who nailed Him. In that, He shows that the cross is, according to the Venerable Fulton Sheen, the tree that bathes with perfume even the axe that cuts it.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, September 7, 2025

Sat, 06 Sep 2025 00:35:37 GMT

Still reeling from the tragedy of the brutal murder of two innocent kids and injuries to other school children and parents during a school Mass in the Annunciation Church/School, Minneapolis tragedy, many are still puzzled as to why a child raised in the Catholic faith would suddenly turn into an agent of Satan, unleashing anti-Catholic hatred and violence toward the faith, and especially against children gathered for Mass. The answer will vary; but may I suggest these: Lack of depth in the knowledge and practice of the faith, especially on the part of parents; religion divorced from relationship with Christ; decades of flawed catechesis; and alignment with the spirit of the world and Satan himself.

If we ask, on the contrary: What made the saints such extraordinary people of holiness? The answer is simple: They took seriously the words of Jesus in today’s gospel, becoming so powerfully gripped by Him that they understood that love for Jesus constituted rejection of self and all that we jealously guard about ourselves. Don’t we often do that for even human beings we love? We lose ourselves for them and give them our heart and most guarded secrets. Though our human lovers may fail us, Jesus’ love is solid and reassuring; hence, He wants no half-hearted response, no half measures, no testing of the waters by dipping one toe in, no following just part of time. It’s all or nothing, a total commitment. No matter how much we’d hope that it isn’t true, that is truly what discipleship means and what Jesus meant in today’s gospel. Call it the fine print of Christianity , if you wish.

What must you hate as a disciple of Christ? The one, the person, the object that would draw your attention away from Christ. And yes, it could be parents, relatives, and especially friends. Included are books, movies, websites, socio-political groups, anything you own or can own that might usurp the Christ-principle within you. We must turn our backs to them as we face Christ. Simply choosing Jesus is not enough, nor is it the end of the story. To say yes to Jesus implies saying yes to all He is, all He stands for, and all He wants from us and for us. For example, you cannot say yes to Jesus and no to His mother, His Church, His command to love in the manner in which He loves. During the persecutions, the early Christians understood that “yes” to Jesus was equivalent to signing a death warrant. The Christian was a persona non grata for the state. I have predicted in the past that such may become our fate in no distant time, with the drums of war and hatred beating ferociously from all sides against Christians.

Choosing Christ also meant for Philemon, whom Paul addressed in today’s second reading, taking back his runaway slave, Onesimus, no longer as a slave, rather as a brother in Christ. Paul reminded Philemon that the moment he chose Jesus, he also chose to be a person of mercy, forgiveness, gentleness, humility, and love. Above all, in Christ all persons are equal and no one is the slave or master of the other. We all belong to Christ as servants and slaves; hence, no one should put another down, belittle them, and in a sense, enslave them through chains of superiority. The import of the short letter to Philemon was that Onesimus, whose name means “useful” and who was believed to be the preserver of this letter, as the then Bishop of Ephesus, was no longer “useless” as a runaway slave, but “useful” through his encounter with Christ.

Finally, choosing Christ means renouncing self, giving up all possessions and embracing the cross. You can tell me, you didn’t plan for that. If you’ll start this project or war and wouldn’t want to advance and win, then be prepared for the taunting of the enemy and onlookers who would make a meal of your lack of energy in the fight. But if you’re disposed to be for Christ, that choice implies being in the frontline of the battle against the evil one and the forces of wickedness. Your banner must always read: “Sign me up, I am battle-ready.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, August 31, 2025

Sat, 30 Aug 2025 13:29:09 GMT

Two egomaniacs were invited to a banquet—the Russian dictator, Josef Stalin, and his German counterpart, Adolf Hitler. Both were given seats of honor side by side each other. Noticing that their chairs could be adjusted higher or lower, each of them put considerable effort to adjust theirs to be higher, under the deluded thinking and insufferable pride that the higher they appeared on the chair corresponded with their position of importance. Those days they’d not started making stoppers for the adjustable chairs; hence, both men having adjusted their chairs to the limit, fell to the floor. So much for honor, position and pride. Jesus tells us today that honor is rightly honor when given and not taken.

The first reading has a clear message for both men and all who think very highly of themselves, craving self-affirmation. The sage, Ben Sirach admonishes that “the greater you are, the more you should behave humbly,” warning that “there is no cure for a proud man’s malady, since an evil growth has taken root in him” (Sirach 3:20). Pride is a form of cancer that can easily destroy a person from within. It does not show itself until it has wrecked the life of the prideful. As pride can destroy a person, so can it destroy a nation or a society. Pride can infect and destroy a person so that he becomes insensitive to his misjudgments and fools around in servile flattery and bloating of the ego. Pride can infect a society to the extent that mechanized opinions turn into technologically created and emplaced pseudo-reality. It can destroy a nation, making its government and citizens oblivious of the dangers surrounding them and rather dance around the Trojan horse in their midst. Pride is an evil that can get so deeply ingrained into a person—into the fibers of his muscles, the cells of his blood, the fissures of his brain that he revolts against the very thought of its removal by Perfect Goodness (Sheen). No one is immune from prideful thinking.

We must state that not every use of the word “pride” is evil. We can be proud of our mother (I certainly am); we can and should be proud of our nation and our heritage. To some degree, we should be proud of our gifts, talents and accomplishments, albeit with a spirit of humility, realizing that everything we are and have is a gift from the one who designed and made us, but also through others’ help and support. Such humility recognizes who we are, but does not lie, adulate, flatter or admire servilely. Just as it would be prideful to blow our talents out of proportion, it would also not be humble for a six-foot tall person to say that he’s only five-foot tall or an opera singer to say “I’m tone deaf.” In fact, the latter might just be another prideful way of fishing for compliments and expecting someone to say: “Oh, you’re such a talented singer.”

A picture of “ a turtle on a fencepost” was how Alex Haley, author of the novel, Roots reminds himself that he didn’t get to where he was by himself alone, but was helped by others. I always remember the people who guided me through my vocation to the priesthood. I remember that (in my judgment) I failed the entrance interview to the minor seminary. But one of the priests who interviewed me insisted, for reasons known only to him, that I should be accepted for formation. Similarly, I left the seminary few months before my ordination, but the rector made every effort to have me back to complete my formation. And as I recall my ordination to the priesthood 28 years ago, the picture that comes to my mind is yet that of the turtle on a fencepost, to remind me that I didn’t get here without a lot of help from others. I honestly do not think myself better than many classmates who left or didn’t make it. I’m sure that I must have had the same doubts they which had, and perhaps, made similar mistakes that caused some of them to be asked to withdraw. That is why I think of myself as a clay in God’s hand and an earthenware jar holding within me immeasurable gifts that are totally undeserved.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, August 24, 2025

Sat, 23 Aug 2025 18:09:37 GMT

You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to identify the direction Jesus is going in today’s gospel. In a very blunt language, He tells us that no one has a lock on heaven. Heaven isn’t a summer home you visit when the temperature in Oklahoma turns 112. Rather, it is an everlasting home and reward for faith and a lifetime of good hard work. Hence, Jesus speaks about the narrow gate of courage and striving, not of apathy.

We all need a re-introduction to the real Christ. We must stop living in a fantasy world in relation to Christ whom some consider a naïve easy-peasy guy, as depicted by modern motivational speakers, who claim to be preachers. Jesus is actually a no-nonsense man who tells it like it is. The gospel today reveals that his favorite sport wouldn’t be softball but hardball. Jesus invites us, like players at the Olympics, to be disciplined, to practice constantly, have a strong belief in our calling and great determination to win the prize.

Some Catholics often justify their faith life by speaking about their past accomplishments in the Church—how they went to Catholic school, attended religious education class, and served at a Pope’s Mass. Some years ago, at St. Pius X, someone walked into the office with a request to put her child in the school, arguing that the Church should pay for that, or give her the same subsidy given to Catholics who are in Church every week supporting the Church and the school. She prefaced her request with a summary of past Church involvements. When I asked where she attended Church, she told me she hadn’t been to Church for years, but that I should understand that she grew up in Brazil, which is 99 percent Catholic; attended Catholic school for nine years, was even confirmed, just that since 13 years, after her abusive marriage to some “Mr. Terrible,” she’d not been practicing. Does that storyline sound familiar? She hoped that her past deeds would get her by. [I sympathized with her, especially about the abusive marriage but reminded her that the marriage was her choice and not an imposition by the Church or anyone. She would have been enrage if she was told, during those years when the passions were running riot to discern properly before marrying the then “Mr. Adorable”].

Here we have an example of people who coast through life thinking their past is all that matters. Yet, one’s present relationship with God is the only true barometer for judging spiritual life. It matters whether you’re still walking that difficult road that leads to the narrow gate. If you’re not on that road, tell yourself the truth: you probably might be lost. You need to retrace your steps. Jesus wants you and me to consider the possibility that we might not be saved. One of the gentlest theologians of the Church, Cardinal Hans Urs von Balthasar put it this way: “It is indispensable that every individual Christian be confronted, in the greatest seriousness, with the possibility of his or her becoming lost.”

I do not in any way mean this to frighten us but to encourage us to keep rowing against the torrent and toward the narrow gate of heaven. Evil is all around us. It invites us to an immoral party, to an immoral life, to a life of hatred and dissipation. It tells us that plenty of people we know are at the party. It is easy to join them; but much harder to go a different direction. The different direction is the narrow gate of which Jesus speaks in today’s gospel. It is easier to go through the wide gate, to go along with the crowd, and there are many who’ll argue persuasively that it makes more sense to be like “everyone.”

The spiritual life, on the other hand, presents a different formula. Holiness calls us to be one of the few who reject the values of the crowd. Christian life is forever a task of being ahead of the crowd. As the great Oklahoman, Will Rogers, put it, “even if you think you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if all you do is just sit there.” Keep your gaze fixed on Christ.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, August 17, 2025

Sat, 16 Aug 2025 00:46:00 GMT

We cannot fail to wonder why the Lord Jesus whom we know as the Prince of Peace would make deeply disturbing and very perplexing statements as the ones in today’s gospel: “I have come to bring fire upon the earth, and how I wish it were already blazing! Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” How do you square being a Prince of Peace with an agent of division? Jeremiah—His Old Testament type—was targeted and thrown to the bottom of a cistern for making similar statements and prophesying doom to Israel.

We are like Israel of old . We don’t want anyone telling us that we or our kids aren’t that great. We don’t want to hear that some of our ideas aren’t in tune with reality. And if someone dares tell it like it is, he’s marked a “hater,” and has one or two of those modern phobias. Someone shared me how she got into trouble for what she said at a dinner party where everyone was having fun discussions about their kids, the just concluded PGA tournament, the Olympics, the lies of politicians, the newly discovered blue pill for guys and contraceptive pills. The tone of the conversation is fun, pleasant, and enjoyable. And then, she breaks the “peaceful and fun” atmosphere by saying: “I was at Mass last Sunday and the priest was speaking about the evils of contraception, and…” Everyone around the table freezes. People begin to look at each other, wondering: “Didn’t she get the memo?” She has broken the cardinal rule of conversation.

You know the rule: Never talk about religion on the dinner table. You just don’t. It makes people uncomfortable. It causes arguments. We’re better off sticking with things that are less controversial. We want things to be nice, pleasant, and cordial. Conflict? Just avoid it. In fact, she set the place on fire, awakening the divisions in ideology—political and religious. That’s the fire, my friends, that Jesus brings. It rages fiercely when uncomfortable truths are told.

Within our faith community, too, several priests got the memo and apply the same rule at the pulpit: No controversy; stick to what will make people feel good and want to return next Sunday. They have enough worries at home—the impending divorce, custody battles, bills, insurance, the weight they have to lose, kids’ sports activities, the next vacation, mounting interests on their credit cards, Dow Jones, S&P, gas prices, terrorism, etc., etc. So, when they come to Church, spare them of the challenges of Church doctrine, evangelization, discipleship; rather, give motivational talks to make them forget their problems (for a while). Make them laugh to quell their sorrows. Tell them about God’s mercy, not sin and judgment; and that Jesus only wants them to “love.”

Does the Jesus of today’s gospel sound that way? I got into trouble with a parishioner a few years back, because I’d preached that Catholics who missed Mass on Assumption have mortal sin in their soul and would need to go to confession before they receive the Eucharist. Right after Mass, this guy confronted me like an attack dog: “I totally disagree with you. Where is it in the Bible that if you miss Mass on Assumption, you have committed a mortal sin?” Something clear to me was that my homily thrust a red-hot coal right inside his heart and conscience. He needed to be humble, confess his sin, and be freed.

Jesus knew very well that not everyone would accept His teachings. He knew that the portrait of God He was painting was much different from the way many understood God; the kingdom about which He spoke was the exact opposite of that for which the Jews hoped. But that didn’t stop Him, nor would the divisions, ideologies, and opinions of today’s society stop the Church from declaring the truth. Intentional disciples of Christ inherit through baptism the dignity and duty of carrying the prophetic message and being Christ’s ambassadors who proclaim the kingdom in truth, even should they be called troublemakers.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, August 10, 2025

Sat, 09 Aug 2025 02:41:15 GMT

I request that you give a special thought to this question: If you had to describe your faith to someone, what exactly would you say? I’m not asking about your religion. I mean your faith. What do you believe? What is your strongest conviction? Would you spend some time today to articulate in one sentence the faith that guides you, which can be posted on your doorpost or written on your tombstone?

For Abraham, it is simply “a belief in a personal God who guides his life.” Shortly, all of us will recite our constitution, called the “creed.” But saying, “I believe in God” is simple. Living it is another thing altogether. For Abraham, and yes, for me, it means putting one’s trust, one’s very life in the hands of God—even without understanding much and knowing even less. So, Abraham, like me, would do what would seem impossible to many: picking up and moving to a foreign land, not on a business trip, or a visit to a friend, but actually leaving everything behind to start life anew. Why would someone do that? Abraham did it because he believed that God wanted him to. For me, it is because I believe there’s someone to whom I have surrendered my life. I am a clay in His hand, ready to be molded as He desires. And that fits the definition of faith given in today’s second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews: “Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen” (11:1).

Someone told me that she was an agnostic because she doesn’t believe what she can’t see. I said: “You sure do believe what you don’t see. You do believe in electricity though you don’t see it. At best, you see its effects. You believe in the wind, gravity, and life itself. You believe in love, truth, goodness, evil, though you can’t see, feel, or touch them.” These concepts are intangible mysteries that are so real that we do not bother to ask where they are, but we know and believe them. Seeing is believing is not only a poor theology, it is also poor physics, and especially, a poor excuse for unbelief.

The lazy theology of the modern mindset is that it doesn’t matter what you believe as long as you are nice. And “nice” can mean anything. In fact, nice is an intangible construct that has to be deconstructed according to a person’s perceptions, and often hardly based on objective truth. “Who am I to judge?” is the new buzzword. Your nice and my nice need not agree. Hence, you can steal from your company, the public purse, or your parents; and if you’re not caught, you can qualify as nice. You can lie, twist, hide evidence, and outsmart the populace, and still be nice. You can even run for the presidency. Somehow, we’ve got to the point where we view all paths as equal; one belief system as good as another. The reality is that what we believe, what we hold dear can have, and always will have a profound impact on who we are, how we see the world, what we do, the choices we make—good or bad, right or wrong.

Let us take a moment and think about some of the people who have expressed strong convictions: Islamic extremists, animal rights champions, the gay/trans lobby, gang members, Pro-lifers, Mother Teresa. If you think that these groups or persons have not impacted society positively or negatively, you need some dose of reality meds.

Faith is a journey; a whole way of living and being, which for us started at baptism and continues through life. It’s a wild adventure filled with joys, obstacles, and challenges for which we need a lamp along the way. The Church carries that lamp, and is our guide and vehicle. It does matter which way or guardian or vehicle you choose because the right direction from McAlester to Dallas is south. Your broadmindedness can convince you to go east, taking you through mountains, a couple of oceans, deserts, and lots of frustration, i.e., hell. Christ is your true guide whose voice is clearly heard in the Church.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, August 3, 2025

Sat, 02 Aug 2025 03:14:04 GMT

A sign outside one Church reads: “Do not wait for the hearse to take you to Church.” They’re words for one who has no room for God. Wealth and possessions are typically blessings from God. If you’re wealthy, count it a blessing from God. Yet, possessions can assume such importance in a person’s life that they easily turn into obsessions, and in no distant time, become, rather, curses. For this reason the book of Ecclesiastes calls them vanity. “ Vanity upon vanity, the preacher says, all is vanity” (Eccl 1:2).

To illustrate how possessions turn some people into mindless, stupid idols of themselves, the story is told of a certain wealthy man who made his wife promise him that she would put the sum of $25,000 in his casket upon his death. He supposedly would need that to start life in the next world. Before his death, he made sure to remind his wife about the deal. In keeping with the promise she made him, the wife wrote him a check of $25,000. I hope he finds a Wells Fargo in hell.

In the course of my ministry as a priest, I have come in contact with many rich and poor people. I have met many rich people who amazed me by their simplicity and humility. I.F. Johnson was super-wealthy and loved children for whom he bought school supplies at the beginning of each school year. He would dedicate a full day to go from school to school and class to class distributing school supplies to poor kids. Everyone loved and remembered him, not for his wealth, but for his kindness to poor children. I have also met rich people who see nothing else but the amount in their bank accounts, their gold and silver, their mansions, cars, degrees, and so forth. And I pity them because they add burden upon burden on themselves in effort to enthrone the god, Mammon. The mindset that success is predicated on what we own is based on a fallacy that was very clear to the philosopher, Qoheleth, who regards such as vanity. “In his riches, man lacks wisdom; he is like the beasts that are destroyed.”

And don’t think that it is only the rich who can be arrogant and full of themselves. I have met poor people who equally are full of whatever they think of themselves. Robert was poor and disabled, had speech impediment and depended on others for nearly all his earthly sustenance; but he was also an arrogant racist who made sure he told those who didn’t have his skin color how unfortunate they were for not being born with the “right” skin tone, and how poorly they spoke English because they didn’t have the “right” accent.

The rich fool in today’s parable was foolish, not because he was wealthy. He did nothing wrong by working hard on his farmland and wisely deciding to increase his storage space after a great harvest. Up to this point, he was wisely doing the right thing. But everything changed when he started thinking that he could live forever on Easy Street , with his wealth to support him: only he didn’t know that the time left for him was less than 24 hours.

If you’re wealthy, don’t feel guilty. Many rich people are great and holy people who serve God and others with their wealth. No suggestion is made that the poorer the wiser. In fact, several people are poor because they’re unwise. Gather all the poor and homeless in our city and give each a million dollars. I bet that in a month, several of them will be back in the streets. The word “fool,” which Jesus used for the rich man is not just reserved for rich fools. We have rich and poor fools, educated and ignorant fools, with limited thinking and no good sense. I was once taught a class by a “foolish professor,” so lacking in common sense that he turned his classroom into a podium for promoting liberal orthodoxy. When a professor says that a man can get pregnant, what else is he but a “foolish professor?” Sadly, he’s still one of those corrupting our young. To all, Paul admonishes: “Think of what is above, not of what is on earth.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, July 27, 2025

Fri, 25 Jul 2025 21:47:27 GMT

You wouldn’t think that the dialogue between Abraham and God in the first reading was prayer. Yet, we can sense how Abraham’s bromance with God was certainly a lofty dialogue, where tenderness, veneration, and boldness fuse admirably together (Motte). Though Jesus taught His disciples the “Our Father” as a model prayer, His further explanation of prayer depicted a dialogue between two friends, where one was needy and relied on the solicitude of friendship to solve the need. Similarly, Abraham was relying on his friendship with God to petition His mercy on the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.

What was the problem with these cities? The passage of the Bible we read today does not explicitly tell us, but indicates that it was atrocious, an outcry so grave as to call for the immediate wrath of God. We learn from other parts of scripture that the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah included homosexuality, lesbianism, bestiality, and necrophilia. I understand that western society has ‘overgrown’ calling some of these acts sinful; and laws have been advanced in many nations to normalize the first two, for now. In the near future, you may end up in jail if you suggest that these acts are sinful. It’ll be negligent of preachers of the word to steer clear of controversies out of fear of the billion-dollar gay lobby and its attacks. And because truth cannot be set aside, we must consistently teach that homosexuality is gravely sinful, just as fornication, adultery, theft, lying, and missing Mass on Sunday are grave sins.

Scripture is clear about sin and its effects on people, cities, and nations. As grave as scripture describes them, people who find themselves struggling with the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah or inclinations to these acts should not lose hope but trust in the love and mercy of God to deliver and free them. Rather than shout at each other, condemn and counter-condemn, we ought to join team-Abraham in bargaining with God to spare His people, for we often pursue foolishly our cravings rather than follow the ways marked for us, which lead to happiness. But choosing to remain hardened in sin ...any sin, and aligning with pressure groups that intimidate others and refer to them as “hateful” because they don’t agree with a particular lifestyle does violence to truth, love, and freedom. Let the shouting match stop!

Abraham was relentless in prayer, hoping to get the best deal he could—not for himself but for a city that was on the verge of facing divine wrath. He’s super-smart! Isn’t he? He didn’t want to ruin his chances or jeopardize the deal; so, little by little, he asks for more and more. It must have surprised him the ease with which he received everything for which he prayed. It shows that there’s something in the asking, in the persistence. Jesus emphasizes this persistence when He tells the story of the friend at midnight who wouldn’t take ’no’ for answer. He encourages us to keep asking, keep seeking, and keep knocking. The English translation creates the sense that you just ask, anyway. The Latin Vulgate says: “petite, querite, et pulsate.” These verbs in Latin are in the continuous tense and reflect better the persistence that Jesus enjoins.

Why wouldn’t God hear it once and act? We sometimes get stuck at “prayer traffic” and only the patient and determined reach the goal-line. In the line before you are the Blessed Mother, the saints and angels receiving benefits for the vast number who send their requests through them. God does not neglect anyone, but we must keep asking, seeking, and knocking. If you lose heart and turn away, you lose out. You could also be asking for sunshine to get a good tan while the farmer is asking for rain to grow the vegetables for you to feed. Judge for yourself which is more important in God’s economy? That’s why an important line in our prayer should say: “Your will be done” (Mtt 6:10).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, July 20, 2025

Sat, 19 Jul 2025 03:19:50 GMT

Who in your life is a stranger? The baby in the womb that has been judged unwanted? The person with a different political position or opinion? The immigrant next door who plays his music loud? Do you know that there’re blessings associated with tolerating or appreciating them, welcoming and treating them as fellow humans like yourself? The Psalmist declares, “Indeed, you shall receive blessings from the Lord and reward from the God who saves you” (Psalm 15). The blessings of Sarah, Abraham, Martha, Mary, and Lazarus shall be yours.

When you listen to the scripture passages of this Sunday, the theme of hospitality clearly jumps out. In the first reading, Sarah and Abraham welcome three strangers who turned out to be angels of God. The gospel recounts how Martha and her sister Mary welcomed the Lord to their home. The Responsorial Psalm sings of true righteousness as consisting of generosity, justice, and goodwill toward others. And the second reading from Paul’s Letter to the Colossians teaches us to follow Christ through bearing others’ sufferings, especially the foreigners, the gentiles, the weak, and the afflicted. While many would love to wall off the stranger, we learn from the Lord that welcoming the stranger always brings a blessing. They don’t have to look like us, speak our language, practice our faith or have our cultural values before we welcome them. We would be foolish, though, to care-freely throw our doors open; yet, that does not excuse us from hospitality. We cannot hide under security and self-preservation to live as though charity to the stranger is something odd.

We must not only welcome the stranger but do so in love, with generosity and boldness, like Martha and Mary. These two women were clearly in love with Jesus, and He treated their crushes with respect and affection. I bet dirty minds gossiped about Jesus’ relationship with them, but Jesus didn’t mind. Crucial to the mystery of the incarnation is the expectation that Jesus, the Incarnate Word of God, had to be found in a family context, in domestic scenes, with people he loved and who loved him. The parents of the girls were presumably deceased, leaving only their brother Lazarus to fend for all. At this visit, it was clear that Lazarus was not home; he worked so hard that he fell sick and died, prompting the Lord to come back and miraculously raise him up.

In Jesus’ visit to Mary and Martha, this message is given: that Jesus indeed had friends, and visited them. But the manner of hospitality for the two women differed. Without over-analyzing the perspectives, we easily notice that for Martha, service comes first, while for Mary, relationship is first. Who is right? Both are right? If the question, however, is: “which is better?” Jesus answers: “Mary has chosen the better part.” Martha’s kind of service is always admirable if it doesn’t become self-gratifying and an excuse to neglect availability to others, or to bend the knee in prayer. When my excuse for missing Mass on a Sunday is because I was helping with the pancake-breakfast, attending to my lapsed-Catholic son visiting from out of town or working hard to feed my family, I may be Martha. Service devoid of prayer is self-indulgent. The Greek philosopher, Aristotle warns that “ the vice of doing too much is the enemy of spirituality.”

We are not to choose between a Martha and a Mary. True friends and disciples of the Lord are both Martha and Mary at the same time. Similarly, in our relationship with our children, our friends and spouse, we must balance the Mary and Martha in us. Don’t work so hard to provide for your family that you do not have time to sit down, relax, play and pray with them. In a bid to put food on the table some have become total strangers to their family and God. Service and prayer must go hand in hand. Prayer makes service humble and gratuitous. Service without prayer soon becomes prideful and self-serving.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, July 13, 2025

Sat, 12 Jul 2025 13:22:16 GMT

Though the distance from Jerusalem to Jericho is merely 15 miles, the hazardous road takes a traveler from a height of approximately 2500 feet above sea level to a depth of 800 feet below. The traveler endures dusty desert terrains before meeting the plush green fields of the “City of Palms.” No traveler along this road ever forgets the long stretches and winding hills and valleys that it takes to navigate through it. Fulton Sheen told a story about this dangerous and lonely road with lots of sharp turns. During one of his pilgrimage trips, he saw a restaurant by the side of the Jericho road and stopped for a visit. It surprised him that the owner of the restaurant had some other name on the sign. His American entrepreneurial sense was steered as he told the owner, “Man, you’re losing a lot of business. Take away that sign and just write ‘Good Samaritan Inn .’” To his amazement, the Arab owner of the shop had never heard about the Good Samaritan.

The parable of the Good Samaritan won’t shock us today, having heard it many times and for many years; but it clearly sent shock waves on the spine of the people who first heard it. If I were to retell the story today, I would have to change the characters to make it relevant. For example, the first person who passed the poor victim would be a cardinal, then a bishop, or a priest; and the third person, who helped the victim, would be an al-Qaeda member. Got it? You would agree that this description puts a different light on the story. Many of us have our own Samaritan; people we exclude and can’t tolerate.

The traveler would be one like many of us, often carefree about our holy undertakings, especially our spiritual journey and discipleship. We often do not remember that the road to heaven is filled with sharp turns, long stretches, winding hills and dangerous valleys for which we require distinct accoutrements to navigate the terrains, as well as unceasing solicitation of the help of the Almighty. Lacking the wisdom to travel with our holy compatriots and the companionship of prayer and spiritual discipline, we often fall into the hands of the evil one who beat us up, rob us of our spiritual goods, and leave us soaking in guilt.

The priest who passes by the wounded man would be like any clergyman of today drawn to religious duties but so lacking in charity that the needs, hunger, and cries of the wayfarer are oblivious to him. Such spiritual torpor puts laws and formulae above the needs of God’s wounded people lying helpless in the many battlefields of the enemy. Pope Francis pleaded for the Church to become a field hospital for modern man wounded by sin. Priests, like Levites sometimes excuse themselves from the practice of charity under the pretext that they are busy with the Lord’s work and have little time for charity. The parable of the Good Samaritan says: it belongs to all to practice charity. Charity is blind: it sees no stranger, no enemy, or any of the distinctions created by hate. Charity has no measurement: no length, no width, no density, no unit, no volume, no mass, and no degree: because its true measure is to love without measure.

The Samaritan on a journey, according to Severus of Antioch, is Christ Himself, who, upon seeing humanity ravaged by the attack of the enemy didn’t pass by but stopped to pour the wine of His Word over our wounds, mixing it with the oil of His sweetness and love for us (Tit 3:4). The inn to which He took the wounded man is the Church—His Field Hospital, which He made the dwelling place and refuge of the afflicted. Inside the inn, He shows greater solicitude by bestowing grace (salvation). He leaves two coins to the innkeeper—pastors and apostles—to take good care of His patient. Those two coins represent the two Testaments, the Old and the New, coming from the same God and bearing His image. Rich gifts (the sacraments) spring from them to gladden the heart of believers and heal the infirmities of those rescued from the chaos of evil.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, July 6, 2025

Thu, 03 Jul 2025 04:47:55 GMT

During their Totuus Tuus program, a group of young facilitators of the summer catechesis taught the children a game called: “How to spot a disciple.” A child dresses up and played Peter nailed upside down the cross. Another dresses like Paul with the sword of the man who beheaded him lying on his neck. Yet, another little girl plays Maria Goretti with the stab wounds of her executioner. Discipleship comes with scars. Disciples are not pageants who fear scars on their body. The very thing that worldly models dread most, namely—scars are, according to Paul, what makes a model disciple. Stoning, beating, interrogations before worldly powers are, for Paul, marks of Christ on his body. Like a wounded veteran, old-time railroad worker with missing fingers, a disciple is known by her scars.

Last Sunday, we reflected on the two great apostles, Peter and Paul; today’s reflection centers on the universal call to discipleship. When Jesus sent out the twelve, He limited their mission “to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Today, He declares that the harvest is too great for only twelve people. Hence, He calls many more. Jewish tradition and understanding had it that there were twelve tribes of Israel and 70 nations on earth. How they arrived at the number 70, I cannot tell you; only that Jesus uses it to symbolize the universal call to discipleship, which every believer answers in baptism. If the call of the 12 represents invitation to the ordained ministry of the Church, the call of 70 or 72 disciples represents lay discipleship. And if anyone had any doubt about whether the lay faithful are called to be disciples, today’s Gospel resolves that.

The question shouldn’t be whether lay people are part of the evangelizing mission of the Church but to what degree. Currently, many have chosen to ignore the call and become merely “cultural Catholics.” Is there any doubt in our minds that cultural Catholicism is dead? Jesus announced: “Go on your way: see, I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.” We must take the Gospel to the world: the workplace, the marketplace, and the Public Square. Intentional Catholics must put on the mantle of discipleship or risk being swallowed up by the wolves prowling around today’s world (both the real and online world) and devouring souls. Disciples must pray and work: praying as if everything depended on God, and working as if everything depended on them.

The commitment to prayer and action means that we must pray for those on the frontline: the pope, bishops, priests and deacons who daily battle the enemy. The intentional Catholic has the duty to pray someone into the priesthood or religious life and commit to the good news by word, life and action—acting as a leaven, and changing the world from the inside with Christ-like attitudes. As a Catholic, people should see you as someone they can’t talk into taking bribes, doing drugs, missing Mass because a friend visited or because you’re on vacation. They should see you and immediately know that you cannot give-in to immoral behavior, lie, cheat or use God’s name in vain; and as a Catholic child, can’t disobey your parents and teachers.

Lay action also means support for the laborers in the field with your material resources, and doing so cheerfully— since laborers in the vineyard carry no purse, backpacks or sandals. Did you hear the story of the $20 and $1 bill? They finally met each other at the US Treasury where they were about to be destroyed after their long life, having got rumpled and murky. The $20 was the first to speak. “I don’t mind. I've had a good run, been to many excellent restaurants, casinos, cruise ships and malls.” Then the $20 bill asks the $1, “How about you, buddy?” Downcast, the $1 bill responded, “Lousy, awful! I’ve spent most of my life at the bottom of the collection baskets in Catholic Churches.” Generosity is integral to discipleship.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Saints Peter and Paul, Apostles, Year C, June 29, 2025

Sat, 28 Jun 2025 13:20:52 GMT

“All saints are equal, but some are more equal than others.” Today, we celebrate the feast of the two greatest apostles, Peter and Paul. To accord them high ranks among the saints is not just to sound Orwellian or depict the chicanery of democratic socialism and the hypocrisy that proclaims equality while maintaining strict hierarchical structures. We are actually presenting a true hierarchy that depicts the life of heaven. Hierarchy means “sacred order” and is used to describe the system of orders of angels and heavenly beings. In the hierarchical order of created nature, Mary the Mother of Christ stands as queen and the most exalted, followed by St. Michael and the holy angels. Next in rank is St. John the Baptist—proclaimed by the Lord as the greatest of all born of women. St. Joseph will join the rank as the foster father of Jesus. After the intimate family of Jesus, we have the two apostles, Peter and Paul. The Church always celebrates them together as two great pillars of the Christian faith. Whenever the Litany of Saints is sung or said, we not only rejoice in the gift of these ancestors in the Christian faith, we are invited to also reflect on their lives and think of where we fall in this hierarchy. Will you be counted in the roll?

Peter was divinely-blessed in his calling. He was not the first apostle to be called. He was brought to the Lord by his brother, Andrew (the First-called). A poor, impetuous fisherman from Bethsaida in Galilee, Peter must have wondered what the Lord saw in him to warrant his being chosen for the special role of headship. At the sight of him, the Lord immediately knew that he would be the headstone of the new people of God; hence, in John 1:42, He did not hesitate to make an earlier announcement of this role, “You are Simon, the son of Jonas; you shall be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, Peter.” It took a few more years before the Lord made this role explicit, as recorded in the famous dialogue with Simon in Matthew 16, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church.” His impetuosity nearly derailed him, but the Lord knew whom He had chosen, strengthening him to lead the Church from infancy in Jerusalem to the acquiring of the Christian identity in Antioch, and the firm roots that she took in Rome. The landmark of Peter’s faith is not the magnificent St. Peter’s Basilica; it is rather the blood shed at that spot, a decomposed material, which applied to the soil of faith to yield prodigious increase.

Paul, unlike Peter, was not called as one of the twelve apostles, but was chosen as a vessel of Christ, to become an apostle and teacher of the nations. Passionate about his Jewish faith and in rage and fury against believers in Christ, he sought to destroy them. He would learn that any enterprise to destroy the followers of Christ means literally to destroy Christ Himself. How good a bet can one have on that? Paul’s conversion was an epic tale: for while some may give up their wrong ways after they learn the truth, Paul, on the other hand, doubled the zeal, becoming the greatest champion of what he formerly repudiated—gaining the reputation as a contrarian of his former stance. A simple glance at the new testament scripture proves this. Contributing 14 epistles where he made manifest the abundant revelation he received and the loftiness of his own thoughts, he expounded the doctrines of the faith, blew a spiritual trumpet that still reverberates in many hearts redeemed by the love of Christ. Like Peter, he was martyred in Rome with blood streaming as from the temple to water the seeds of faith.

Peter and Paul are together celebrated as cornerstones of the Church, the patrons of Rome, and the key figures of our faith. Together, they give witness to a love so deep that no opposition—not even death—can quench or destroy.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ , Year C, June 22, 2025

Sat, 21 Jun 2025 17:31:45 GMT

It was shocking when a few years ago, I told my RCIA (now OCIA) class, during our discussion on the Eucharist, that we are a cultic people. I could see their eyes double in size, and read the movement of their tight lips —“We belong to a cult?” In an age that does not accept sacrifice, we only consider cult to refer to religious or social groups with deviant beliefs and practices, like the KKK, Jim Jones’ Peoples’ Temple , David Koresh’s Branch Davidians , Shoko Asahara’s Aum Shinrikyo , and so forth. Though it may shock you to hear it, today’s feast of Corpus Christi celebrates our belonging to the “cult of Christ.” Cult is not a bad word. It means worship — from the Latin “cultus”— from which we derive the words culture, cultivate, care. I hope that quells our anxiety. Yes, we are a cultic people, a priestly people, a cultured and caring people, and a worshipping community. Do you feel better?

The Solemnity of Corpus Christi (The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ), actually celebrated Thursday after Trinity Sunday (or 50 days after Maundy Thursday), but transferred to this Sunday, is the feast of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist: the feast of Communion, and the feast of the Church as the Body of Christ. It is the Holy Eucharist which unites and nourishes the whole Church, and the source and summit of our life as believers in Christ —according to Vatican II. In it the community of believers presents its Thanksgiving (Greek: eucharistia ), receiving God’s blessing through the intermediary of the priest, who, like Melchizedek of old, offers bread and wine to the Most High God. The theme of eucharistia or thanksgiving is echoed in today’s second reading in which St. Paul recounts the institution of the Eucharist by Jesus on Holy Thursday, and the command to “Do this in remembrance of me” (I Cor 11:25).

The Eucharist we receive at Mass is our sharing in the body of Christ, made possible through the sacrifice of His Life, and His redeeming death and resurrection. That was why I implored the ‘lily-Catholics’ to return every Sunday because Easter doesn’t end. Hence, St. Paul says: “As often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until He comes” (I Cor 11:26). In the Eucharist we experience Jesus’ presence in a unique way; what the early Church Fathers call the “Parousia,” meaning “presence, arrival, coming, or advent.” Many non-Catholics use the Greek word Parousia to denote only the second coming of Christ at the end of time, distinct from His daily coming in the Eucharist. But for the Church Fathers and in the earliest liturgies, “Eucharist” and “parousia” are one and the same thing. One of the Church Fathers wrote: “The Eucharistic liturgy was not a compensation for the postponement of the Parousia, but a way of celebrating the presence of the One who has promised to return.” This implies that whenever we celebrate Mass, Jesus walks into this Church. He, indeed, is the one who celebrates the Mass in the priest; and His presence is retained substantially in the host; and efficaciously in the gathering of His people, and the communion they share.

There should be no confusing how Jesus is present in the Bread. Catholics profess that He is permanently and really present in the host consecrated by the priest in that act called transubstantiation . Most Protestants offer a minimalist idea of Jesus’ presence as something figurative or merely symbolic. Lutherans, in particular, prefer a middle way— consubtantiation —in which the presence is real but temporary. Others see the presence only in the Bread, and still others only in the community of believers. It is not we who make Christ present through our gathering (as if we can by our choosing deny Him presence); rather, Christ Himself is the One who makes our gathering and communion a holy assembly, with Him as the Head and we as members of His Body—the Church.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Most Holy Trinity, Year C, June 15, 2025

Sat, 14 Jun 2025 00:04:21 GMT

A fellow passenger seated next to me on a train ride from Frankfurt to Vienna engaged me in a somewhat heated debate. He was a British tourist, and like me, he was visiting Vienna for a musical concert at the Mozart’s Hall. We first shared each others love for classical music. But when he learned that I was a priest, he was curious why of all professions in the world, I chose to be a priest. He told me that he was raised Anglican but had since learned that religion was just a myth concocted for controlling little minds. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that people still believe that there is a God who controls the affairs of men from his “little kingdom” in the sky. I reminded him that God’s abode is called heaven, not the sky.

Next, he challenged me with what he called the most elusive doctrine of the Christianity, namely—the Trinity. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he blipped, with an air of professorial arrogance. I told him that the mystery of the Trinity was not an illusion; rather what is astonishing is the lack of humility in some of us to admit that our knowledge of the divine is limited by the capability of our mind. I asked if he was capable of understanding calculus as an elementary school student. He admitted that he hated algebra and calculus, and struggled with them in secondary school; yet, he admitted that calculus is a valid mathematical form of knowledge—the same as algebra and trigonometry. I explained to him: That something is beyond us doesn’t suggest it is unknowable or invalid. What does exist is the arrogance which trivializes mystery or something not yet known but to which the mind retains the capacity to gravitate. Arrogant people would like to determine who God is or make God after their own image (as Israelites did so in the desert); they try to fit Him into their mental constructs.

To my fellow passenger, I explained the Trinity using some of the limited analogies drawn from human experience. I used the analogy of the sun. The sun is 80 million miles away from us, but it’s its rays that beautify the stained-glass windows in this church. The delightful heat we enjoy on our bodies come from a combination of the sun and its rays. The Trinity can be compared to the sun. God the Father is the blazing sun. God the Son is the rays that come down to us . Both the Father and the Son—like the sun and its rays—send us the Holy Spirit. Drawing from the analogy, the Holy Spirit is the heat that warms our bodies. If we’re smart to understand the workings of the sun, its rays, and heat, then we should be able to open our minds and hearts to the inner life of the Trinity. But don’t celebrate, yet, because every analogy falls abysmally short or below whom God is. Thus, Job asked: “Who can penetrate the deep designs of God?” (11:7).

Try to understand the mystery of the Trinity and you become like a person staring at the noonday sun to see it clearly. Be sure you’ll be getting a serious headache requiring extra strength Tylenol and a resolve to buy sun-glasses. You’ve probably heard about St. Augustine, preoccupied with the doctrine of the Trinity, seeking to grasp and explain it logically; and how a little child on the seashore making a tiny hole in the sand, ran to the sea with a little cup, filling it with water, ran to empty it in the hole she made. Back and forth she went, until Augustine drew near and asked what her project was, to which the girl replied, “I want to empty the sea into this hole.” Augustine advised that her project was a futile one. In turn, the girl replied, “But more futile was your goal to comprehend the immensity of God with your human mind. The trinity teaches us about love. Love is Trinity, because it takes, not two, but three to fall in love. And the third person is God. To fall in love is to fall into God.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Pentecost Sunday, Year C, June 8, 2025

Fri, 06 Jun 2025 23:12:27 GMT

One thousand nine hundred and ninety two (1992) years is the count. That’s how long it has been since the Catholic Church came to birth, and today is her birthday. Before that first Pentecost day, the Church had lived in the ‘ womb’ of the Spirit and had undergone varied stages in her development. These stages are represented by different images as: a covenant people, a pilgrim people, a troop of God, people of God or Israel, etc . In these nascent but real forms, God was gradually and consistently revealing Himself. For example, to Adam and Eve, He showed that He was a lover who revealed His image in us; with Noah, He showed Himself a peacemaker—renewing humanity that had gone astray; with Abraham, He surrounds His own with blessings in their sojourn; with Moses, He became the deliverer of His pilgrim people and the lover of law and order; with David, He was the great conqueror who brought many nations to Himself; and finally in Jesus, He shows Himself a great lover, giving His life for the beloved. Pentecost universalizes God’s love to make it reach all the peoples of the earth.

Jesus lived on earth for 33 years, died and rose after three days, ascended into heaven 40 days later, and ten days after His ascension, He sent the Holy Spirit to give birth to the Church, exactly fifty days after the new Passover. The Passover is the Jewish feast commemorating the deliverance of God’s people from slavery. Pentecost is an agricultural feast called Shavout celebrated fifty days after the Passover in the Jewish calendar, in which is commemorated the giving of the law in Mount Sinai, fifty days after the exodus. When we celebrate Pentecost today, we recall in a more universal sense the deliverance of the new people of God (which encompasses all children of God) from the chaos of sin and death—our own Egypt—through the passion, death and resurrection of Christ. We celebrate the fifty days after our new Passover (Easter), when the Holy Spirit was sent to give birth to the Church. That first Pentecost, which was originally a Jewish Harvest festival but recreated by God to renew the face of the earth in a new harvest of regeneration is what we celebrate today as the birthday of the Catholic Church.

I say that it is the Birthday of the Catholic Church with every intentionality. Pentecost is not for Pentecostals—anymore than baptism is for Baptists. Pentecost is specifically a Catholic feast. Recall that before Jesus ascended into heaven, He asked the disciples to remain in Jerusalem until they received the Promise of the Father. In obedience to the words of their Master but also out of fear of the Jews, they locked themselves up in the cenacle until today. As if some great fire was kindled in them, they rose up today, left the Upper Room and went out to speak openly about an issue that had had them in hiding. They were no longer afraid of being arrested. Some other power had arrested them. Their listeners that day were people from many and diverse races and tongues who had gathered for the festival and each of them heard the words of the apostles in their own native language. The first time language created a barrier between people was at Babel. Pentecost was an undoing of Babel, creating one universal language that all could hear. Universal is a translation of the Greek word “katolikos,” from which we got the word catholic. It was as catholic that the Gospel could be preached to the whole world.

St. Paul, writing to the Romans affirms this fact: “Your faith is proclaimed in all the world” (Rom 1:8). And to the Colossians, he wrote: “The Gospel which has come to you, as indeed in the whole world is bearing fruit and growing” (Col 1:5-6). The feast of Pentecost is a wakeup call to all of us to put teeth into our Confirmation commitment to renew the face of the earth. Happy Birthday!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Ascension of the Lord, Year C, June 1, 2025

Sat, 31 May 2025 15:03:31 GMT

Coaches always sound the warning to runners in relay races that it’s less important how fast a member of the relay team runs. Rather, the critical aspect of a relay race is the passing on of the baton from one runner to the other. More relay races are won or lost at that moment than at any other. We also find that such is life—an unbroken series of letting go of the baton as we move from one phase to the other. Parents pass on parental responsibilities to children. Some, though, unwilling to accept the fact of their children growing up are reluctant to hand over the baton for the understandable fear that Junior might screw things up. However, the reality is that it is often less about Junior screwing up than their coming to terms with the aging process and realizing that it’s time to start thinking of the afterlife. A similar situation occurs sometimes when a retiring senior manager would have to handover to someone else. Some look upon everyone else as incompetent and immature to handle the affairs and would moan and groan their relinquishing of power, often positioning themselves as clogs in the wheel of progress for their eventual successor. We should learn a lesson from Jesus.

Ascension is the feast of the passing of the baton from Jesus to His apostles . He knew that they weren’t yet masters in the game. A few weeks ago, they were sleeping on duty, running away from problems, and denying ever knowing whom He was. Yet, He went on to hand the baton of responsibility for God’s kingdom on earth to them. Their inexperience didn’t deter Him from commissioning them to complete the work He began. He, in fact, increased the scope of their job, commanding them to take the message to the ends of the earth and promising them His abiding presence.

Here is how Jesus differs from sit-tights who refuse to give up positions. As the Good Shepherd, He did not spare His life so to save us, and so, is glad to have accomplished the will of His father. How about the narcissistic rulers? They have depended on the sheep to oil their own lives and they become afraid that the sheep might have a breather and turn against them. Earthly glory meant nothing to Jesus as opposed to the narcissistic sit-tight managers and rulers who hang on to what they call their legacy and see any change as an attack on them. Jesus ascends into heaven so that He might release the Promise of the Father to aid the apostles in their future ministry. The narcissistic controllers retire to insecurity and from there sling mud at the endeavors of their successors. Jesus ascends on high; the insecure descend to low blows.

For all of us, the Ascension is a call to take up our mantle and become witnesses of Christ to the world. There are as many ways to do this as there are Christians. We can do what two 25-year-old university graduates did recently. After their graduation, one from Georgetown, and the other from Harvard, they entered the seminary to train for the priesthood. We can do what Albert Schweitzer did. At the age of 30 he abandoned a lucrative music career to study medicine, and became a missionary doctor in Gabon. We can do what the basketball coach of Spring Hill College Alabama , did a few years back. At the age of 45, he resigned his position and began studies for the priesthood. We can do what the saintly Mother Angelica did. In her 50’s she started the now famous Catholic television channel, EWTN. We can imagine what courage it took for these five individuals to do what they did. Yet, each person can carry out the commission of Jesus to be witnesses by becoming teachers in our homes, our workplaces and our schools. For mothers and fathers, it means lovingly, patiently and perseveringly devoting your lives to your children and instilling faith and value to them in a manner they’ll live to remember.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 6th Sunday of Easter, Year C, May 25, 2025

Sat, 24 May 2025 15:40:36 GMT

Compared to the Council of Jerusalem, the Second Vatican Council produced hundreds of pages of conciliar and post-conciliar documents. Whether the final document of a council is a line, a paragraph, or hundreds of pages, every Church council retains the same essential elements. First, a council is convoked to address a need or needs that affect the body of Christ, the Church. For example, the issue of circumcision, scripture, divinity of Christ, heretical teachings, modernity, etc., were all important issues for which councils were convoked. Second, a location of interest is chosen , for example, Jerusalem was the location of the first Church council; the first Ecumenical (worldwide) Council was held in Nicaea, while Vatican City was the location of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council . Other councils like Ephesus, Chalcedon, Constantinople, Lateran, etc., had those names of places as their location. Third, the council deliberates over arguments from theology, Scripture, and pastoral experience, with the Holy Spirit as its guide. Fourth, a solemn doctrinal definition is formed , which becomes binding and infallible. This comes out in writing as a document or act of the council approved by the pope.

The controversy that led to the convoking of the Council of Jerusalem was the circumcision, and whether converts from non-Jewish origins should submit to circumcision and the Mosaic Law. Long before the ex-priest, Martin Luther asked the question whether salvation was by works of the law or faith in Christ, the Church had settled the question, decreeing that we are saved by the grace of Christ’s redeeming death and resurrection. The greatest law for Christians then is obedience to Christ’s command to love one another as He loved us. Hence, He concluded, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (John 14:23). How God dwells among His people, especially in the Church will further be elucidated by Jesus as He send us the Holy Spirit—God’s gift to believers.

First, the Holy Spirit will become the teacher of the Church . Whenever the Church gathers, as was the case in the Council of Jerusalem , the Holy Spirit will be her teacher, reminding the Church of all that Christ taught explicitly and those that the disciples will have to draw from experience and deliberation. We find the words of the final document of the Council of Jerusalem very striking: “It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us...” (Acts 15:28). The disciples gathered in council express their confidence that the decision they reached was guided by the Holy Spirit, as Christ promised them in John 16:13. The apostles of Christ till today continue to appeal to this union of divine guidance and human discernment in every decision reached in the many councils that have been held and that will continue to be convoked.

Second, the Holy Spirit comes to live in the heart of each individual who keeps the word. Jesus’ promise that He and the Father will come to dwell with anyone who loves Him is fulfilled when the Holy Spirit takes possession of the life of the believer, who through baptism is adopted into God’s family and through confirmation is strengthened to bear witness to Christ. The Holy Spirit becomes for the believer a welcome guest, sweet refreshment, and the gift of God, pouring dew on our dryness, washing the stains of guilt away, bending that which was stubborn, melting the frozen, warming the chill, and guiding our steps that often go astray. This presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church and the believer is symbolically expressed in today’s second reading from the book of Revelation , which points to the New Jerusalem gleaming with the splendor of God. The splendor of God, the Lamb, and the light is revealed in the Church and in every faithful believer.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 5th Sunday of Easter, Year C, May 18, 2025

Sat, 17 May 2025 00:24:24 GMT

If you’re a grammarian, you’ll notice the ‘time clause’ introducing the Gospel reading of today —“When Judas had left….” Time clauses are used to express events that happened or will happen at a particular time. Hypothetically, the event wouldn’t happen at some other time. For example, “When I have free time, I will go fishing” implies that I wouldn’t consider going fishing unless I have free time. So it was important for Jesus that Judas was not present when He effectively changed the commandment to love, from “love your neighbor as yourself” to “love one another as I have loved you.” The absence of Judas means that this new commandment applies only to those willing to live an unselfish love.

That the Jews struggled with the term ‘neighbor’ and didn’t know who deserved love of neighbor is shown by the inquiry of the law expert, in Luke 10:29, “Who is my neighbor?” In the term ‘neighbor,’ love has limiting borders, but in ‘one another,’ the limiting borders collapse. Similarly, Jesus knew that the often imperial autonomous Self is too absorbed and inhibited by passion to become the ‘terminus a quo’ for a quality that is intrinsically divine. The fallen-self cannot be a true starting point for love. The old commandment to love your neighbor as yourself curtails love to the subjectivity of the subject. The new commandment frees love from the subject and affirms it as a divine quality and, in fact, a divine person. Hence, “Deus caritas est” (God is love - I John 4:8).

“I was never able to thank him personally, but we looked into each other’s eyes before he was led away” were the words of Francizek Gajowniczek, the political prisoner of Auschwitz whose life was saved by another prisoner, Maximilian Kolbe, in 1941. Exactly 41years later, quoting the Gospel of John 15:13, “Greater love has no man than this, to lay down his life for his friends,” their fellow countryman, St. John Paul, pronounced the latter a saint. St. Kolbe was a hero of the faith, but what he did was no more than is expected of any of us if we take Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel seriously and if all our proclamation of love for others would hold any water.

What is the test of true love? We can answer with the examples of our Lord and St. Kolbe. If our love for others does not stream from those two examples, we could be degrading the word “love.” And I mean that whenever we say we love someone, we are no least saying that we are prepared to lay down our life for that person. The joy of love (amoris laetitia) is in knowingly and willingly giving up self to affirm the other. It has so little to do with the glands. The Eros of love is a way the originator of love wants humanity to benefit from the sacrifice inherent in love. Where ‘Eros’ is sought after in negligence of the sacrifice inherent in love, you have the case of eating the icing on the cake while ignoring the cake. The result is seen in all the ills associated with contemporary lack of love: marital infidelity, divorce, pornography, prostitution, homosexual practices, and numerous selfish immoral acts.

Love’s contemporary idiom is one that either still leaves Judas in the room or joins Judas in his project to betray love. Leaving Judas in the room implies a comingling of love with insincerity, betrayal, avarice, greed, and insane love of money, which has become the number one destroyer of love. But even more destructive are the forces, some of which are inside the Church, engineered by the purveyors of social progress, which team with Judas in the project to betray love, marriage and the family, promoting such betrayals as divinely ordained. Here, we find a fresh machinery seeking a sell-out of the body of Christ as Judas did. Pope Francis’ Amoris Laetitia decried those forces that seek to replace love with social progress. Perhaps, Paul and Barnabas saw the effects of these forces when they exhorted the faithful of Lystra, Iconium and Antioch that we must “ undergo many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 4th Sunday of Easter, Year C, May 11, 2025

Sat, 10 May 2025 01:25:43 GMT

It was my mother’s birthday. I was in Rome and thinking how I would mark her birthday. As I listened to the BBC that morning, I heard of a new catacomb opened in Rome called the “Catacombs of Priscilla.” The newscaster had a number of women who were arguing for women’s ordination and pointing at a fresco on the ceiling in one of the vaults of the catacomb that showed what appeared like a woman wearing priestly robes. She had her two hands extended as if she was celebrating Mass. “There you have it,” said one of the women with a British accent; “There were women priests in the early Church,” she concluded. Because my mother’s name is Priscilla, and since I was trying to do something on her birthday, I pulled the map to find how to get there. I was glad that I made it to the Catacombs of St. Priscilla , located north of Rome. The descriptive expression (in Italian) about the fresco in question says that it was a rendering of an ancient Roman funeral banquet (not Mass). But it wasn’t the painting of the woman apparently ‘celebrating Mass’ that caught my eyes. There was also a fresco of mother and child that may have been the earliest of the Infant Jesus and Mary. The fresco that most stood out was that of Jesus as the Good Shepherd standing in front of a garden. He was carrying a lamb on His shoulder and motioning to two sheep to enter (or He could be feeding them), while on top of two small trees on either side of the garden’s entrance were two crowing roosters.

A number of Christian symbolisms are depicted in this fresco. The two trees symbolize the garden of paradise from which our first parents were banished. Christ’s resurrection opened again the doors of paradise shut against Adam and Eve; and in place of the expelling cherubs posted in front of the garden to prevent man from reentering (Gen 3:24a), Christ stands as the gatekeeper, lovingly inviting back the lost sheep, Adam and Eve (and redeemed humanity) to the sheepfold. Again, in place of the flame of flashing sword (Gen: 24b), the cross stands as the tree of the new life of resurrection. In the same fresco, Christ even carries a wounded lamb on His shoulder to show His care for us when we’re wounded by sin. The rooster is a sacred symbol, which in the Jewish tradition is emblematic of gallantry and honesty; but more so, temple officers were called “Rooster” as one of their titles, to show their roles as the ones who welcomed people into the temple or expelled them. Christ, too, is the “Rooster” or, as he calls Himself today, the gatekeeper of the heavenly temple who calls His sheep to heaven. In other ancient traditions, the rooster symbolizes the victory of light over darkness. The Celts saw the Rooster as a messenger to the underworld, calling forth the souls of the brave who died in battle. For the Igbo's, the crowing of the rooster each morning wakes humanity from sleep—a resurrection motif of calling humanity back from the death of sin to a new life. And among the Native Americans, the rooster is a symbol of the resurrection.

We can see that the Shepherd theme pervades every aspect of our religion. One of the most favorite and prayed psalms in the Bible is Psalm 23, with the Shepherd theme. We learned to recite it by heart as kids for our Morning Prayer. Christ, the Good Shepherd provides us through the Church shepherds (pastors) who lead us to the fresh waters (Baptism) to refresh our souls. They guide us in the right path of sound doctrine for His name’s sake; so that, even if we walk in the dark valley of false teachings, we’ll not fear; for their prayers and guidance give us courage. They feed us with rich food (the Eucharist) for our journey and anoint us with salvation (Reconciliation) for years to come.

Can we sincerely tell Him today that with Him as our shepherd, we shall want for nothing? Not even a walk through the darkness of error can make us fear any evil, because we know that we’ll find repose in His verdant truth.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday of Easter, Year C, May 4, 2025

Fri, 02 May 2025 14:22:41 GMT

Often, we feel we have mastered the universe and how it works based on our ability to plumb a minuscule area of our natural habitat. Feeling that they have found the universal equation explaining everything, some in modern society who take naturalism and rational thought as their creed go to the extent of reducing any recourse to faith and God as a retreat into infantilism. Today’s Gospel, among other things, shows us that creation has a Master who has permitted us to form some tie of reciprocal dependency with created matter, yet maintaining ultimate control of its vast arrays. And so, these professional fishermen (seven of them) thought that getting back to the waters meant revising an old dance to which they had given a large portion of their years before they met the itinerant Rabbi, Jesus. For the past three years, they had followed Him, and now He had left them— “for good;” they thought about how to bring some closure to their relationship with Him. Peter was the one to suggest: “I am going fishing,” and the other six professionals in the fishing industry responded in unison, “We also will come with you.” Disappointingly, they fished all night and caught nothing. Why they were called out of the waters to take up their new vocation as “fishers of men” had not become clear to them.

Then comes Jesus! He calls them “children,” and so they are. Then, the one who is the amateur directs the professionals to cast the net on the right side; because, they still don’t get it: there is always a right way to do anything and someone knows better than you—the so-called professional . Sometimes, those who tout themselves as experts keep awake in the dark searching for vermin, afraid of nobler gains. Jesus shows the apostles and us that there is one who is Master of the universe and has total control over all areas of life, including something as minute as the direction in which the fish goes or could be found. They follow the directive and become amazed.

Once again, Jesus would call these men out of the waters to apply their skill to become true fishermen (fishers-of-men). Similarly, He calls the neophytes and us out of the water of baptism to prepare a table (the Eucharist) for us. The miraculous catch of fish becomes a sign of new things to come. Many will be caught into the net (the Church) from the waters of baptism. That net—the Church—will be kept so strong and so big that no amount catch will be able to tear it. Fish will become a new symbol of their relationship with the Master. They are to become the fish (ichtus) made complete by their relationship with Christ ( christus ). When the persecutions set in, ichtus (fish) will become a symbol of Christianity and of christus (Christ), as depicted till today in Christian art. Even the fishing boat becomes a symbol of the Church sailing through the wild ocean of sin and death, often tossed about by the waves, but kept secure by the power of the Risen Christ who promised to be with her till the end of the age.

Having been called out of the water a second time, the disciples must decide between the Church and the fishing boat. Peter, again, representing humanity and the Church would make a triple profession of faith. This has been interpreted by some scholars as affirmation of love to counter his triple denial. Yet, a further interpretation leads us to see from the triple command of Jesus: “Feed me lambs,” “Tend my sheep,” and “Feed my sheep,” a specific Eucharistic element, emphasizing its central place (source and summit) in the life of the Church. And by Jesus’ curious prediction of Peter’s martyrdom, He shows that the Eucharist will become the food that will give martyrs the strength to remain steadfast. As animated by this forceful élan (the Eucharist), both Peter and all disciples will be driven towards service to one another and submission to their Lord. The Eucharist becomes a place of encounter, where they recognize Him.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 2nd Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy Sunday), Year C, April 27, 2025

Sat, 26 Apr 2025 00:08:54 GMT

Today, we mark the Octave of Easter. The word ‘octave’ is a Latin expression for eight days . We mean by octave that the eight days from Easter Sunday to this Sunday form liturgically speaking a single day—which is also called ‘the day of the new creation.’ (It should also be noted that St. Athanasius went further than that, calling the entire fifty days of Easter—from Easter Sunday to Pentecost, a “ Great Sunday ”). In the Latin rite, only Easter and Christmas have octaves, that is, they are celebrated for eight consecutive days. The appearance of Thomas also suggests the name: St. Thomas’ Sunday —for today the risen Lord returned to support him, and in the process, confirmed his faith. A further name given to this Sunday is Quasimodo Sunday, drawing from the Entrance antiphon: “Quasimodo geniti infantes...” (As newborn babes, you must long for the pure, spiritual milk without guile…). But since the start of this millennium, a permanent name, Divine Mercy Sunday, has been assigned to this Sunday by Decree of the Congregation for Divine Worship. It would become one of the legacies of the great Pope John Paul II.

We have to go as far back as St. Augustine to learn why this Sunday is called Divine Mercy Sunday. St. Augustine called the days following Easter up to this Sunday, “Days of Mercy.” A thorough reading of St. Augustine suggests that the Risen Lord had chosen this Sunday to make complete peace with His apostles, and through them, to the entire human race. How did He do this?

If you are one of those who just arrived on Easter Sunday and didn’t go through the Triduum—Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday , you missed a great story. On Holy Thursday night, after eating supper with His closest friends, Jesus was arrested. All but one of His apostles abandoned Him and ran away. Pope Peter who followed at a distance denied three times ever knowing Him. The resurrection wasn’t completely a joyful news to them. With the news of His resurrection all over the city, they felt painfully ashamed of their cowardice and wondered how they would face their ‘disappointed and perhaps angry’ Master. That would be the explanation for their initial reaction to the news of His resurrection: they ran to the spot where they were told He wasn’t—to the tomb instead of Galilee where He had gone to meet them. Then, they locked themselves up in a room, the cenacle, afraid of the Jews but also of their Master; and like children who had broken the window, awaiting their dad’s questioning and punishment, they were pondering what He might tell them. Then, Divine Mercy appeared with the greeting “Peace be with you.” They got that feeling we get on stepping out of the confessional after a difficult confession—“complete peace.” He had forgiven them; no mention of their unfaithfulness, no chastisement. From then on, the ministry and sacrament of Reconciliation has begun. They are to offer God’s forgiveness to sinners in like manner: no interrogation, no admonitions, no chastisement.

Divine Mercy is not human or societal pardon that subjugates the offender, registers him for life, and fixes ankle monitors on him. Divine Mercy is total. Hence, on the occasion of the canonization of Sr. Faustina Kowalski (who received messages from the Lord about His infinite mercy) on April 30, 2000, St. John Paul II declared that throughout the Church, the Mercy of God should be celebrated/marked on this day—thus changing the name of the Second Sunday of Easter to Divine Mercy Sunday. According to the Holy Father, it was the risen Christ, who bears the great message of Divine Mercy and entrusts its ministry to the apostles in the Upper Room, saying: “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained” (Jn 20:21-23). God makes peace with humanity and justifies us through His Son’s redeeming death.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Easter Sunday, Year C, April 20, 2025

Sat, 19 Apr 2025 14:16:17 GMT

To all God’s faithful children who have, especially, journeyed with the Lord through the Lenten (spring) days of preparation for the celebration of the Pascha, I bring this Resurrection Greeting— Happy Easter to you all! Today we arrive at the culmination of our Lenten journey and we rejoice at the fulfillment of the paschal mystery of the Lord’s passion, death and resurrection.

The words of the Psalmist reverberates: “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!” These words echo the events of today because today the Church marks the greatest event in heaven and earth. This is the feast of feasts, the solemnity of solemnities. It is most correct to simply say that TODAY IS THE FEAST . Every celebration of the Church, every feast, every action of the Church, all our sacraments, our Christian life, the priesthood, this church building, our magnificent altar, the sacred vessels, your faith which drew you to this place, the preaching of the gospel to all the world—all these are made possible and have meaning because of today’s feast—the Resurrection of the Lord.

I once asked children in RE class to tell me the greatest feast celebrated in the Church. Everyone can guess the answer—Christmas. I believe that several adult Catholics think the same, or at least, they act as if Christmas is the greatest of all Church festivals. But is Christmas our greatest feast? Not really! Christmas would make no sense if the event of today did not take place. If Christ did not rise from the dead, perhaps his birthday would be celebrated as ours—by friends and close relatives only. The resurrection is the event to which the mystery of the incarnation points. The incarnation is understood through the paschal mystery. The liturgical calendar with all feasts and actions of the Church revolves around Easter, and points toward it. St. Paul says, “If Christ did not rise from the dead, our faith is vain, our preaching is vain” (I Corinthians 15:14). I make the bold claim that Western civilization in the present form with the giant developments in arts, science and technology owes much to the freedom brought to us through Jesus’ resurrection. Easter is our feast; we have been redeemed, humanity is reconciled with God, the gate of paradise closed after the fall is now wide open to receive believers, our access to the Father is reestablished.

Humanity has from antiquity grappled with the question: “What happens to us after we die?” Concerted effort has been made by philosophers, scientists and experts in various fields to answer this question. All have met a blank wall. But Jesus has given us an answer that is not only appealing, but also assuring and consoling—there is life beyond the grave. The grave is not a home for believers. The empty tomb which the disciples saw today tells the whole story. Death is not a disintegration of life. In fact, death has become rather a pathway to the fullness of life. That is why, while the world celebrates birthdays when people are born in the flesh, the Church celebrates it when souls are born in spirit. Death to those who are saved is infancy again. In the liturgy, we call it “natalitia,” the Latin word for birthday .

That the resurrection is an extraordinary event—like no other—is proven by the impact it has had on the entire humanity, which is felt by both believers and unbelievers alike. Here are three reasons that Jesus is the only one worth following: 1, He was prophesied in scripture—everything said about him came true; 2, His coming split time in two (BC and AD); 3, He is the only one who came into this world primarily to die. Everyone else comes to lives and to fulfil some plan in living. Hence, we speak of death as something inevitable, for, if we could, we’ll choose to live on. During this paschal season, we should renew our faith in Jesus and live the new life that offers the possibility of truly living on.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Year C, April 13, 2025

Fri, 11 Apr 2025 12:25:25 GMT

If you care about real and true news, I’ll give you one; and the news is: “This is the most important week in your life.” Is that news enough? Then brace up for what it brings. As it was during the week of the Passover 2000 years ago, I predict that, as usual, the world aided by their media will steer some controversy to distract mindless Christians from Holy Week. Why do we carry palms today? The answer to the question expresses the reason for this season, and this Holy Week. First, we carry palms to symbolize our victory, which Christ won for us by His Passion, Death and Resurrection. Second, the palms also symbolize the true identity of the Lord, acclaimed with the words: “ Hosanna (save us)” and “Son of David,” also “He who comes in the Name of the Lord,” the “King of Israel;” words that were troubling for the authorities, both Roman and Jewish. Yet, Pilate would later affix the sign (INRI) acknowledging Christ’s kingship, albeit mockingly.

When you listen to the Passion—that sacred narrative, you must notice the various characters around the cross: people who played varied roles—good, bad, very bad, ugly. Luke’s characters reveal to us that no one can be neutral before Jesus. And you cannot be neutral, either. You’ll find yourself at each point in your journey with Christ taking up any of those roles; roles that will define us before God’s judgment seat. Let’s take a look at just 14 characters:

1. Peter —A fragile rock, following at a distance. Impetuous, yet, with gaze fixed on Jesus, representative of both sinful and redeemed humanity.

2. Judas —A betrayer, a lover of money. All betrayals of divinity require insincere marks of affection, like a kiss. While a faithful friend is a life-saving remedy; a greedy, dishonest friend will be your worst betrayer.

3. High Priest —Felt his authority threatened and plays tricks to eliminate a perceived threat. Are you playing tricks with someone’s life or fortune?

4. The Sanhedrin —Twisting the law and evidence to get desired conviction.

5. Pilate —Politician, talked from both sides of his mouth. Knew the truth and what was just but preferred unjust sentence. Are you afraid to tell the truth (to our children and friends) lest you lose your self-importance?

6. Herod —Had a bloody alliance with Pilate on the principle that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The gains of revenge are always short-lived.

7. Barabbas —Preferred to a just one. The hand of Barabbas is plastered all over the world as we install evil men and women with no morals as celebrities, while implicating the just with every imaginable accusation.

8. The crowd —Sheeple, unthinking, reactional, easily swayed, victims of groupthink. Often the crowd doesn't know what’s happening and doesn’t know that it doesn’t know. Sapere Aude! (Dare to think), in the true sense.

9. Simon of Cyrene —A disgruntled helper won over by the serenity of the Man of Suffering. We cannot look the other way when our sister suffers.

10. Women of Jerusalem —Stood firm when the men wavered. Tradition has it that He gave to one of them, Veronica, the imprint of His holy countenance.

11. Two criminals —Jeered at him, but one proved he was a master thief and stole even paradise. Heaven’s gate is never closed to the seeker.

12. Soldiers —Zombies as always, especially when armed and charged up.

13. Centurion —Saw the Truth and glorified God amidst the gloom of deviltry.

14. Joseph of Arimathea —At once bold and fearful. Afraid? You keep faith!

Each of us is invited to place ourselves around the Cross of Christ as an intentional actor in that eternal drama. Where do you belong? Do the search this Holy Week. But never leap unto Easter without experiencing the Triduum.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C, April 6, 2025

Fri, 04 Apr 2025 23:04:40 GMT

They call it the story of the “Stone Never Thrown,” demonstrating God’s compassion, repudiation of the judgment of the world, the last statement in rejection of the thirst for blood in death penalty, and call to abandonment of sin. The charade orchestrated by Jesus’ enemies appeared as an inescapable bait, set deviously to trap Him. These master traitors, comprising of a gang of scribes and Pharisees—enforcers of ancient religious orthodoxy—believed that they had Him nailed. Little did they know that they had up against them the Wisdom and Justice of God, and were about to get a lesson on super-duper judicial power.

Clearly, the accusers of the woman had no interest in whatever becomes her fate. In the cultural, religious, and judicial environment where they ruled, her life had only a tiny value. The woman was, for them, the “weaker sex” to be used and exploited freely, with laws sealing her degradation and inhumanity. Neither were they interested in rooting out sin—any sin; for the sin of adultery necessarily takes two to commit. They were simply motivated by their hatred of Jesus and also to make a jest of His message of compassion for the downtrodden—for, to them, Jesus had only one option, which was to condemn the woman. Should He exonerate the woman, He’ll be clearly and openly going against the law and would face dire consequences.

How does Jesus respond? He sees behind their trap and their thirst for blood, the smoke of injustice. Then, He writes on the ground: the first and only time scripture has Him write anything. What did He write? We’re not told. But we can arrive at it by deductive reasoning. First, we are told He wrote on the dust, not on stone. Why? To be blown away by the wind, for “Love keeps no record of iniquity” (I Cor 13:5). Second, He challenges anyone among them who is without sin to be the first to throw a stone. We find in this episode, God, to whom nothing is hidden writing their sins on the ground, unsealing the secret door of their conscience. Fulton Sheen said that Jesus wrote their names, beginning with the eldest, and, against each name, the number of adulteries, with whom, where, and on what occasion. Hence, thirdly, they went away, one by one, in that order—beginning with the elders. Clear enough, adultery, fornication are sins not easily forgotten. You might forget what you had for dinner last night, or with whom, but people scarcely forget with whom and where they committed their last adulterous act or related sin.

So, who am I or you to judge anyone? How easy it is for us to criticize, judge and condemn others; and how embarrassing when our own sins are exposed. We look for compassion when our wrongdoings are exposed. Where is our compassion and mercy for others? In a similar vein, we fail to see the lopsidedness of our judgment and some of the laws on which we base many of our biases. Do we realize that often human laws are framed to target some and exonerate others? Two people committed adultery today, one is exonerated and another condemned to capital punishment. Two people enter the US without papers, one from Cuba, another from Guatemala. The Cuban is without question installed a permanent resident, the Guatemalan is tagged an illegal immigrant. Yet, justice is supposed to be blind and there is equality under the law. We file away the injustice and turn a blind eye to its effects once we are not affected. Jesus has the same compassion for all: sinner, man, woman, poor, rich, native-born, foreigner. To the sinner, He says: “Neither do I condemn you,” but warns, “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.” It’s a call to total conversion, not a license to continue in sin. Those who promote liberal orthodoxy of sin on, no shame, all opinions are equal, no one is allowed to think, religious convictions are private, should hear Jesus’ words loud and clear.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday in Lent, "Laetare Sunday", Year C, March 30, 2025

Sun, 30 Mar 2025 17:34:53 GMT

Suppose you have two $50 bills, one rumpled and dirty and the other crisp. Which of them has a higher value when you go to deposit them? I guess you know the answer. The difference between a bad person who returns to God and a good person in the sight of God is the kind of welcome they’ll receive—and the answer will surprise. In Luke 15:7, Jesus spells it out: “I tell you that there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” Which is better: To sin and repent or remain righteous and miss the party? I’ll skip that question and go ahead to suggest what is best, and that is: To remain righteous and join the party for the repentant sinner. When we’re ready to tell ourselves the truth, we’ll come to the realization that as Henry Nouwen says: “We are all handicapped; some more visibly than others;” and St. Paul more precisely stated: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Yet, God loves us immensely. If God had a refrigerator, your magnet picture would be on it. If He carries a wallet, chances are your photo would be inside it. He loves you beyond words, and Jesus’ parable today proves that.

Today’s Gospel found in the 15th chapter of Luke is called “ the Gospel in the Gospel.” It contained the distilled essence of the Good News and sums up Luke’s Gospel, and all gospels, as some scholars suggest. Luke’s entire Gospel ended in this 15th chapter, which forms what scholars call the penultimate recapitulation. Everything that followed was commentary and story about how it all came about. And the story is that God doesn’t mind how filthy you are in so far as you’re willing to take the next exit and steer your way back home.

Jesus illustrates this by telling this story to which, in my opinion, we gave the wrong title: “The Parable of the Prodigal Son.” For, if prodigal means to be wasteful, extravagant, lavish and profuse, I would think that the father outdid that son of his in prodigality. He was extravagant, profuse and exceedingly wasteful in showing mercy to an unworthy son. Jesus makes that same point in this parable: that though our sins have caused us to stray from our Father’s house, His loving heart always follows us gently, whispering in our hearts: “Come home! Come home, my daughter, ...my son! It takes time for someone in a horrible state of sin and dissipation to realize his or her shameful state. A drunkard must need the last booze that would land him in the gutter; a prostitute, an adulterer, a fornicator fails to realize that she is merely feeding pigs. Reckless lifestyle drains one’s fortune and reduces people to slavery and misery. God tells Joshua and all Israel as they arrived the Promised Land: “Today, I have taken the shame of Egypt away from you” (Joshua 5:9). The shame of Egypt is the yoke of slavery: slavery to drugs and alcohol, to sex and pornography, to lies and gossips, to anger and resentment, and to self-pity and depression. God calls us to shake off the shame of Egypt today and return home.

Our wild, fun-loving, sinful young star of today’s Gospel has one thing going for him. He is not too proud to go back and say, “I have erred, I am sorry.” The older brother, who represents most of us, in his intolerance, self-righteousness and anger wants to teach God—who is Justice Himself—the meaning of justice, and distances himself from the family celebration.

After teaching her RE class about the Parable of the Prodigal Son, a smart teacher asked the kids: “Now, tell me, who suffered the most in the story?” A tiny hand went up: “the fattened cow, I guess.” Absolutely! And next to the fattened cow comes the older son who shut himself out. He didn’t even taste the fattened cow he helped raise, all because he stuck to his warped ideas of fairness and justice. Don’t let yourself be shut out of heaven because God in His “reckless” mercy let in your enemy. God’s ways are not our ways.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday in Lent, Year C, March 23, 2025

Thu, 20 Mar 2025 15:47:13 GMT

I’m not too familiar with baseball; but years ago when I tried to learn the rudiments of baseball and how to swing the bat, I gathered from my little friend who tried to teach me that, three swings and three misses means you’re on your way to the dugout. I didn’t understand then what it meant. While I’m unfamiliar with baseball, I know about class quizzes because some years ago, I was a classroom teacher. One reference gets you repeating the quiz; a second reference gets you repeating the class, and a third failure finds you out of the school. How many references should God allow before He comes with His judgment? How many more Lents do we need to reform our lives? How much longer must God wait before He sends His angels to root out evil and the wicked in our world?

The plea of the gardener in today’s Gospel is: “Give the tree one more year.” He thinks the tree needs extra care. The parable concluded with the plea and we’re unaware what happened at the end of that year. Suppose the tree fails to bear fruit after one year despite the care given by the gardener. How would the conversation between the Master and the gardener go? Do you think the gardener would surrender, saying: “Well, our contract is for one year! We’ll stick to the terms; let’s go ahead and cut down the tree?” I wouldn’t think this wise, bold, and keen gardener would give up that easily on that tree. Like Abraham pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah or like Moses pleading for the Israelites, the gardener would beg for two more years, five more years, and even twenty. The tree may bear fruit after all the petitions and extra care, and then keep its life, or it may remain like Sodom, and share its lot.

Let us put it in the right perspective, or rather, in our own perspective. Let God be the Master, and we, the tree. We fail too often to produce the fruit God desires from us—fruits of love, godliness, forgiveness, etc. We find ourselves all too often full of leaves, full of flesh, full of ourselves; and lacking in understanding, compassion, and forgiveness. We merely take up the ground and wallow in emptiness and wickedness while the Master keeps coming to look for faithfulness, perseverance, and generosity. And He is asking today: “Why must we be taking up the ground?” But for His Son, the Gardener, He would have cut us down long ago. He tells His Father, to whom He adopted us: “Let us give them time, more time to be the people He ordained that we should be.” Clearly, He refuses to give up on us; He is not yet done with us. He gives us chance after chance after chance—then, a last chance. Regrettably, some are already using up their last chance.

Why give us so many chances? Because God is kind and merciful , as we sang in today’s Responsorial Psalm. Pope Francis, while inaugurating the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy years ago, said that God’s name is Mercy . Forgiveness is an integral part of His nature, and knowing our proneness to failure, He constantly ministers forgiveness to us; not three time, not four, but seventy times seven. Yet, while His mercy may extend to eternity, we are limited by time and may be using up the time left for us to accept it. Because He is the “I AM,” His interest is what we are at the present; how we are availing ourselves of the graciousness of His mercy, “right now.” Notice that He didn’t say, “I was” or “I will be.” God is not interested in our past misdeeds (or even good deeds) and our unfulfilled confessional promises to amend our lives in the future. He wants us to start NOW to love, to be kind and generous, to be faithful and persevere in faithfulness.

Should we continue to postpone repentance and reformation, we ought to hear the words of Jesus saying: “But I tell you, if you don’t repent you will all perish as they did!” Sobering words!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday in Lent, Year C, March 16, 2025

Sat, 15 Mar 2025 14:40:48 GMT

Our Lenten journey takes us from the temptation desert of last Sunday to today’s mountain of Transfiguration. Our leader in this journey is no other than the Son of God who wants to be sure that before He leaves us to return to the Father, we must have experienced with Him the two opposing spiritual forces and worlds—the spiritual field of darkness where the devil dictates and ravages soul and body; and the spiritual world of light where we tune to His frequency in order to hear the voice of the Father. He entered the desert alone because He has the ultimate power to defeat the cunning of the devil. He goes to the mountain with three of His disciples, who, at the time, were incompetent to face the devil, but received the privilege to behold His Glorious Face, with the assurance that, standing with Him alone, they can confront evil. That desert can be likened to this world ruled by the spirit of the devil, always charming and alluring but utterly destructive. The mountain is the spiritual terrain where God manifests Himself in glory and speaks in a clear voice, urging us to listen to Christ, His beloved Son. We are to choose the voice to which we must listen: the voice that promises to fill outer bellies while leaving inner nakedness, the voice urging us to bow to evil as we run in pursuit of earthly glory, reject reality to pursue illusion; or the voice of the Son of God, conqueror of evil, sin and death, giver of true freedom and peace.

The transfiguration—one of the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary— invites us to another phase of Lent, where we turn our gaze on Christ rather than ourselves and the attractions which becloud the spirit, bury us in the subjectivity of the self, and impede the blossoming of grace in us. So unique is this event in the life of the early Church that it became one of the pervading themes in the spiritual practices of the oriental Christian Churches. We need a vision more than what our Western eyes and senses with their pervasive materialistic leanings can provide in order to glimpse the deeper truths of transcendent reality.

When they saw Moses and Elijah, the privileged apostles, Peter, James and John, were connected to the totality of salvation history—the law that establishes us as a covenant people, and the prophesy that makes us witnesses to the God of the covenant. Jesus’ conversation with Moses and Elijah reveals the centrality of the three and why Jesus is the fulfilment of all laws and prophesies. It implies that we have been given assurance about Christ’s Redeeming work and are to repose total confidence in Him. In this sense, the virtue of hope is rekindled as we now know that heaven isn’t just a fairytale.

We see the apostles—Peter, James and John—caught up in the luminosity of heavenly glory. Immediately, they want to stay and even propose to build houses for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. It doesn’t bother them with what equipment they would build houses on the mountain. Heaven is the land of possibilities; that is why without hammer, wood and digger, they thought they could erect a tent on the mountain. No fourth or fifth tent is necessary for themselves because they are already covered by the glory God (as a house). They echo the sentiments of the Psalmist who said: “One day within your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere” (Psalm 84:10). But it wasn’t heaven they saw, rather a vision of the likeness of the glory of heaven. What heaven is in reality, St. Paul tells us, “eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it entered the heart of anyone, what things God has prepared for those who love him” (I Cor. 2:9). Having been prepared to face the Scandal of the Cross , the apostles learn that death is not an annihilation, rather the portal through which we must pass to glory. Even now our flesh must be transformed this Lent through penance until its innermost recesses are suffused with the life of the Spirit (G. Motte). Strengthened by this luminous glory, may we proceed without fear on our Lenten journey.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday in Lent, Year C, March 9, 2025

Sat, 08 Mar 2025 19:35:30 GMT

Someone approached me on Ash Wednesday to inquire what he could give up for Lent. Before I could say a word, he started dishing out a laundry list of behaviors he thought could be on his list: Pornography, smoking, lying, speeding, messing around with women, and hatred of Hispanics. Perhaps you’re one of those thinking of what to give up or maybe you have made your own list. The problem with that list is: What happens when the forty days of Lent are over? I told him that his list contains good material for confession; but that he ought to find a better one for Lent.

To know exactly the kind of behaviors to give up for Lent, the Church offers us a clue through Luke’s presentation of the temptation of Jesus. But the first clue doesn’t pertain to what is given up; rather, what is taken up. The evangelist ushers us to Lent with the words; “Filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit through the wilderness, being tempted there by the devil for forty days” (Luke 4:1). The most important ingredient for a good Lent is being filled with the Holy Spirit. Without the action of the Holy Spirit, our fast will become self-absorbing and self-indulging. The forty days’ journey through the desert of Lent will become at best an exercise in self-adulation about how my inquiring friend was able to go forty days without viewing porn or speeding or hating other people. He would be craving for Easter to come so he might return to the bad habits he had given up for Lent. Bad idea.

However, if we recognize that the Holy Spirit is responsible for this season, we will become open to Him as He reveals to us our inconstancies, our frailties and our inability to win the battle with the enemy on our own. Then at the end of our fast, we, like Jesus will be able to see that our challenge is not hunger but greed . The plea to become a baker rather than a Savior was a ploy to distract Jesus from His Redemptive purpose. For us, it is a plea to satisfy the pallets while leaving inner nakedness. Secondly, we will realize, like Jesus, that it is avarice, not the possession of material goods which is evil . Avarice means bowing to mammon as we seek to possess material goods — “All these I will give to you if you bow down and worship me” (Luke 4:7). We bow to mammon when we cheat, lie, use others and twist things in order to get rich. For example, a young girl tormented by guilt told how her mom who wanted sole control of her husband’s wealth coached her to testify in court that her dad molested her. She got rich by bowing to the devil while her husband languished in prison. Thirdly, we will learn that it is vanity, not success which enchants the human heart to prevaricate and take devil-may-care risks . All the praises we accord ourselves, the pride of life, the “show off,” the vainglory that comes before our downfall is the devil leading us to the parapet of the temple and convincing us to fall to our ruin. There you find the roots of hatred, violence, lust, and intemperance.

As was the case with Jesus, God does not prevent temptations from coming to us. St. John Chrysostom outlines why God allows us to be tempted. First, to teach us that we need to be on our guard. Second, that we may remain humble and not be puffed off by the greatness of our gifts, since temptations have the power to repress us. Third, that the wicked demon, who for a while might be doubtful of our desertion of him, may well be assured by the touchstone of temptation that we have absolutely forsaken and abandoned him. Fourth, that we may in this way be made stronger and better tempered than any steel. And fifth, that we may obtain a clear demonstration of the treasures entrusted to us. For the rest of us who continue to fail in our many temptations, the realization that Christ hasn’t yet taken hold of our lives should cause us to fall at the door of His mercy this Lent, begging Him to strengthen us in our weakness. His door or mercy is always open to all seeking hearts!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, March 2, 2025

Sat, 01 Mar 2025 19:07:51 GMT

The 8th Sunday in Ordinary time often serves as the springboard into Lent, or the end of the runway from which we take-off for our Lenten and Easter flight. For the next twelve weeks, we shall traverse the spiritual terrain of Lent and Easter before touching down again on the 10th Sunday of Ordinary time . Today’s scripture readings help us suck in enough air to lift us air-bound for the twelve-week (flight) journey. Like a captain performing the final checks on the aircraft before its flight, Luke—our teacher for this liturgical year—presents us with a string of sayings from the Lord that we ought to pack into our bag for the journey. These appear as rules of life and living or what the Jewish rabbis would call Charaz —meaning, “stringing beads” (for the coming penitential season).

First, Jesus instructs that we must be clear-sighted and reject the blindness of the world. I’m not that old—some would tell me—but never in my life have I heard as much insincerity, opposition to faith and moral goodness, espoused as a way of life as it’s currently being engineered, and embraced by quite a good number in our time. Hence, Jesus warns that if we follow the guidance of the blind leaders of our day, we’ll end up in the pit. A disciple must instead choose as teacher one who truly understands reality and the concrete details of our created existence. We must disconnect from those who brazenly espouse error and whose only motive is to stamp on the world the deliberate intent of Satan—division, falsehood, hopelessness and decay. We must dissociate from those purveyors of moral and spiritual degeneracy who populate the media, the academia, and today’s altars of deceit. How often does it happen that your daughter whom you sent to college to learn how to think and grow in knowledge comes home indoctrinated with horrifying ideas espoused from our ivory towers? We must choose between Jesus, the Teacher, and these punks.

Second, Jesus cautions against judging others. He must have drawn laughter from His audience when He spoke about a man with a plank in his eye trying to extract a speck of dust in another’s eye. Drawing from Greek drama, He employs the word hypokrités —meaning, an actor with mask displaying a different persona. In the Gospels, the term is derogatory, implying disguise and lack of sincerity—often used to refer to the Pharisees. Isn’t it revealing that society’s greatest critics of the day are actors and entertainers who thoroughly qualify as hypocrites? Jesus warns the disciple against positioning oneself to criticize, noting that we stand no chance of being judged ‘good’ before God. I’ve forgotten who said that “there’s so much bad in the best of us and so much good in the worst of us that it ill becomes any of us to find fault with the rest of us.” Psychology uses the expression “compulsive neurosis” to refer to a condition in which one has an inane urge to criticize his or her own deep-seated fault when it’s seen in others. Be careful about opening your mouth too wide to criticize: you might be revealing your own fault. The wise words of Ben Sirach in today’s first reading: “One’s speech disclose the bent of one’s mind,” should ring a bell when we mount our high horse and position ourselves to criticize and judge others. Jesus does not, however, imply that we cannot lovingly correct others. He means that we’re not to develop ‘blind spots’ to our own faults and weaknesses while mauling others down.

Finally, Jesus teaches that character is a greater witness than words . Do not be the kind of teacher of whom it can be said: “I cannot hear what you say for listening to what you are.” No amount of words will replace life lived. Witness of life has to be the Gospel of the day. We must match words with life—beginning with me. Aristotle said, “the bee sucks honey from the flowers without injuring them,” so our life must produce and inject only the nectar of goodness.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, February 23, 2025

Sat, 22 Feb 2025 14:59:31 GMT

If you thought last Sunday’s Gospel was challenging, today’s Gospel from Luke 6:27-38 is a jawbreaker. The words we heard today are not the kind we would love to hear every day. When told about someone else, they sound too good to be true. For example, someone would wonder whether David was out of his mind when Saul’s life was handed to him on a platter but determined not to hurt him – the same man who took a battalion of his loyal soldiers to go in search of David in order to eliminate him. What about Jesus, who at the point of His excruciating agony prayed for the ones who nailed Him on the cross? Years ago it was all over the news that the Amish's forgave the man who murdered several of their kids at school. And in the very recent past we heard that members of a Black Church in South Carolina forgave the man who under the pretext of going for a Bible Class gained access into their Church, shot and killed their pastor and several members. These sound too good and heroic, but you may be thinking: “They’re not the kind of things I’m prepared to do yet.”

It makes sense to love good people, but not bad people who have done us harm. Doesn’t justice demand that? Jesus insists that we love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. That’s a radical. One preacher framed this question for the reflection of every person who associates with the name Christian: “Suppose Christianity were a crime, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” If the charge against you in court is that you’re a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you? Ruling out circumstantial evidence, like attending Mass or registering in a parish—a form of social stratification— would there be found hardcore evidence to convict you of being a Christian?

Christianity used to be fashionable and equated with being a nice person. Modern society no longer sees it so. In fact, we’re already being suspected and surveilled for being “orthodox Catholics”—which some in our government find as disqualifying factor for public office. Yet, the suspicion that “the dogma lives deeply in you” may not even be adequate. Jesus lets it all out— “If you love those who love you or do good to those who are good to you or lend or give to those from whom you expect to receive, how is that special?” He says that even sinners do the same. If we claim we’re basically good people, just so is about every person. Doesn’t everyone claim to be nice? If we claim we give a little to the poor, that’s not unusual, so did Robinhood. Jesus tells us that Christianity or Catholicism must mean something more and something different –“Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do not seek revenge, be merciful, stop judging, stop condemning, give, forgive etc.” These are the new levels we must reach. Those are the evidence with which to convict you.

Do these qualities and attitudes form your core belief as a Christian? Remember, that Christians of old were not the same as everyone else. Living like everyone else is not necessarily a good thing. We shouldn’t go with the flow simply because society doesn’t approve the kind of radical love for which Christians are known. Even should they consider the Christian way crazy, absurd or some naïve pie-in-the-sky idea, what should matter to us is that love demands that we live that way. It is the way of Jesus. Radical love includes one’s enemies; radical generosity means giving without counting the cost or expecting a return; radical forgiveness means that we forgive what others may consider unforgivable; radical mercy includes having mercy on those who do not deserve it; and radical tolerance calls us to pull down all barriers—of race, religion, ethnicity, language, and social class. To be convicted as Christian, we must start leaving forensic evidence all over the place: fingerprints of love, generosity, mercy, forgiveness, tenderness, and compassion toward all.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, February 16, 2025

Sat, 15 Feb 2025 15:55:26 GMT

Show by the raise of hand if you would love to be poor, starving, weeping, and hated by everyone. I’m sure many would not want those. Show by the raise of hand if you would love to be rich, well fed, laughing and well-spoken of by all. Those who won’t raise their hand just want to give the impression of humility, and maybe a false one.

The Gospel message of today would have us all wrong. We appear to be on a slippery slope with these words. What could be going on in Jesus’ mind that He presents discipleship as a topsy-turvy world? In answer, we must enter into the mind of St. Luke, the Evangelist. Although the same Holy Spirit inspired all four evangelists, each person’s audience is different. While Matthew’s audience consisted of Jewish Christians who were faced with a spiritual landslide that called for new attitudes, new mindset, transformation and awakening, Luke had a different demographic. Himself a convert from paganism, Luke addressed fellow converts; his audience was poor, persecuted and marginalized. Luke’s version of the beatitude, unlike Matthew’s places Jesus, not on the mountain, but on the plain—that is, on the same level with the poor, the suffering and the persecuted. Hence, Matthew’s beatitude is called “Sermon on the Mount” while Luke’s beatitude is “Sermon on the Plain.” And while Matthew had eight or nine beatitudes, Luke gives just four.

Let’s examine these four beatitudes. The poor are those who recognize their dependence on God, not on possessions. They may be wealthy, yet poor because their stuff really means so little to them. Years ago, a former parishioner’s home was gutted by fire. When I paid a visit to commiserate with the family, the mother told me: “Father, we’re strong; we have the Lord. What got burnt were stuff.” She identifies with the beatitudes. The hungry are not just starved of a well-cooked meal; they hunger for the Lord, and His word. Those who weep are the ones who feel for others in their suffering—like the victims of the hurricanes and fires. They weep for those living in the darkness of sin and error, unbelief, addiction and immorality—those throwing away everything for so little. People will hate you, insult you and call you names for choosing Christ and the truth. Do not be afraid of them. The Lord is with you.

Turning to the woes, these are not the kind of things people want to associate with a Jesus whom they have appropriated for convenience. In fact, looking at our lives from the lens of today’s Gospel, we don’t like what we see. Everything we appear to love and crave for is on the list. However, we need not cringe, because the woe is not for those who have worked hard to earn a living for themselves, but those who neglect the poor while we piling up more than is necessary for them. No woe will befall us because we have enough to eat, but because we overeat and overindulge—with waistlines dropping to the floor while children go to bed hungry. No woe will fall on us because we are happy and laugh, but because we perhaps laugh about things we should cry about, or because we celebrate iniquity, immorality and indecency. No woe will fall on us because good and righteous people praise our virtuous life, but because those who sing our praises are the corrupt and depraved who care nothing about virtue and who refuse to make up their mind about anything true and valuable, while they boast they’re being broadminded.

We learn from Luke’s beatitude that the spiritual life does not just involve a number of platitudes that many would love to talk about but never live. Luke’s beatitudes have a level of starkness that make them just blunt, really challenging and to the point, preventing them from being overly spiritualized or explained away . You’ll have to be deaf, blind and utterly closed-minded to claim that these beatitudes haven’t spoken directly to you.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, February 9, 2025

Sat, 08 Feb 2025 16:08:39 GMT

One of the primary decisions someone starting a business makes is to choose partners who will serve as both founding members, associates and employees. In a style characteristic of Luke, Jesus goes out in search of partners and wouldn’t pick them from among the armchair “professors,” aka, rabbis who knew the law and taught in the synagogues. His audience is found among the poor, the outcasts, the prisoners, the downtrodden, and the street people. Only people who have experienced harsh conditions, and—as Pope Francis says—smell like the sheep, would qualify as bearers of this new message. He goes in search of fishermen—yes, fishermen. It was a strategic decision for many reasons: Fishermen in Jesus’ time worked long hours; were night owls, sometimes “working all night” (Lk 5:4); mingled with common folks at the marketplaces where they sold fish; have access to important places too—providing fish for the royal and priestly tables (Jn 18:16); have encounters with spirits and ghosts (Mtt 14: 26), etc. Every skill needed to hand on this new message are potentially in fishermen. The new fishers of men will spend long hours sailing to distant lands, give up the luxury of sleep and recreation, take the good news to towns and marketplaces, deliver the message to people in high and low places—to kings, rulers and world bodies, and be prepared for the spiritual combat to which the message opens them.

Yet, their humanity is always the Achilles’ heel for those invited to fish men and women for God. Isaiah was called to fish for God the stiff-necked eight century BC inhabitants of Judah. He found himself before the all-encompassing holiness of God and his sinfulness was revealed. Paul repeatedly cried about his sinfulness, insisting that he was not worthy to be called an apostle given that he persecuted the Church. Peter, with his fishermen friends, was awestruck by the miraculous catch of fish and became aware of his humanity and sinfulness. “Depart from me,” he cried, “for I am a sinful man. ” The closer we draw to the light, the more the dirt in us is revealed. Our eyes will become blinded the closer they get to the sun. Before the All Holy God, we are only dust and rubble. And only He can rehabilitate us when we listen to Him and lay down our net, our pride, our indiscretion, our ego, and our sinfulness.

Often we fail to follow the promptings of faith because we feel we have mastery over events in our daily life. With a little knowledge of how the world works, some feel so competent to question the truth of faith. We become wiser when we come to appreciate, like Peter, that our knowledge of catching fish is nothing compared to that of the One who made the fish (McKarns). Our knowledge of science cannot pair in comparison with that of the originator of the laws of science and the maker of the material and supernatural universe. The expression “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord” is spoken by us in prayer to God, to declare in the superlative degree His immense glory and our humility and finiteness. The expression “Lay Down Your Net” is spoken by God to give us help in our weakness. Hence, when we have labored in vain, His merciful love comes to renew our strength and assure us that, trusting in Him, we can be astonished at the miracles He will work in us, and use us to work in others.

The huge catch of fish was not only the result of the command to lay down the net; it was, according to St. Gregory of Nyssa, a revelation that “the voice of the Word is the voice of power, at whose bidding at the beginning of the world, light and other creatures came forth.” At the bidding of the Word of Life, fishermen would turn to fishers of men. The conclusion of this incident could hardly be more episodic; they forsook all and followed him (Lk 5:11). All who make sincere effort to follow His word can overcome their past and make a fresh beginning. May we appreciate His smiling wisdom and lower our nets!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Presentation of the Lord, Year C, February 2, 2025

Fri, 31 Jan 2025 00:54:37 GMT

As he did on the walls of our Livingroom, my father wrote catchphrases and dates on the wall of his own bedroom. February 2, 1946 was a remarkable date on the wall by his bedside. It reminded him of his greatest regret or failure in life. That was the date he took the London General Certificate Exam (GCE), which he needed to pass in order to go to Cambridge England to train as a physician. The missionaries who evangelized our town had got the scholarship for just two boys from our entire province. Over 700 boys took the exams. He didn’t pass. Two other brilliant boys—he told us—did better than him. He went on to train as a teacher, retiring as a school principal. Fast forward to 1995: that was the year my brother graduated as Doctor of Pharmacy from a New York University. My father, that day, sang his “Nunc Dimittis,” like the holy man, Simeon. After my brother’s graduation, he wiped off the date on the wall by his bedside.

Today’s feast known in the liturgy as the Presentation of the Lord marks the revelation of the Lord as He enters His Temple. The Eastern Orthodox Church calls it the feast of “Encounter.” Coming forty days after the birth of the Lord, today’s feast naturally concludes the feast of the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) with the traditional Candlemas , and marks the Purification of Mary , as common, according to the law, for all Jewish women after childbirth. The candle procession proclaims Christ as the Light of the World , that bursts into the world to illumine its darkness. The purification shows Mary as a true child of Israel, obedient to the law—for though she knew that she had nothing to purify, having remained a virgin, before, during, and after the birth of her Son—she nevertheless, submitted to the dictates of the law. The purification thus marked a renewal of Mary’s total self-offering to the Lord. This accounts for why today is celebrated as World Day of Prayer for Consecrated Life , established by John Paul II in 1997 to pray for all religious men and women.

The first reading from the prophet Malachi paints a profound picture of the Lord’s encounter with His people: " I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me; and suddenly there will come to the temple the Lord who you seek" (Mal 3:1). John the Baptist was the Precursor and the messenger who prepared the way before Him. Malachy uses the adverb “suddenly” to introduce the coming of the Lord into His temple. The interval between Malachi and the Christ wasn’t that sudden—516 years. But the prophecy was more about the Precursor of Christ, John the Baptist. Hence, barely six months after the birth of John, the God-man suddenly enters His temple in full view of those who were awaiting Him. It marked the fulfilment of the prophesies and brought exceeding gladness to an old holy man, Simeon, and a righteous prophetess, Anna, who rejoiced to see the inauguration of man’s salvation. (This was like my father waiting another 49 years for his son to become a doctor).

The visit ended on a bitter-sweet note with Simeon prophesy: “This child is destined for the rise and fall of many in Israel, and to be a sign of contradiction; and a sword will pierce your heart, so that the secret thoughts of many may be laid bare” (Lk 2: 34-35). St. Cyril of Alexandria saw this ‘sign of contradiction’ as a noble cross, just as Paul wrote to the Corinthians ‘a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles’ (1 Cor 1:23). It is a sign of contradiction in the sense that those who reject it will reveal their foolishness, while salvation and life will become the inheritance of those who recognize its power [the cross]. St. John Paul II also taught that, ‘Simeon's words seem like a second Annunciation to Mary, for they tell her of the actual historical situation in which the Son is to accomplish His mission, namely, in misunderstanding and sorrow’ ( Redemptoris Mater , 16). May we welcome Him today and let His light illumine our darkness.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, January 26, 2025

Sat, 25 Jan 2025 23:02:54 GMT

Let me once again explain the reason for the three year cycle of the Church’s Liturgical Year. The arrangement of the Liturgical Year draws from the synoptic Gospels: Matthew, Mark and Luke. The years are distinguished using the letters ABC . In Liturgical Year A, our Gospel readings for Sunday Masses are taken from Matthew; in Year B, we are nourished through the Gospel of Mark; and in Year C, the Evangelist Luke becomes our teacher. How I learned it in my family catechism class was: “A is for Matthew, B is for Mark, C is for Luke;” and I never forgot it. Someone may be asking, “Where does the Gospel of John come in? Has he been left out?” John did not give a synopsis, that is, a summary or general survey of the life of Jesus as the other Evangelists did. His was rather a theologically rich and a spiritually deep Gospel, the purpose of which was to invite the listener to “believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in His name” (John 20:3). Hence, the Gospel of John is mostly read during the special seasons and feasts of the Church; and, sometimes too, interwoven during the year for the purpose of elucidating a particular mystery of faith. For example, during the last Year B, the “Bread of Life Discourse” from the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John came at the middle (17th Sunday of Year B through the 21st Sunday) to shed more light on an idea introduced by Mark on the 16th Sunday about God’s desire to offer us nourishment for body and soul.

I decided to give the summary of the Liturgical Year and its connection with the Gospels because today we heard the prologue to the Gospel of Luke, which is the Gospel for Liturgical Year C. The Gospel was clearly addressed to a Greek (might be Roman) convert to the faith, by name Theophilus. Luke calls his Gospel an accurate account of facts that have been properly investigated, which he presents in an orderly sequence. The prologue to the Acts of the Apostles, too, shows that Luke wrote twice to this convert. This can be compared to a priest writing two lengthy letters to an OCIA candidate detailing facts about Jesus, in order to elicit faith in the convert. But Luke could have also meant the letter for anyone who wishes to take the compliment of being, in Greek, a “ theo-philos ,” meaning, friend of God . Friendship with God opens one’s ears to hear the Word of Life. With that introduction, Luke started his narrative of the events we have been celebrating for the past seven weeks about Jesus’ birth, infancy, and baptism. With Christmas over, we are introduced today to Jesus’ public ministry. Luke says: “Here is your new Rabbi.”

Welcome to the Synagogue of Nazareth! Jesus was handed a scroll and from the prophecy of Isaiah he found His purpose statement. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, freedom to the oppressed, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord” (Lk 4:18). He announces that this scripture passage is today fulfilled in our hearing. What a news! Who are the beneficiaries of the good news? The poor, the prisoners, the blind, the oppressed, all who seek God’s favor. Are you in this group?

Significantly, Jesus did not promise to make the poor wealthy in this world. Sorry to the prosperity preachers, who promise people that God will make them materially rich. Jesus doesn’t agree with you. His glad tidings to the poor is that they have a special place in God’s heart. God is the wealth of the poor. In God, captivity becomes captive; blindness turns to a dark night of the senses where one sees God and oneself clearly through shutting the eye of the senses; freedom is derived by being fettered by Christ; and there is mercy and jubilation for those who have seen the dungeon in which sin has thrown them. The Lord who is kind and merciful comes to liberate us from our sinful self!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C, January 19, 2025

Fri, 17 Jan 2025 20:52:00 GMT

Despite the recent warning by the Surgeon General about alcoholic beverages, I won’t hide the fact that I occasionally like to have a glass of red wine after dinner, and Bailey’s Irish Cream for my coffee. In fact, Santa delivered a giant bottle of Baileys during the Christmas. That should last me a long time. Having made that disclaimer, I’m going to reflect on the Cana event, where Jesus miraculously changed water into wine. He didn’t produce a few liters for the final toast, but a hundred and fifty gallons. And it wasn’t cheap wine or grape juice, rather the best quality wine. Isn’t it ironic that while Fundamentalists advocate a literal interpretation of the Bible, on this miracle, they interpret wine to mean mere grape juice?

The abundant supply of wine in today’s miracle surprises, indeed. Did Jesus not know that the evil one uses alcohol to enslave people so he could spread misery in their lives? However, the second reading answers the question by illustrating the abundance of spiritual gifts—shining light on the spiritual meaning of the miracle. After the Pentecost, some observers accused the apostles who had emerged from hiding, saying: “They have been drinking too much wine” (Acts 2:13). Peter countered that “these men are not drunk since it is only the third hour of the day” (Acts 2:15). He spoke about the spirit that the Lord promised through the prophets that He would pour out on His people, which would be like new wine. The relationship between the Cana event and the Pentecost has been noted and studied: (1) The Mother of Jesus was a central figure in both events, (2) Each arose out of a needy situation, and (3) The gifts were meant for others. These points can certainly be elaborated further.

The miracle at Cana is a Gospel passage many would-be couples choose for their wedding. Many crucial points can be drawn from the miracle. The hosts of the event, the bride and groom, sent out invitations to many, including Jesus, His apostles, and His Mother. It does matter who we invite to our homes, our lives, or families, and by extension, our society. Because we often face inevitable embarrassing situations where our lacks, insufficiencies, and limitations reveal themselves, we need people around us who can supply those needs that we cannot fulfill by ourselves all the time. We cannot give ourselves love, life, happiness. Married people have needs they cannot fulfill for themselves. Hence, it won’t hurt to invite God, the author of all good things into our lives, our homes, and society.

Dr. Frank Luntz, a secular Jewish statistician, wrote a book titled, “What Americans Really Want...Really,” comparing and contrasting quality of life among people who practice their faith and those who don’t, or don’t have any. After an extensive research, results reveal that, “in general, people who have God in their lives are happier, healthier and more content compared to nonbelievers and non-practitioners. They are more likely to be happily married and more likely to spend time with their children. They are more likely to do volunteer work and less likely to engage in anti-social activities. They are better adjusted and closer to family and friends.” Dr. Luntz concludes: “Every type of positive pathology that we believe is good for the human condition has a direct correlation with sincere religious activities.”

We can adduce from the miracle at Cana that we need, not only God in our family, but also several members of the court of heaven. Those who say Jesus is enough for them are partially right; but they also need Peter, Elizabeth, Anna, Joseph, and especially Mary—for the times when Jesus may need to be persuaded to act, as He was at the Cana wedding. We need the Church too as a community of saints where we share life and love. And as a promise, God’s wine will be abundant.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Baptism of the Lord, Year C, January 12, 2025

Fri, 10 Jan 2025 10:37:00 GMT

While many Americans brought down their Christmas trees and decorations the day after Christmas, intentional Catholics know that Christmas season only began on Christmas day and concludes today with the feast of the Baptism of the Lord. Christmas, like Easter, is celebrated with an octave—eight consecutive days that liturgically form a single day. The octave of Christmas ended on January 1, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God . Last Sunday marked the Epiphany of the Lord . Today, Christmas season comes to an end, and we enter the Ordinary Time of the Year.

To understand the import of today’s feast, we must situate it within the incarnation or “enfleshment” of God, which is Christmas. Some key terms need explanation, namely, “natura” and “essentia,” in order to appreciate the meaning of Christmas. Nature is the form in which a being manifests itself. For example, God is the being whose nature is “to be;” that means: He manifests Himself as “esse” or existence. In a similar sense, we manifest ourselves as human, just as the grass manifests itself as vegetable. Distinct differences exist in the natures of God, humans, and vegetables. We do have something in common with grass, that is—we are creatures. God is uncreated: He always is or was or has been. However, we are made in God’s image. Now, we need not be adulated about that, just as a grass effigy need not rejoice overly that it is fashioned in the likeness of a human being. Christmas (or would I say, “Grassmas” or “Manmass”) for grasses would mean that one of us took the nature of grass, just as for us it means that God took our nature.

I don’t know what the most despicable thing about grasses is – maybe, allergies. But I know what it is for human beings: something we call SIN. Today’s feast is about God’s identification with the most despicable thing about us: sin. That was why John the Baptist, who perhaps understood well whom Jesus was, protested that he was not worthy to baptize the One who not only didn’t need it, but rather should baptize others. Jesus’ insistence to be baptized, thus, becomes climactic to the incarnation, for He desired to become one with all Israel (God’s people), you and me, in our sin condition. That was a moment of great divide. Heaven and earth become married; the old gives way to the new. The Spirit of God which “hovered” over the deep in the original creation (Gen 1:2) would now descend like a dove upon Him, signaling a new creation.

This new beginning was sometime in the past signaled to Noah after the dove returned to him bearing an olive branch to indicate that salvation—symbolized by dry land—was at hand (Gen 8:11). The flood, in Noah’s time, which destroyed the earth prefigured the baptismal water that destroys sin. Christ’s descent into the Baptismal water was meant, on the one hand, to sanctify it in order to quell completely, for God’s people, its destructive power, and, on the other hand, to turn it into an utterly destructive force for sin, for the enemies of God and His people, as He did at the Red Sea. The Holy Spirit descending as a dove on Jesus, just as He brought an olive branch to Noah, signals the arrival of God’s favor, a form of dry land, and an assurance of salvation.

Baptism is full of rich symbols. The Baptismal font here at St. John’s is shaped like a womb from which new babies are delivered. At St. Bernard in Jenks and St. Pius in Tulsa, you’ll get the sense of going into the grave, as you approach the Baptismal font—symbolizing dying and rising with Christ. St. Hilary of Poitiers says that “everything that happened to Christ during His baptism happens to us. After the bath of water, the Holy Spirit swoops down on us from high heaven, and we become adopted by the Father’s voice, calling us to be His sons and daughters.” By baptism we overcome Adam’s sinful death through God’s overpowering love.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Epiphany of the Lord, Year C, January 5, 2025

Fri, 03 Jan 2025 18:48:00 GMT

On the wall of my father’s living room hangs a large framed picture with these words: “Christ is the Head of this House, the Unseen Guest at Every Meal, and the Silent Listener to Every Conversation.” My father reminded us as kids that Jesus hears every word we utter, so we should make them kind. On the north side of the living room hangs another wise saying: “The Family that Prays Together Stays Together.” Hence, there is compulsory Morning Prayer for all at 5:00 am every day in our living room. But the third sign on the east side of the living-room was the one that none of us kids understood until a particular event. It reads: “Wise Men Still Seek Jesus.” My oldest brother had gone to college, and returning for Christmas break that very year—I believe it was December 1978—he skipped the compulsory Morning Prayer. My father gave orders to wake him and have him come to the living room. When he staggered in, he was directed to read the sign on the east side of the room, to which he muttered, “Wise Men Still Seek Jesus.” He was made to repeat that three times before my dad said: “If you think you’ve gone to college and become so wise that you’ll skip prayers, not in this house, because wise men still seek Jesus. ” It was then that we understood the meaning of those words, and the reference to the visit of the Magi.

Today’s feast calls to mind those same words on the wall of my father’s living room, which I have written on the walls of my own heart and advice you to write on yours today: “Wise men and women still seek Jesus.” Today’s feast is called the Epiphany of the Lord . Epiphany derives from the Greek word for “manifestation or appearing.” We celebrate today Christ’s manifestation to the world (gentiles) through the visitation of the astrologers from the east , whom we call the Magi or the Three Wise Men. Today the Eastern Churches celebrate Christmas; and it makes sense, because Epiphany is the great appearance of Christ to humanity.

The Magi observed His Star at its rising and came to pay Him homage with gifts worthy of a king—Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh—representing His triple role as King, Priest and Redeemer. Men and women of every age by the millions have continued to do the same, offering their homage to Jesus and changing lives through His inspiration. The newborn King of the Jews proclaimed by the Magi is now the universal king of many; and His name and deeds have spread to every corner of the earth. He is known by people of all ages, language, color, and ethnic origin. He is the king of over one billion Catholics who in every Church around the world celebrate His manifestation today. About one third of the world’s population is made up of Christians of every race: poor and rich, peasant and learned, professor and truck-pusher, who still seek Jesus, paying homage to their Lord, Redeemer and King.

Yet, there has recently emerged an elite class, highly (un)educated, who have been told that Christ takes away their freedoms, their rights, their self-esteem. In their foolishness and depravity (Psalm 14:1), they have turned against Christ and His followers. Nothing is new about this. Any learning that makes one think she/he is above Christ, the Wisdom of God, is utter foolishness, and how foolish are the men and women of our time who pose themselves as enemies of Christ. Perhaps, they are in possession of considerable knowledge, but without moral depth, concupiscence becomes frequently untempered. The pride of life, of power and possession, and the ambition of personal respect, all become dominant, with human living governed by the logic of self-centeredness. Wise people are wise because they know that they did not know everything, and they follow the star to seek the Wisdom of God, in whom their hearts delight. Seeking Him, we can have a happy and prosperous New Year!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary & Joseph, Year C, December 29, 2024

Fri, 27 Dec 2024 10:29:00 GMT

An RE teacher was once instructing her class on the importance of the family and things that money can’t buy. “Money can’t buy happiness, or laughter, or love,” she told them. To illustrate her point, she asked the children: “How much would I offer you not to love your Mom and Dad? A thousand dollars?” The class fell silent. Then a tiny voice spoke up and asked: “How much would you offer me not to love my big sister?” The other children started asking in turn, “How about my Mom’s boyfriend?” And another, “...my step-mom?” Yet another, “...Auntie Vic? She’s mean?” It became obvious to the teacher that she had opened a Pandora’s Box. We can also see that love is much easier vertically than horizontally. We certainly find it easier to claim we love our parents than our brother or sister or any of the individuals that today’s family structure has forced into our lives. Again, it is easier to claim we love God than our neighbor.

Today is the feast of Holy Family—the feast of families, especially the family of God, the Church. Coming right after Christmas, it presents us with the opportunity to reflect on our families. We should sit together as a family tonight and have an honest discussion about the health of our family, how close-knit we are, how much we mirror the Holy family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I’m sure several are worried about today’s family constructions, like that of Tom, Ted and Tim. Certainly, we are to look upon real families, not the mechanical constructions that society and the courts have forced on us. Yet, God’s love and peace goes to all who recognize themselves as His children and seek to do his will, especially during this holy season.

We hold the Holy Family as an ideal family. And the most important thing we can learn today is that it is necessary to strive for an ideal. We do have an idealized conception of Jesus, Mary and Joseph and it wouldn’t be wrong to ask us to live up to that ideal. That is why our Christmas cards with the idyllic nativity scene of the Holy Family, the animals, the manger, the angels and wise men stand out this season. Do you put up the Christmas tree and the paraphernalia around the tree and not worry to live like the Holy Family? Then, tell yourself the truth: You are a hypocrite. We must strive to be holy like the members of that family, obedient to the will of God like the animal companions of Jesus at his birth, detached from material things as represented in the manger, rejoice and carry the good news like the angels, and follow the star of divine wisdom like the wise men who sought out Jesus. The Holy Family stands in contradistinction to many modern families where pride, pleasure, confusion and sin are praised as noble goals.

Lest we forget, life was not completely smooth sailing for the Holy Family. In today’s Gospel, Luke affirms that the Holy family is not a necessarily tension-free family. The members experienced the same complexities, uncertainties, messiness, and worries that comprise everyday family living. For example, in today’s Gospel, we could see Mary at least mildly upset and her words carried some fire: “Son, why have you done this to us?” Like a typical 14 year old who wants to celebrate his coming of age, Jesus answers: “Why were you searching for me?” We are right to read the theological meaning of the statement by Jesus, searching and rediscovering him every day—a central point in Matthew Kelly’s Rediscover Jesus , which we gave out to everyone this Christmas. But perhaps, it didn’t sound very theological to Mary and Joseph who for three days had anxiously searched the entire neighborhood for their lost son. However, like the Holy Family, we should quickly resolve our misunderstandings and continue to grow in wisdom, age and grace before God and man. Happy feast day!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year C, December 22, 2024

Fri, 20 Dec 2024 15:27:00 GMT

On this Fourth Sunday of Advent and the last Sunday before Christmas, the Church focuses attention on a young pregnant woman about to deliver a baby. Her name appears in different forms today as Mary, Maria, Miriam, Marian or Mariah—a name used in many languages, showing how popular and important Mary is in our life.

Yet, not everyone is happy or comfortable with Mary. The story is told of a priest invited to give a talk to an Evangelical Protestant group having their Life in the Spirit seminar (You know that seminar where some groups learn to speak in tongues). The topic he was given was, “The Role of the Holy Spirit in Christian Discipleship.” He was forewarned to base his talk on the Bible only and avoid superstitions. The priest agreed happily and told them that his talk would be based on Lk 1:35, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you.”

To begin his talk, Father requested for all to take out their Bibles. But they already had their KJVs in hand. You know that old Protestant maxim: “If it ain’t King James Bible, it ain’t Bible at all.” [Pastor Ryan, an evangelical missionary working in Cambodia was startled at the response he got from his congregation in America when he requested for funds to get the Bible translated and printed in the Cambodian language—Khmar. His American congregation sent words back to him that there was no need for a Cambodian Bible, that they could send trucks of KJVs to him. If King James Bible was good enough for Paul, it should be good enough for the Cambodians]. Sorry for the digression.

Back to our story. With the KJVs in their hands, Father requested that they search out Lk 1:28. He invited everyone to read with him, and they all read: “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with thee.” He proceeded to ask them to turn to Lk 1:42, which was read at the Gospel today, and they read: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” The priest paused, looked at the bemused congregation who couldn’t believe what they just said. He then told them, “Congratulations! You have now prayed the first half of the ‘superstitious’ Catholic prayer, ‘Hail Mary.’” He went on to encourage the congregation that in order to be Spirit-filled disciples, we need to imitate Mary, who the angel told: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Elizabeth too, at her encounter with Mary became filled with the Holy Spirit and proclaimed, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” For that Evangelical group, it was a Life in the Spirit seminar gone awry. They so resist Mary that they’re willing to let go of the Holy Spirit if Mary was necessarily connected with Him, and if she would be a model for discipleship.

The Church teaches that the Holy Spirit, not Joseph, was the true Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Archangel Gabriel first announced her mystical union with the Holy Spirit, whose overshadowing caused her to become pregnant. Filled with the Holy Spirit, a Christian, like Mary, conceives Jesus in his/her heart and brings forth the Good News. The Holy Spirit hastens the disciple’s steps to carry on the news, share it, and rejoice in it. Hence, Mary travelled in haste to visit her sister Elizabeth who had also conceived mysteriously. Nothing demands speed, says Fulton Sheen, as much as the needs of others: to share their joys and sorrows, and to bring them comfort—that unction of the Spirit. Elizabeth was infected by Mary’s favor , for as soon as she heard Mary’s greeting, the infant in her womb leapt for joy and she was, in turn, filled with the Holy Spirit, and prophesied: “Of all women you are the most blessed.” Mary would then sing her song of gladness, which we call the Magnificat . We can learn to rejoice with others at the favors done to them, and like Mary fill this season with songs of inspiration and joy.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent, Year C, December 15, 2024

Thu, 12 Dec 2024 18:15:00 GMT

Happy “Gaudete Sunday!” I send you this greeting on this Rose Sunday or Rejoice Sunday . Gaudete is the Latin word for rejoice and it underscores the tune of today’s liturgy. You must have observed the change from violet to rose—a much brighter color. You also noticed the third rose Advent candle different from the rest and corresponding with the vestments to create a harmony of rejoicing. The readings of today echo the mood and atmosphere of rejoicing. An Ode written and put into song by Henry Purcell for the funeral of Queen Mary on December 14, 1558 took a line from today’s second reading, Phil 4:4-7. Purcell wrote in old English:

“Rejoice in the Lord alway; and again, I say, rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God...And the peace of God which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds, through Jesus Christ Our Lord.”

These words were actually written by Paul from his prison cell: in prison of all places. Can people rejoice in prison? St. Paul would rather ask in Romans 8:35: “What can separate us from the love of Christ? Would imprisonment or torture or nakedness or hunger or the sword?” He says: The peace of God surpasses all understanding. Purcell captures same in the beautiful Ode to Queen Mary.

Why is there rejoicing? The straight answer is: “The Lord is at hand.” As kids in my family, we usually waited in anticipation for the arrival of my older siblings for Christmas, from the city where they worked. The mere announcement that they’ll be home for Christmas gave us tremendous joy as we knew that they’ll be coming with new dresses, shoes, school bags, and most importantly, new football (soccer ball). By December 16th, we are very anxious or, would I rather say, we are full of joy as the assurance of their coming is enhanced by a letter of a phone call. What do we do to prepare for their return? We clean the house, wash the curtains and drapes, cut the grasses around the yard, cover potholes, and put things at their proper places. We wake up looking for more things to do.

In the dialogue with John the Baptist which we read in today’s gospel, the people asked, as my siblings and I would: “What must we do?” That should be the question on every lip at this point in our advent journey. How may I experience a full blossom of the coming and anticipated joy? John tells them to share their goods with the poor. Have you given a gift this season to someone who cannot give you back? Not your children or grandchildren, but the poor of the world. Have you contributed to the St. Jude’s clothing drive for Christmas? Everyone should be part of the giving. Children should be taught to give toys to another child who has none or donate a pair of kids’ socks to the clothing drive. Even soldiers and tax-collectors asked what they could do. Our military veterans who are home for the holiday are not exempt. Banks, credit card and pharmaceutical companies, gas stations, lenders, and politicians who have made a fortune from people’s sweat are called to give massively this season. Those who have made huge profits by charging high interest rates should start writing off people’s debts. Airlines that have charged cut-throat prices for checked bags and extra leg room must now give. This is the Jubilee Year of Hope, and hope for a better America and a better world is in high demand.

In12 days, we’ll sing, “Sleep in heavenly peace.” Would you be part of the peace announced by John? You might have posted Christmas lights, trees, snowmen, and Santa to their places. How about putting your soul in order through forgiveness and reconciliation? Have you fixed what needs fixing in your life, your soul, and your relationships? Listen to John the Baptist as he calls.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent, Year C, December 8, 2024

Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:32:00 GMT

President Eisenhower will live forever in the hearts and minds of American citizens. The young may not know much about him but it doesn’t take much effort to understand his contribution to our nation building. When you drive on any Interstate of four-lane or more highway across the country, remember Eisenhower. For example, Interstate 90 (I-90) runs from Boston Massachusetts to Seattle Washington, spanning a distance of 3,099 miles of highway that cut through mountains, valleys, rivers and thick forests. Interstate 10 runs from Jacksonville Florida to Santa Monica California, a distance of 2,460 miles, connecting other highways and interstates, and transporting people, goods and services from one section of the country to the other. The super-highways that first served for military purposes, namely, to deploy troops to any part of the country without delay, have become essential for civilian life. This Advent, we reflect on the spiritual import of erecting in our hearts a superhighway for the Lord.

John the Baptist calls for the construction of a superhighway for the coming of the Prince of Peace. That makes him greater than Eisenhower who promoted the building of superhighways for the quick deployment of troops. His message was that we reform our lives for the deployment of the arsenal of righteousness and peace and so that the Lord can find unrestrained access to us as we await his advent. We’re to remove the hazards and IEDs on the way, flatten the hills, fill up broken precipices and straighten ways twisted with curves.

To flatten the hills means to reduce the heights of our pride, arrogance, vanity, self-sufficiency, wrath and impatience. To fill up broken precipices means to seal with the wax of God’s mercy holes created in us by the baseness of our ego, our revenge, rivalries, hatred and retaliations—sins that make it difficult to live in harmony with others and prevent the accomplishment of the Kingdom of Peace and Justice that Christ brings. To straighten the ways twisted with curves means to rectify our ways, change our course, if we go by twisted and mistaken ways that do not take us to God.

I am sure that if I pause for half a minutes now, many of us will be able to recall half a dozen things we did which we regret and would like to erase from our lives, if we could. Some are hurts, disappointments, anger and folly, folded up and gently tucked inside our subconscious, which we fear to ignite. A well-known novelist, Somerset Maugham, after numerous visits to the counselor said: “I have committed follies; I have a sensitive conscience and I have done things in my life that I am unable to entirely forget: if I had been fortunate enough to be a Catholic, I could have delivered myself of them at confession and after performing the penance imposed, received absolution, put them out of my mind forever.” I am sure many Catholics, including me, are not very excited about confession, just like a child, or in fact anyone, dreads the visit to the dentist. But a decaying tooth doesn’t care about your dread of the dentist. The consequences of staying away may become severe damage to your teeth. Similarly, the consequences of staying away from confession may be irreparable damage to your eternal salvation.

Are you alone, in this cold winter, wandering along the dark edge of night, sharpening the peaks of your pride, letting your blind ambitions and selfishness become mountain-sized obstacles between you and God? Have your stock of cheating, lying and crookedness turned to hairpin curves and you find yourself at the dead end of life devoid of joy? This Advent, the Lord comes to tear down those mountains and valleys that sin has erected. Are you ready to welcome Him? He comes humbly as a child and invites us to humble ourselves too, because according to him, “Only the childlike goes to heaven.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent, Year C, December 1, 2024

Fri, 29 Nov 2024 11:11:00 GMT

on a very optimistic note. Jeremiah foretells that Judah shall be safe and Jerusalem dwell secure. Imagine that! Isn’t that the kind of news we long to hear today as the drums of war sound and more conflicts seem to arise? Won’t you love to hear that our airplanes, theaters, malls, and stadiums shall be safe and secure for us this coming Christmas season? Our desire is to be secure. Security, however, breeds complacency. Hence, Jesus warns in the gospel about the danger of growing complacent and letting our hearts become drowsy with carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of life.

Several are counting down the days to Christmas and are already filled with the anxiety of what would be the best gift for XYZ, ideas for decorations, flamboyant flowers and Christmas trees. I was surprised how early the so-called Holiday commodities were rolled out in the shelves this year. While on my way back to the US a couple of weeks ago, I saw Christmas trees already displayed at Frankfurt Airport, Germany and Chicago O’Hare. And last Friday, I couldn’t help but marvel at the earnestness with which people were swooping on the cheap stuffs rolled out at the malls—all while complaining about how bad the economy is. We seem trapped. I plead for such earnestness in stocking our hearts and souls with valuable spiritual goods.

Our citizens love to buy new things and throw away old stuff. Every thrash pickup day, we gather our refuse into the refuse bins and bring them out to be thrown away by the thrash collectors. How much more beneficial it will be if we also bring out our old stock of sin, selfishness, arrogance, immorality, corruption, infidelity, injustice, discriminations and all sorts of filth inside us; disposing of them at the confessional, where, priest-thrash-collectors pick them up to thrash for us. But many are not in a hurry, because they hope to make it to confession before they die, not considering that, as you live your life, so you die. The story is told about two Catholics who discussed about salvation over a keg of beer. One said: “I’m making my confession on my deathbed, like the Good Thief.” His buddy replied, “There were two thieves on the cross; one guy didn’t make it to confession, even with the Supreme Chief Priest there. What makes you think you won’t be the second guy?”

Advent is the period for spiritual thrash removal. Several have piles of dirt on their souls; some have swept theirs under the carpet. The molds form into depressions and psychoses, which they pay psychiatrists to take away. As the number of those clinicians grows, so does the filth. These days, drug companies have jumped in, promising to take sin away with new brands of pill. The failure of the “sin-pills” to take away sins is seen in the number who call it quits and take their lives, and sometimes, the lives of other innocent people. Had they recognized that the Lamb of God, who comes to us this season as a babe is the only “sin-pill” available to humanity , they would have sought Him with zeal. But their hearts are coarsened, darkened and drawn away from the source of all good in their adventure to find life outside the author of life.

This Advent, the Holy Father inaugurates the Jubilee Year of Hope . What a great opportunity to renew our hope in God’s offer of transformation, which leads to abundant life in himself. This Jubilee Year, we are encouraged to make spiritual pilgrimages, either to Rome or some sacred site within our diocese. A special plenary indulgence will be received by all who make a Pilgrimage of Hope this year. Fortunately, our parish church has been designated as one of the pilgrimage sites for the diocese. We will offer more information on how we can take advantage of this opportunity to renew hope in our life and our community. Welcome to Advent! Happy New Year!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Our Lord Jesus Christ King of the Universe, Yr B, November 24, 2024

Fri, 22 Nov 2024 19:19:00 GMT

The reason some people deride Jesus and fail woefully to visualize and recognize Him as king is chiefly because they do not understand His initial claim to kingship. To be fair to them, it’s kind of unseemly to perceive as king, one standing before another king in handcuffs, defending His kingship: with bruises all over His body, and thorns as crown. We’ll agree that such a king would be a weak and effeminate one. And if you’re his subject, then you’ll be no better than the wretched of the earth. Yet, such a person is the One we are celebrating His kingship today. Aren’t we insane? Aren’t we as wretched as our king?

America is not ruled by kings and do not really understand that concept. Yet, we’re fascinated to hear about royalty in England and other places. For us, though, we are content with leaders to whom we can yell when we feel our demands are not met; and until very recently, we just don’t appreciate people outside our borders yelling at our president. Even with horrible approval ratings, we didn’t use to think that way, because every four years we have the chance to send them packing. But the king we speak about today is one you can mock and even deny, yet expect his benevolence. Who’s this king?

Jesus’ answer is, at best, shocking: “My kingdom is not of this world; my kingdom is not that kind.” So, He still claims to be king. Pilate put a question to Him the intent of which was to amuse the hearers: “So, you are a king, then?” Jesus didn’t hesitate to let Pilate and all know that He truly is King and the greatest of kings, because He exercises dominion over our hearts, minds, thoughts and consciences. It is at the center of our being, in our consciences that He set up His State House, His Congress and Supreme Court—not at Pennsylvania Avenue, at Capitol Hill or our Supreme Court. And He truly rules.

Christ’s mission was to bear witness to the truth imprinted in our consciences. This explains why the conscience is the greatest weapon against the self, because it’s not of our making; otherwise we could induce it always to testify in our defense, as alienists may sometimes testify in court for any side that hires them (Sheen). Beat it down as you may, the conscience would tell you—”you are that murderer, that adulterer, that liar”—even as you try to deny the act and shut your conscience up. Shakespeare had Lady Macbeth say: “Infected minds to their deaf pillows must discharge their secrets.” It’s extremely hard to lie to or against one’s conscience, which is God’s judgment seat right inside us.

Let me tell you why the world hates the Catholic Church and would be happy to see her demise. The Church does not intrude into our personal lives, as some claim, nor does she send any police to our homes to monitor our moral lives. The Church will never send Fr. Jo or any Church official to your homes to monitor who obeys their parents, who respects and loves their spouses, who prays and teaches their children to pray, whether you binge pornography, whether or not you use artificial contraceptives in your marriage beds, or whether the man or woman you slept with last night or sometime ago was your true spouse. Yet, your stomach turns when I talk about these. People would want to shut the Church up when she teaches these values because they touch their consciences and are based on truth. That is the true meaning of kingship.

At Calvary, we see a defeated Man who ultimately became a conqueror because He died for the truth. Jesus is our king in the true sense of the word and it is His prerogative to reign over us. Like it or not, He will rule. If our world recognized this, there would have been no murders, hatred, divorces, no terrorists, no blackmail, no wars, greed, and oppression. These have come to be part of our everyday experience because many chose as king, an enemy, the Devil, rather than Jesus, our true Friend, Lord, and King.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, November 17, 2024

Fri, 15 Nov 2024 18:27:00 GMT

That the judgment of God would come upon the world and all created things is as consoling as it is [very] scary. Consoling— because God will then put to an end the power of the evil one and all evil doers. He will extinguish death, crime, injustice, oppression, sickness and suffering, hunger and disease. We will have no further need for prison walls to keep the criminals away from us, law courts to adjudicate cases, hospitals to scare us with diagnoses of cancer and heart disease, army to fight terrorists around the world who take pleasure in planting bombs on our planes and buses. The justice of God will bring these to a complete halt.

On the other hand, God’s judgment and even the thought of it could be scary. Scary—because the judgment will come upon us and all mankind. It will come upon groups, nations, civilizations, etc. It won’t be just for our enemies: those we consider and call evil. Each and every one of us will be judged. There will be no lawyer to hire for our defense; no judge to bribe. The Just Judge will bring even judges and lawyers to judgment. Alito, Roberts, Thomas, Sotomayor, and the rest, will have their day before the Supreme Just Judge.

The first reading from the prophecy of Daniel informs us that it is going to be a time of great distress, unparalleled since nations first came into existence. Mention is made of the Archangel Michael who is the guardian of God’s people and the great destroyer of the evil one. He is the one to whom it belongs to see that all whose names are written in the Book of Life will be spared; while shame, horror and everlasting disgrace will be the lot of those who have not kept faith.

Should we be afraid of God’s judgment? Yes and no. Yes, because it puts into focus the choice we have to make between good and evil, right and wrong. Certainly, the holy fear of God and his judgment should move us to live lives pleasing to Him each day, as though tomorrow would be the last day. Yet again, we should not be afraid because Jesus Himself will be the judge. Isn’t He the one whom we invoke everyday as our defense attorney, as the one who pleads our cause, our defender before God? (I John 2:1). No attorney is happy to lose a case and have a client charged as guilty. She will do all within her ability and power to gain freedom for the accused. Similarly, all who invoke the Son of God and truly follow His counsel will gain total freedom, and enjoy everlasting bounty with the Father. Corroborating this evidence, the Letter to the Hebrews, in Chapter 4, verse 7 says that Jesus “offered prayers and entreaties (for us) with loud cries and tears to God.” The same Letter to the Hebrews speaks of Christ as the one “who is always able to save those who approach God through him, since he forever lives to make intercessions for them” (Heb 7:25). Above all, He is the Mediator of the New Covenant , because His death has taken place for the deliverance from the transgressions we committed (Heb 9:15). We are invited to put our hope and confidence in Him, following His ways; and as a consequence, we would need have no fear of judgment. How about those who reject Him, mock Him, and drive Him away from their lives and other peoples’ lives? They will surely face severe judgment. ‘ Everlasting shame, horror and disgrace will befall them’ (Daniel 12:2).

On this Sunday preceding Christ the King and the end of the Liturgical Year, we are reminded about the end. But by saying that no one knows the time, not even Himself, Jesus politely tells us not to spend our lives speculating about the time or following the likes of Jim Jones, David Koresh and other doomsday alarmists. Instead, we should stand ready, praying at all times, that God may deliver us and all called by Him from evil or becoming trapped by current day cynicism to which the mockery of faith is an exercise of freedom.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, November 10, 2024

Sat, 09 Nov 2024 11:22:00 GMT

Last week, we honored our heroes and heroines in the faith; members of our extended family who have either completed their journey to heaven or are being purified unto glory. Together with them, we form the one Church in its various states: militant, suffering and triumphant. This week, we honor the men and women who like the widow of Zeraphat took great risks to share with others the last morsel of bread in their jar, and the last drop of oil in their jug. Sacrifice means giving up something to which we attach a great value, and the greatest thing we can give up is our life. Whether one gives up his or her life for a spiritual cause or for the peace and security of others, there is always the sense that the giver becomes “a beast of burden” or a veteran.

The Latin word veterinus from which the word veteran derives means “beast of burden.” The Latin adjective “vetus,” which means “old” gives the sense of having many years . Hence, our veterans would be men and women who carried the burden of defending our faith, our country or humanity and have now grown old in the struggle; albeit some died in the struggle or from the injuries sustained. Military veterans who are living today recall memories of war, near-death experiences, images of fellow soldiers who fell in battle, women and children who got trapped and lost their lives, cities and villages pummeled, and all the travails of war. We say in the Church that the blood of martyrs form the seed of Christianity. May the blood shed by our veterans and the sacrifices of the survivors bear fruits of peace and concord in our world!

For the rest of us, today’s readings challenge us to give from our hearts, and to give until it hurts. The offerings of the two poor widows did not amount to so much but had high spiritual value. For example, the widow of the Gospel gave two coins which consisted of all she possessed; while the offerings of the rich, according to Jesus, consisted of money they could easily part with or their surplus. Both offerings are acceptable to God, because the house of God to which the offerings are made needs sufficient gifts to maintain it. However, the widow’s offering was deemed greater in the sight of God because she gave trustingly and meant her gift to be (even) a challenge to God. Her financial situation would not have changed any better had she kept her two coins, as they were insufficient to sustain her life. Her gift, thus, was a prayer to God who sustains all life. Our gifts should always be a prayer to God who owns all and gives all.

Some rich people make a show of their gift to attract the praise and admiration of others, thus making their gift a prayer unto themselves and assuming and grasping the position of God to whom all praise belongs. They are often reluctant to part with the bulk of their wealth, which procures for them all the luxuries imaginable—beautiful homes, cars, boats, clothing, food, beverages, cruises, influential friends, and so forth. Many times, when they give away what they no longer needed, the purpose is to create room for the newest brands of material goods, to compete with their rich friends. And their gifts must be acknowledged in order that they may receive the tax breaks. Charity like those of the poor women in today’s readings is measured not by what is given but by the intensity of love with which it is given. And such sacrificial giving, our faith tells us, is the shortest step-ladder to the supernatural—for God loves a cheerful giver .

The gospel of today is not meant to embarrass the rich, without whose donations we cannot have and maintain our Churches, hospitals and charitable organizations. The rich are rather called to emulate the spiritual poverty of the widow of today’s Gospel, and by acquiring the esteemed virtue of humility, transform their gifts into prayer and real equity for their bank in heaven.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, November 3, 2024

Sat, 02 Nov 2024 10:36:00 GMT

limitation when it comes to the use of the word ‘love.’ There is no word as empty of meaning as the word ‘love’ in English language. Even languages as primitive as Greek and Latin have different words that put the idea of liking or loving in context. But in our dear English language, the word love is used to express whatever we feel is important to us—whether or not it makes sense—as well as some of the most sublime acts of sacrifice. A soldier who puts himself in harm’s way to fight for his country could use the word ‘love’ to describe his sacrificial commitment to his country—“I love my country,” as an alcoholic would say—“I love my bourbon.” Nowadays, if you don’t agree with some behavior or lifestyle of your neighbor or family member, the question that’s easily thrown at you is: “Where’s the love in your heart?” Consequently, among all the words in the English dictionary, love is perhaps the singular word that suffers from the highest misconception. To the scribe who asked which commandment of the law was the first, Jesus reads the Pledge of Allegiance of the Jews called the Shema . It says: “Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.” He went on to add: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Here, Jesus quotes directly the words of the first reading today from the book of Deuteronomy. The addition, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” is not part of the Shema but comes from Leviticus 19:18. Jesus did not quote the verse entirely but lifted the words, “love your neighbor as yourself” from the verse. The entire verse 18 says: “You will not exact vengeance on, or bear any sort of grudge against the members of your race, but will love your neighbor as yourself.” It is significant that Jesus dropped the first part of the verse which limited love to members of one’s race, hence, permitting hatred toward those that are not of your race. I’m also surprised that the scribe didn’t react to that but agreed wholeheartedly with Jesus. But the point I want to make is that going by the modern interpretation of love, the Shema will be impossible. God is not a being to whom you can give or from whom you can expect mere warm cozy feeling. Could that be the reason why the love of God and love of everything Godlike has grown cold in the hearts of modern people?

Next are the faculties with which we are to exercise love: all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength. If you take out these four faculties (heart, soul, mind and strength) nothing remains of the human person. This proves that love happens with the whole person and is not limited to one or another specific faculty . Unfortunately, for many, love exists only in the glands.

How was it that Jesus felt at liberty to add a second part to the Shema ? Never before had any rabbi done so nor would have any thought of adding to or removing from the law. What makes Jesus’ addition exceptional is the statement following the answer He gave to the scribe, “There is no other commandment greater than these.” Matthew’s account added: “On these two depend the entire law and prophet;” meaning that one cannot be taken without the other—like the two threads on which a weight hangs. If you cut off one thread, the object (weight) would necessarily collapse. Love of God and love of neighbor (without limits of country, tribe, race, language, tongue) is the greatest commandment. No amount of sacrifice can suffice for love of God and neighbor. Religious observance that excludes love of neighbor, like that of the priest and the Levite who passed by the wounded traveler in order to attend to God’s service, is a loveless sacrifice . Similarly, philanthropism and any form of human love that excludes the author of love is an exercise in futility. Sooner than later, its true color will appear and the charade will lose its muster.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, October 27, 2024

Fri, 25 Oct 2024 14:25:00 GMT

As we get closer to election day, more and more people are plastering their yard and vehicles with words announcing their social or political beliefs or things they feel compelled to let all of us know about? From “Lisa for President” to “I Love Brent, My Pet” and similar aphorisms. Recently, I saw a bumper sticker that says, “I’m Queer, Deal With It.” But the one that got on me was a bumper sticker that says “Jesus is the Answer;” which made me wonder or even ask, “What is the question?” Is Jesus the answer to my teacher’s question on quadratic equation? What if a student should insert the word “Jesus” to every Geometry question in a class test? It may cause some laughter, but not a good grade. Certainly, Jesus is not the answer to every question. Today, we meet a guy who has the best words in his own bumper on an exit road from Jericho. His name is Bartimaeus.

With eight well-chosen words, the blind man of today’s Gospel, Bartimaeus reached the ears and heart of the Lord. Those eight powerful words “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me” have entered into the lips of the praying Church and have been prayed perennially as invocation, ejaculatory prayer, Act of Contrition, and intercessory prayer. Those were forceful words from a blind beggar which made the Lord stop and ask who had said such faith-filled prayer. Trapped in the dark sad world of blindness and precluded from seeing the splendid colors of flowers, the delightful blossoms of the olives, and the rustling of the pines and palm trees surrounding the high hills of west Jericho, Bar-Timaeus —his name meaning son-of–honor —wished for the day when he could have the honor of feasting his eyes on the beauty of creation, which he must have heard so much about from those privileged with sight.

His answer to the question by the Lord, “What do you want me to do for you?” evokes strong emotion: “Lord, that I may see!” One can only imagine what joy came upon Bartimaeus as the beauty of God’s creation that he had only smelled and touched dance before his eyes, including the most breath-taking sight that anyone can ever behold: the face of the Living Incarnate God. According to our Lord, his faith did it for him. What can your faith do for you?

Surely, you’ll be filled with fullness of joy when He removes your shame, giving you the timaeus (honor) to see His glorious face. Probably, you’re still trapped in spiritual blindness that prevents you from seeing your faults, but only other’s faults. Maybe, you’ve lost your way and wander in the darkness of erroneous beliefs and sinful living. Maybe, you are like an owl, awake at night or in some dark place all to yourself, polluting your mind with the vermin of pornography and surrendering your body to shameful lusts and desires. Maybe you’ve acquiesced to hopelessness because society tells you it is okay to sin and gloat. You could also have read Pope Francis wrongly, believing he promises you mercy without repentance. From our gloomy shadow of despair, we’re invited to “cry out”—to the Son of David—as Joshua of old instructed God’s people (Joshua 6:10) in order that He may purge us of sin, and the walls of iniquity may crumble before us. That is how Jesus can be the answer for us.

Do you remember that march by Joshua and the Israelite army seven times over Jericho, which caused the walls to collapse? Jesus, the new Joshua —God saves—is taking along a new army of believers as He journeys to Jerusalem to free them from slavery to sin. The walls of the new Jericho that Jesus came to dismantle are certainly the arrogance and blindness of modern society that inhibit the inhabitants of this new Jericho from seeing clearly the spiritual values that underlie their existence. Bartimaeus—representing the new Jericho—knows that Jericho holds no hopes for him; so he finds companionship with the new Joshua, the conqueror of Jericho’s blindness. Like Bartimaeus, we should follow suit.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, October 20, 2024

Fri, 18 Oct 2024 16:06:00 GMT

Among classmates, colleagues, associates, and even families, it often happens that someone feels she or he is specially gifted and would want to dominate and control others. It grows into a craving for power and authority. If you think that such power-play would be out of place among Jesus’ disciples or in the Church, think again. It was disappointing to hear Jesus’ disciples display this shameful attitude that is common in the corporate world. You can imagine the kind of power tussle that reigned in the early Church when you remember that references were made to Peter as the leader, then suddenly it was James; and when Paul came into the scene, it was nearly a staccato. The most disappointing thing about today’s unthinking request by James and John is that it came right after Jesus’ prediction of His passion, showing profound misunderstanding of the person and mission of Jesus. Yet, we cannot judge them too harshly because our situation is worse. 2000 years after hearing this Gospel, we still hear of power tussles in the Vatican, and fights over Episcopal appointments in some dioceses of the world.

Jesus takes time to educate the apostles and us on the true meaning of authority. When He gave the missionary mandate, He did base it on the statement “all authority in heaven and earth” (Matt 28:18); hence, He did not exclude power and authority from the mission of the Church. Yet, He pushes for a totally different approach to power and authority. In contrast to the worldly view, power and authority are essentially for mission and service, and both mission and service are for community building, sanctification, and unification in Christ. The term the Church applies for this sacred service is the Greek word “diakonein;” and to emphasize the importance of this sacred service, the Church instituted the office of the permanent diaconate. Power and authority in the Church are clearly synonymous with service and even servitude . Thus, Jesus explains that “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be doulos or slave of all” (Mark 10:44). The use of the phrase “slave of all” is deliberate and paradoxical. By commanding that His followers voluntarily subordinate themselves as servants and slaves of all, Jesus underlines His ideal of universal service toward others.

In essence, all Church leaders—pope, bishops, priests—are (and must be) deacons. It was Pope Gregory the Great who, to epitomize this servant role, took the title “servus sevorum Dei” (servant of the servants of God), and since after him all popes have retained the title. The point is that both Bishop Konderla and Fr. Jo are your servants. The degree to which we serve or our intensity of service demonstrates our love and fidelity to Christ and His Church. If I serve joyfully, my love for God shines forth; if I serve shabbily and grudgingly, I dim the face of God in your midst. If I disrespect you, I do the same to God.

All other faithful followers of Christ are servants in their own rank as fathers, mothers, teachers, lawyers, bricklayers, since they are not precluded from service. They alleviate the sufferings of others with the balm of Christian charity, that is, with their kind hearts, gestures, and material goods. We know many men and women in our parish who support the Church and fellow members with their time, talent and treasure. For example, we have people who silently spend time to decorate the altar with flowers, wash and iron the sacred linens and altar drapes, and replace the candles. A recently deceased parishioner would call every month to know if we’re meeting up with the bills, and would write a check when possible. Someone recently asked to clean and polish the thurible. Another will repair a window, replace a faulty electric wire, serve the sick, and welcome people as greeters. The opportunities to serve with love are countless. The true servant does not seek praise or the adulation of others because she knows that an everlasting reward awaits her in heaven.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, October 13, 2024

Fri, 11 Oct 2024 17:56:00 GMT

One of the topics that my English language teacher in Elementary school taught was Correlative Constructions used in positive or negative comparisons, such as: “as sweet as honey,” “as white as snow,” “as innocent as a dove,” and then, “as wise as Solomon.” The first reading today suggests why we use that positive comparison “as wise as Solomon.” Solomon was a king who was given a choice between wisdom and wealth. In every line of the first reading he expressed why he preferred wisdom to wealth, thrones, health and beauty. For us, the challenge is “how to recognize wisdom when we see her?”

There’s this story that someone told me years ago or I might have read it. I’ve forgotten the details but I think I remember the core message of the story as to be able to retell it. Some of you may have heard it or know the story better. It was about a family visited by three guests; one was wealth, the other was beauty, and the third was love. As the story goes, the house owner was to choose from among the three guests whom to take into her home. Without hesitation, she decided to invite love, and the other two followed love inside. She asked why and was told that love attracted the rest because love always attracts other blessings. Wealth and beauty do not thrive for a long time without love. The bottom line being that we ought to make the right choice.

The rich man in today’s gospel—who represents the world—wasn’t a bad person. He indeed kept the whole law. Many of us would feel disgruntled to learn that keeping the whole law, both of God and country, wouldn’t qualify us for heaven: no criminal record, no traffic offence, no tax violations. You are by the records “ a good American ”—whatever that means. More so, you tithe to your Church, have kept all Church laws (for them), yet no hope. You wonder, like the apostles, “who then can be saved?” The right question should be: “What is lacking in me?” That was the question asked by the rich young man.

Jesus cast a gaze of divine love on the young man asking him to return that love by surrendering all his earthly attachments, followed by an invitation to place himself in solidarity with the poor (Healy). The rich young man failed the love test because he knew something was missing in his life—“all these I have kept from my youth; what more need I do” (Mk 10:20)—yet, when Jesus directs his gaze toward the answer which his heart longs, he balks. In contrast to the rich young man, Francis of Assisi heard the same call to sell everything and follow Christ and he left home and a comfortable career to follow Christ in the exercise of evangelical poverty.

No need to become afraid that you may be the next person Jesus would ask to abandon everything to follow him. God doesn’t issue the same invitation to all. He calls some to serve as his priests and others in the monastery or nunnery; yet, many are to serve from their homes in the world as soldiers, teachers, doctors, fire-fighters, lawyers, housewives, etc. Nevertheless, total detachment from one’s possessions is demanded of all. If you are passionate about eternal life, you must look beyond the comfort of earthly wealth.

Money is not man’s ultimate goal. Wealth often generates a sense of false security blocking the road to heaven, especially when the wealthy become self-indulgent, arrogant, and inconsiderate to the needs of the poor. This applies both to wealthy individuals and nations. Conferences called to help poor nations are unnecessary, especially when they’re (often) organized to signal virtue, while organizing costs exceed the actual proceeds to the poor. Charity does not admit of delay. We are not owners but stewards of any material goods we have. The call today is to eschew the culture of consumerism and share our goods with guests, the sick, and the poor (CCC, 2404-5).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, October 6, 2024

Sat, 05 Oct 2024 10:31:00 GMT

On December 28, 2000, I officiated at the wedding of my childhood friend, Chukwudi (God-is), and his wife, Mma (Beauty), who both are medical doctors. They chose the first reading of today (Genesis 2:18-24) as one of the readings for the Mass, so in my homily I decided to take them to task. I asked them how many ribs a woman has, to which they replied 12. I objected that the Book of Genesis disagrees with them. The wife corrected me that Genesis doesn’t say the woman has only one rib rather that God built the rib He had taken out of the man into a woman. That doesn’t suggest that the woman has only one rib.

I wasn’t done with them. I asked further, “Why of all bones in the body would God choose the rib that’s not particularly strong?” Mma, who was the valedictorian at their graduation from medical school, went on to lecture the congregation on human anatomy. She said that while the internal vertebrate structure composed of bone and cartilage protects and supports the soft organs, tissues and parts, the ribs are cast like a supporting structure or framework that protects the most essential organs of the body like the heart, the lungs, the kidney, and the liver. According to Mma, God cast the woman into a supporting structure or framework to protect the man. In our back and forth, I asked Mma if she thought she’s a supporting structure for my friend, to which she answered, “absolutely, Padre.” The congregation stood and gave a thunderous applause for about 30 seconds. Like a prosecuting counsel, I rested my case. No further questions.

But I have a few questions for this congregation: “Was my friend’s wife correct to suggest that until a man finds this one—not two—lost rib, he remains without the supporting structure? Do you think that this is how our society views marriage? Is this how you view your marriage partner?” The prevailing situation in our culture rather suggests that marriage has become an exercise in mechanical construction. I will explain what I mean by mechanical construction. I come from a country where auto parts are often scarce. It won’t be surprising to find a Ford Explorer that has a Buick engine, a Mercedes transmission, two Lexus and two Nissan wheel covers. Suppose you lose a wheel cover of your Ford Explorer and getting to the shop the attendant tells you that there are no more Ford wheel covers and suggests that you buy a Buick wheel cover promising to fix it to match. The term they use for it is “construction.” Not only does it not match but there is high probability that you’ll lose it again.

That, in my opinion, is what modern society is making out of marriage—a mechanical construction of irreconcilable parts that are changed as soon as the cracks start appearing, leaving children traumatized by the separation of their mom and dad. The custody battle that ensues is no less fierce than the battle for the control of Fallujah or Bagdad, or the Arab-Israeli conflict.

All around us, we are witnessing a morality that is extremely lax and permissive. The marriage covenant is mocked, broken at will or just cast aside as many simply choose to live together without, they say, “bothering Church or civil authorities.” For many who marry, divorce is a question of ‘when,’ not if. The permanence and indissolubility of marriage are matters for the books and no more a reality. Business contracts now last longer than many marriages, as three quarters of all marriages contracted in this country end in divorce. This is true about Catholics, Jews, Protestants, and atheists. I’m sure I have offended nearly everyone, but I’m not done yet. The failure of marriage as an institution was made evident when gay unions were approved as marriages. The approval of Sodomy by the US Supreme Court supports the view that the marriage covenant has collapsed. Folks, we have to find another name for this union!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, September 29, 2024

Sat, 28 Sep 2024 13:06:00 GMT

My friend had a huge Pitbull named “Sharp” that has bitten a dozen people. One day, I had a message for him that took me to his house. As I approached, Sharp started growling. He opened the door and said, “Come in, Father, don’t be afraid of Sharp. You know the old proverb which says that ‘a barking dog never bites.’” My reply was, “You and I know the proverb, but does your dog know it?” Before we can agree on whether or not Sharp would bite me, we must make sure his dog is party to the agreement. In the same vein, before we start legislating where and when or to whom and through whom God can or cannot act, we have to be sure God is part of our agreement and shares in our prejudice.

Today’s readings continue the theme of envy and jealousy but adds a lesson on tolerance and prejudice. You find there the “us” and “them” attitude that people employ when they revise their little prejudices and build walls of separation from others. No one is immune from prejudice—apostle, priest, prophet, teacher, leader, follower, black, green and white. Has it occurred to you that often north and south, east and west has nothing to do with the direction of the sun but is rather the language of class divisions? Similarly, the colors we attach to people have little to do with actual skin color, rather are emblematic of racial divide. Is the white man really white in color? Or the black? We may thicken the lines in the map as much as we want, yet they will never exist. God made one world with no line-divisions. Stop the prejudice!

Like Joshua in the first reading, John was concerned that God’s gifts and power went to people who were not “part of us” (Mark 9:37). Joshua begged Moses to stop Eldad and Medad from prophesying because they were not in the tent where God had visited with His Spirit (Numbers 11:28). Religious intolerance is an age-old disease. Recently, the Church started to revise some language that could be perceived as “prejudice” in her teachings. For example, the designation “church” in the Church’s doctrine “outside the church there is no salvation” now applies to the actual meaning of the term “cahal” (the people of God), that can be found in other Christian denominations, and even to some degree, other religions, even if in an imperfect manner.

Both Jesus and Moses teach us today that God can work outside of our familiar religious structures. This does not imply that structures are unnecessary or unimportant, rather that we should work in genuine humility to make our own religious structure as open as possible to the saving power of God. We must avoid the selfish tendency to exclude others because we think we are more important or own one segment or other of God or His Church.

Similarly, we must be skeptical of those who claim there is only one way to worship God. Some Charismatics can accept only their emotion-laden approach and the traditionalists tout the Tridentine Mass as the only valid form. Years ago, when I was the rector of Holy Family Cathedral, I learned that some individuals left the parish because they were offended that the Bishop, according to them, “backs” them when he celebrates Mass. The “Ad Orientem” position of worship was outrageous to them. These individuals— blindly intolerant—shut their minds to anything that doesn’t appeal to their senses, even if God demands it. Some Catholics go around like delicate souls waiting to be offended. A word by another parishioner, a homily they think is directed at them finds them looking for a parish where they will hear the “Gospel of Nice.” We should reject that false irenicism which conjures an illusory peace, placing God’s will for man’s salvation second to feeding the human appetite for approval. We ought—each of us—to be mature and sufficiently robust enough to deal with the hurly-burley of everyday life. Our faith is catholic, not catalyst.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, September 22, 2024

Fri, 20 Sep 2024 22:11:00 GMT

The ranting of the godless, which the Book of Wisdom decries suggest the attitude of the world against believers in Christ. By now, Christians living in contemporary society must have grown used to these tirades of the impious who cry wolf about hate, intolerance and discrimination but do not mind using every discriminatory tactic to further their radical agenda. The gradual awakening unfolding before us is that enmity of the world is the lot of everyone closely associated with Christ. Jesus forewarned His disciples in John 15:19, “If you belonged to the world, then the world would love you as its own. But because I chose you from this world, and you do not belong to it, that is why the world hates you.”

You have certainly heard the charge from some media groups and their pundits that our ideas do not square (well) with modern society and that we should adapt to the values (or lack of values) of present-day society. Both we and our adversaries are confronted with the question: Can Christianity absorb the errors of this age without losing the Christ-principle within it? It will amount to nothing less than a frivolity to avail of, to ascend to, to adapt to the deviant mores that have necessarily produced the current crisis in society. Worldliness and godlessness are twin sisters; and their primary enemy is the Christian-spirit. The only option for Christianity confronted by the deadweight of modernity is to consistently and deliberately swim countercurrent, since “to marry the spirit of this age would leave us as widows in the next.” So-called Christian groups that have attempted to bargain with worldliness have found themselves emptied and de-Christianized. Mediocrity has become the penalty for their loss of conviction.

The world allows only the mediocre to live. It hates the very wicked and the very good. It hates the very wicked, like serial-murderers, because they disturb its possessions and security. It hates the very good, like our Blessed Lord and His teachings, because He disturbs its conscience (Sheen). The Book of Wisdom 2:12 notes why the world hates virtue and people who pursue virtuous living: “He annoys us and opposes our way of life, reproaches us for breaches of the law, and makes known to us the sins of our way of life.” Consequently, social engineers think that by redefining a sin it would no longer sound offensive and deplorable. Hence, by means of accompanying slogans, moral evils are sugarcoated to sound like they are desirable good: so when you hear words like privacy, individual rights, equality, gentlemen’s club, alternate lifestyle, etc., they no longer sound like moral evils. Because they are polished words of propaganda, they can actually be employed not just to advance the causes in question but even to vilify the non-consenting as well as anyone who questions the falsehood inherent. Sadly, such triumph of radicalism has become entrenched as a dictatorship of relativism— an expression coined by the legendry Pope Benedict XVI. Mechanized opinion, imitation of cheap celebrities, dependence on ‘they say’ or ‘they’re wearing’ for guidance has dwarfed the senses and numbed the intellect.

In this age of sophistication and arrogance, our Lord teaches us today the value of littleness and humility. To the apostles arguing about who was the greatest, He presented a little child. He clearly tells them that in order to see anything big, one must be physically little. That is why, to every little child, according to Fulton Sheen, his dad is the biggest man in the world. As he ceases to be little, the world shrinks in size. Anyone who magnifies the ego to infinity cannot learn anything because there’s nothing greater than the infinite. And anyone who thinks that she knows everything, not even God can teach her. God’s lesson on humility and littleness was to become a little baby in order to serve and save His creatures. Even modern theorists and research consistently show and agree that true greatness comes through service of others.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, September 15, 2024

Thu, 12 Sep 2024 21:52:00 GMT

If Jesus would ask me who people say He was, I have an answer for Him from a former parishioner. After Mass one Sunday morning, I was stepping out of the Church, and behold, a parishioner looking really angry was already outside waiting for me. I mustered courage to extend my hand for a handshake but that wasn’t what I got. This guy went on a tirade. He started: “I totally disagree with you on everything you said today. Listen, I’m a liberal, and I’m proud to be a liberal because Jesus is a liberal.” I smiled and thanked him for letting me know that. So, we can add “liberal” among the designations given to Jesus by our neighbors. If He asks me, though, who I say He is, I certainly will not tell Him He is a liberal. Rather, I will tell Him that “He is a liberator,” by which I mean, “a savior” or even Christ. But a liberal? No way! At least, not in the sense that political pundits and social engineers of today use the term.

Nor would I tell Him that “He is a conservative;” because He isn’t. Again, not in the sense that our politicians use the term. Liberal, conservative, socialist, democrat, independent, republican, communist, libertarian– Jesus is not any of these. He is the Christ. The attempt by politicians to hoodwink, pocket, manipulate and sandwich the name of Jesus into their campaign slogans is clearly a sin against the 2nd Commandment, which forbids taking God’s name in vain. Some are reportedly giving away bibles. As their political toy, liberals invoke Jesus’ name to support their positions on human rights, except the rights of the most vulnerable, like the unborn and the old. Conservative politicians invoke Him to buy votes from the so-called value-voters but discard His message of compassion to the sinner and the segment of the human family that they have intentionally or unintentionally marked as outcasts.

To all of them Jesus says today: “Get behind me, Satan! The way you think isn’t God’s ways, but men’s.” Those who call on Jesus without renouncing themselves, their greed, selfishness, hard-heartedness, unbridled search for pleasure and gratification of the senses, are like the person that St. James says in the second reading, has faith without any good deeds to show for it. Such faith, St. James says, is quite dead. On the contrary, the one who calls on Jesus and yields his or her life to Jesus, understanding that good deeds, sacrifice, service, love and even rejection by the world are ingredients of the Kingdom, will triumph with Jesus in the resurrection.

The great 20th century preacher, Fulton Sheen, penned down some lines for us on how to recognize the presence of Christ amid the shining deceptions of deviltry: “When Satan sits enthroned at the end of time, as the book of Revelation 2:13 noted, our Lord said that he will appear so much like Him that if it were possible, even the elect would be deceived. But if Satan works miracles, if he lays his hands gently on children, if he appears benign and a lover of the poor, how will we know him from Christ? Satan will have no scars on his hands, feet or side. He will appear as a priest but not as a victim.” Yes, Satan will appear like a liberal, but not a Liberator or a Savior.

Each of us is called to give a personal answer to Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am?” Do you honestly know Him as God? Is He truly your savior who died for you? Have you chosen Him above the obstinacy of the self, the senses and their desires? Does He rule your life or are you ruled by the loud, ‘devil-may-care’ majority opinion of the society? Do you see Jesus in your neighbor; feel Him as part of your life; hear Him in the inspired words of scripture; know and sense His presence in the Eucharist that you receive today? Is it possible for you to relax with Jesus for half an hour as with your closest friend, enjoying His companionship and intimacy? Who is Jesus to you?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, September 8, 2024

Sat, 07 Sep 2024 10:18:00 GMT

Patrick was a remarkable itinerant preacher who lived in my hometown, Uli. Though blind and illiterate, Patrick surmounted his disability by memorizing large portions of the Bible and employed accurate scripture references to garnish his sermons. As a member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, he went from house to house, led by his little boy, to preach. He would usually pretend that he could read by flipping the pages of scripture as he invited listeners to hear what God says in his favorite scripture passage of John 3:16. I remember my aunt telling Patrick, on one occasion: “You see Pat, you’re holding the Bible upside down, and you’re in fact looking at Exodus, not John.” Patrick’s answer to her was, “I was blind but now I see,” in testimony to his belief that, in Christ, seeing and hearing are not limited to the physical senses of sight and sound.

Hence, today’s gospel has important lessons more profound than the mere physical opening of eyes or ears or tongue. “Ephphatha”—“Be Opened” reveals to us God’s amazing power to open, free, and transform our lives. Before healing the deaf man, Jesus took him far from the frantic crowd. He wants us also away from the stuff with which we have crowded our lives—TV, loud music, videogame, unholy hours on the phone discussing and gossiping about other people, hours upon hours texting, twitting and Facebooking, and ‘Satan-anointed hours’ on the internet viewing indecent materials. We need to distance ourselves at times from the masses and the mass-media because healing encounters with Jesus happen in the intimacy of our hearts and within the Christian community. The other actions of Jesus—putting his finger into the man’s ears, spitting, touching his tongue, looking up to heaven and sighing are all liturgical formulas invoked in the sacraments of the Church, especially Baptism and Anointing.

Ephphatha—Be opened tells what needs to be taking place in our heart, soul and mind. Do you wonder what you have closed yourself from; what needs to be opened in your life? Imagine if our minds were open in such a way that all our biases and prejudices melted away. Imagine if our eyes could be opened to see God’s goodness in the creatures he has made and in every human person. Imagine if we were truly open to new ideas realizing that our ways of looking at things are not always right and that we can learn something from just about everyone. Imagine if we could be freed from our fears, enabling us to step into the unknown and experience life to its fullest. It was intriguing for me when I read from a scripture scholar that the expression “Do not be afraid” appears 365 times in the Bible, meaning that each day we can open our ears and hearts and hear God telling us not to be afraid.

To become intentional Catholics we must not be afraid to stand up for our faith and openly profess what we believe. We probably have seen many times in our relationship with family, friends and coworkers that when we talk about God we are made to feel as if we had said something wrong. We feel as if we have wronged somebody and may need to apologize. And we ask: “What did I say to make these people react this way, to anger them or make them attack me?” We are becoming increasingly conscious of the fact that we live side by side people who want to remain deaf to the sound of God’s name and who have their backs turned to God. Throughout our history, Christians have been looked down on, contradicted and persecuted for proclaiming their faith. Our age is not different. As opposition to Christ grows, Christians should match it with their love for one another and even for their oppressors. St. James admonishes us to treat each other with respect and true love: no favoritism, no discrimination, no bitter words even to those who hate us. At Calvary, love won against favoritism, discrimination and opposition to God. Love always wins!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, September 1, 2024

Sat, 31 Aug 2024 10:44:00 GMT

The Jews received the 10 commandments from God, but over the years the scribes and Pharisees amplified the laws to include 613 precepts and by-laws. One wonders what became of Moses’ warning in today’s first reading (Deut. 4:2) against adding or taking anything out of God’s law. Observing the strict letters of the law would, according to Moses, demonstrate to others, the wisdom and understanding of God’s own people. On this law lies their greatness as a wise people.

Yet, the law can often become torturous when instead of observing its spirit, people drift from it and become clogged in legal interpretations. One cannot fail to be amazed at the extent to which the scribes and Pharisees amplified the law to accommodate their “tradition of the elders.” For example, it is understandable that for reasons of hygiene people should wash their hands before meals. However, it is difficult to understand why the washing should extend to the elbow, or why upon returning from the marketplace, people are not expected to eat without first sprinkling themselves. How burdensome tradition was, could best be understood in terms of a farmer constantly coming in contact with unclean insects and being under the constraint to wash all the time.

Given all these requirements of tradition, one can’t fail to see why Jesus expressed impatience with the scribes and Pharisees, calling them hypocrites who put aside the commandments of God to cling to human traditions. The same impatience can often be expressed with regard to the way some people choose on their own to interpret God’s laws or the precepts of the Church. For example, a penitent confesses eating meat on Ash Wednesday because while flossing, she removed a small piece she ate on Fat Tuesday, or the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ reading of Revelation 7:4 to imply only 144,000 people in heaven.

Of all nations on earth, America prides itself as a nation of laws, and indeed, we are, primarily because the rule of law is not present globally. There are many lawless places on earth where people do not and cannot have confidence in the structures of justice that are in place; where justice would have to be bought or bribed away. Yet, how laws can be misinterpreted and often changed to fit the desires of men can also be seen in some of our laws when you consider that our constitution has also become caught up and clogged in the wheels of interpretation by the scribes and Pharisees of our time, namely—activist lawyers, judges, politicians and professors. Today, urged on by the crafty schemes of some trial lawyers, you can sue for virtually anything and have the chance to win. We have been shocked to witness in our time the law of privacy upending natural law as seen in the legalization of abortion and same-sex marriage. A few years ago, a brazen legal twist in our nation’s laws occurred during the trial of Scott Peterson who was convicted of killing his wife and unborn baby. While the legal arguments around Roe vs Wade established that a child in the womb was not a human person, in Peterson’s case, the child suddenly became a human person. Yet, lawyers and judges, bereft of morality, knowingly continue to twist, snap, spin and transverse the natural law in order to keep abortion legal.

Jesus tells us to disregard these twists and follow our formed consciences in order to live pure, unspoiled lives. Pure religion, according to St. James in the second reading involves coming to the help of the needy and keeping oneself uncontaminated by the world. Jesus lists for us the things that can make us unclean—fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, malice, deceit, indecency, envy, slander, pride, folly. Do you find any of them in your life? Then you are certainly unclean and will need the spiritual cleansing and trash-removal of sacramental confession.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 21th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, August 25, 2024

Fri, 23 Aug 2024 18:59:00 GMT

Twenty seven years ago, together with 10 other young men, I stood before a congregation numbering about 15,000 and made a commitment. I decided that Jesus would be the only one I follow. No turning back. As a consequence, I was admitted into the ministerial priesthood of Christ—a mystery, a labyrinth, a bottomless ocean, a never-ending story, yet a great joy because I sided with the One who has the message of Eternal Life.

And so, today, we come to the conclusion of our five-week discussion of John 6 with an exposé of Mass as the Ultimate Mystery of Faith . At the peak of Mass, the priest interrupts the Eucharistic Prayer with this invitation: “The Mystery of Faith.” There and then a line is drawn in the sand for us to either cross over or depart. Joshua drew that line when he asked the Israelites: “Decide today whom you will serve,” (Joshua 24:15). Jesus draws the line as we heard him today ask the apostles, “Do you also want to go away?” (John 6:68).

There comes a time when mystery can no longer be explained, when faith demands nothing but a leap into the unknown. Jesus has said the final word about the Eucharist: “Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood, you will not have life in you.” Period! No more clarifications. That is the truth and all it demands is ascent to it. The people balk and many walk away. One would expect that Jesus would call them back to clarify the teaching or soften it. Something like: “Come back, I didn’t really mean it that way. You guys are taking me too seriously. Don’t you understand that I was merely speaking in metaphors about a nice friendly candlelight dinner, where we share intimacy and old jokes?” No! Jesus is drawing a line in the sand, inviting us to cross over or depart. And the choice is dramatic and total. There’re no more rooms for waffling, for picking and choosing. He closes the cafeteria of belief finally.

Sincere Protestants after reading this conclusion of John 6 usually find their Protestant faith deeply troubling. Many have followed Peter and crossed over to the Catholic Church. Scott Hahn had a dynamic, high-power congregation which he left even while his wife Kimberly remained staunchly Protestant. The move deeply impacted their relationship at first. But Scott had crossed the line, for one reason: to receive the Eucharist, the true Bread of Life. Everything else seemed to him like small potatoes, in comparison. We have many parishioners here who did the same. Many more Protestants are crossing the line too, daily.

Among us Catholics, there remain those who would love to pick and choose what dogma to believe and what area of morality to practice or ignore. Many believe in the Eucharist, but quite a few do not think that it’s really important to be in the ‘state of grace’ before receiving. So, they may miss Mass this Sunday because they are travelling or have a guest, but go ahead and receive the Eucharist next Sunday without the benefit of sacramental confession. Those café-Catholics want to simplify our belief system and our morality to make it less demanding and more in conformity with a largely pagan world. You hear them say: “I’m a good Catholic, but I don’t believe marriage is necessarily between a man and a woman.” They have reservations about the necessity to marry sacramentally before living together or that contraception and abortion are evil. All of this is hard, they say, can’t we tone down the faith and all these moral demands? These are similar to the agitations of the crowd who left Jesus, forgetting they were fed by Him a while ago, as He invited them to share in His life. Jesus turns to us as He did to the twelve asking: “Do you also want to leave?” Peter answers for us: “Lord, to whom shall we go, you have the words of everlasting life?” Truth is not about numbers, surveys or opinion polls. Truth is Jesus. Jesus closed the cafeteria years ago, we can’t afford to open it back up.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, August 18, 2024

Fri, 16 Aug 2024 17:34:00 GMT

Have you ever been to heaven….? Perhaps my question sounds awkward; so, let me reframe it. Do you wish to know what heaven is like? Do you wish to experience it or know what happens there? You no longer need to do too much or even die. You just need to prepare and go to Mass. You will meet heaven...or you’re already there (here), right now.

An ancient Entrance Hymn for Mass taken from Isaiah and the Book of Revelation captures it: “Let us now go up to the mountain of the Lord, the city of the Living God and to the Heavenly Jerusalem. Citizens of heaven, children of the house of the Lord; we are going to the Father, in the Son, through the Spirit.” There—or rather here—in heaven, “Wisdom has built herself a house (Church), erected her seven pillars (7 Sacraments), slaughtered her beasts (host), prepared her wine (Eucharistic blood), dispatched her maidservants (priests), and proclaims from the city heights (altar): ‘Come and eat of my Bread, and drink of my Wine; come to the feast I prepared for you’” (Proverbs 9:6).

Today, we arrive at the climax of John 6 and the Bread of Life discourse, with this declaration that forms the theme of today’s discussion: Mass is heaven on earth . Here in heaven, we receive the Living Word of God and the Living Bread. And Jesus tells us, “Whoever eats this bread shall live forever” (John 6:59). We do not expect to live forever here on earth. Hence, because we eat this Living Bread at Mass, it follows that Mass is heaven. Ladies and gentlemen, angels and spirits, we make this declaration today: “This is heaven...Mass is heaven (on earth). Right now, in this place, we’re in heaven—Not quite in its fullest, but rather veiled glory, and we implore the Holy Spirit to open our eyes to see.”

That Mass is heaven on earth isn’t an idea I spontaneously formulated. The Second Vatican Council teaches in the Constitution on Sacred Liturgy, which I’ll quote extensively that, “In the earthly liturgy we share in the foretaste of that heavenly liturgy, which is celebrated in the Holy City of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God, Minister of the Sanctuary and of the true tabernacle. With all the warriors of the heavenly army we sing a hymn of glory to the Lord; venerating the memory of the saints, we hope for some part and fellowship with them: we eagerly await the Savior, Our Lord Jesus Christ, until He, our life, shall appear and we too will appear with Him in glory” (SC #8). Right here is heaven, right here is Mass.

Jesus made two vital statements that began with the preposition “unless.” In John 3:3, He told Nichodemus, “Unless you are born again of water and the Spirit you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.” You often hear your Protestant friends say that. Yet, there is a similar statement by Jesus that several of them get very worried about. In John 6:53, Jesus told those angry and frantic about His statement that they would need to eat His body: “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you will not have life in you.” G.K. Chesterton read that and converted to Catholicism. John Henry Newman read it and converted. Marcus Grodi and Scott Hahn confessed becoming extremely worried about their Protestant faith after reading John 6 and are now sharing that with others through EWTN. About 95% of Protestants who converted to Catholicism did so after a lengthy struggle with the emphatic words of Jesus: “Unless you eat…” They eventually wanted to become part of Mass—of the heavenly liturgy.

I worry that some Catholics do not appreciate Mass. Hence, they treat it as a distraction to their weekend activities. They don’t think they’d need to prepare for it, as they do for a wedding by dressing appropriately, putting up their best behavior, and enjoying this visit. Next time you’re getting ready for Mass, think of it as your preparation for heaven, and do appear as such.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, August 11, 2024

Sat, 10 Aug 2024 09:53:00 GMT

If you’re familiar with Dante’s classic literature or poem, the “Divine Comedy,” you’ll remember Gaddo . In what might be considered the most beautiful cantos of the Divine Comedy , Dante with his great imaginative sense created this character called Gaddo . For no fault of his, Gaddo had been imprisoned with his father and both were condemned to die of starvation. After enduring hunger for several days, Gaddo spontaneously turns to his father and offers himself as food, saying: “You gave me this miserable flesh, now take and eat it!”

Gaddo’s offering of his flesh was a creation of Dante’s imagination; Christ’s offering of His body as we read today is no imagination but something real. Pew research says that close to two-thirds of American Catholics do not think so; hence, that they do not believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. But I think they mean any of the other groups of Neo-Catholics: like the “ lilies and poinsettias Catholics , the ashes and palms Catholics , the cafeteria, politically correct, and new age-Catholics.” From the day I arrived at St. John’s, I’ve been working hard to close the cafeteria, so intentional Catholics might have room to express their faith. Go tell others— the cafeteria is now closed .

Today’s Gospel is the third in a series of five, from John 6. Today, I’ll like to focus on the Eucharist as VIA-TI-CUM (with-you-on the way/journey). Viaticum presents the Eucharist as food for the journey—spiritual food to feed our soul as we make our way in this life. We feed our bodies with sandwich and potato-salad, our minds with knowledge, and our souls with the Eucharist as we make our way to heaven. Today’s culture has created an imbalance in their feeding habits of some: by overfeeding the body, underfeeding the mind, and starving the soul. When translated into real life, we see the resultant effect of overfeeding the body in rate of obesity prevalent; we find brain-drain as the result of underfeeding the mind; and lack of spirituality as the resultant effect of the starvation of the soul. To heal this nutritional imbalance, Jesus offers His Body and Blood—like Gaddo to his father—as food for a starving world; not because it lacks material food, but because it is starved of God, of spirituality, of love, of true friendship, of trust and confidence, of mercy and forgiveness.

The first reading today speaks about Elijah who lost hope, became tired and weary, ready to give up the fight. An angel brought him food to strengthen him so he might continue his journey. God’s angel gives us the Eucharist today and everyday to strengthen us, not because we lack energy—we have nuclear energy, military might, and economic power—rather, because we often lack the strength to love, to persevere in love, to forgive, to stand up for the truth, to stand our ground in witnessing to Christ, to pray and remain in prayer.

I want to call our attention to what happened to Elijah right at the middle of the story—something that might be important for us to consider. Elijah was woken by the angel and given food and water. He ate and then goes right back to sleep. Then the angel wakes him a second time giving him food. Elijah ate this second time and sprang up to continue his journey. What happened this second time? His attitude changed; he had a change of heart, a crack in his armor, which allowed God to work in him. Sometimes we approach the Eucharist with the mindset of the tired and worn-out Elijah, full of the things that shield us from God’s transforming love —the bitterness, anger, grudges and spitefulness which Paul addresses in the second reading. We erect walls, create barriers and hang on to so much worthless junk making it nearly impossible for God to penetrate, empower and motivate us to move on in our journey through life. It’s as if God is tapping us on the shoulder again today presenting the nourishment of the Eucharist. Would you wake up to continue your journey to heaven?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, August 4, 2024

Sat, 03 Aug 2024 09:35:00 GMT

Our five week reflection on the Gospel of John 6 brings us today to verses 24 through 35. (Remember your promise to read the entire chapter of John 6). The crowd fed by Jesus are everywhere looking for Him. What for? They want more bread and they have found a baker for that. The “sheeple” always depend on others for their thinking and to fill their stomach. And their wants, like all human wants, are insatiable.

Recall that last week, Jesus had to steal Himself away as they wanted to forcibly make Him a ( bread) king . This would not be the first time He evaded the temptation to become a Baker instead of a Savior ; to fill outer abundance while leaving inner nakedness (Fulton Sheen). The devil was the first to tempt Him into being a Baker ; but this time, he disguises himself as a hungry crowd. In the same manner, the false god of materialism seduces our society with promises of bodily satisfaction while turning many into spiritual derelicts. Jesus knows the intention of this crowd. They have eaten free bread and fish and want more. Period! No concern about His compassion and the message of true life in Him. Hence, today we’ll reflect on the Eucharist as “food for our soul.”

While visiting sick people years ago at St. John’s Hospital Sapulpa, I met a man who told me he was a Sacred Heart parishioner. In a parish of 130 families, I pretty well knew every parishioner and was certain that I had not seen a face like his. When I told him so, his response was: “Well...I don’t really go to your services, but to your fish fries.” Confused, I explained that we did not have fish fries, to which he retorted: “You don’t do that anymore?” I later learned from older parishioners of Sacred Heart that in the 60’s and 70’s they did organize Fish Fridays at the old Sacred Heart Church, in downtown Sapulpa. Hence, the gentleman was a fish-fries-member of the Church , not a member of the Eucharistic assembly. I have heard some argue that in order to bring back straying Catholics who go to the TV-churches, we need to introduce a rock-band type of Mass. My answer is that once you introduce the rock band Mass, you should have handy things that go with rock music—like flashing lights, weed and synthetic drugs, dancing queens, and the like. We saw from the gospel that one miracle is usually not enough for the crowd who seek it.

It boils down to the question of identity. What makes one a member of the Church? Deeper than this; what makes one a Christian, a Catholic? Does baptism do it? Theologically “yes,” but not necessarily so, “existentially.” Some of the proud atheist and Satanists in our country were baptized and may have attended Catholic schools. How about attendance at Mass? Maybe, but not absolutely! There are many active members who are unable to attend due to sickness or age or both. The “fragments left over” which we reflected on last week are taken to them so they may share fully in the Eucharistic assembly and receive food for their soul. On the opposite side of the spectrum, there are some who attend Mass but do not live a Christian life—not only outside this building, but even within. You find them among politicians who proudly profess to be Catholic, but “respectfully disagree” with Christian morality, the mean-spirited who gossip and spread gossip to destroy others, who hate and spread hatred, who cheat, who back-bite continually and firmly intend to keep living that way. They, like the crowd seeking Jesus today, are hungry for more bread, more gossip, more innuendos to spread, and not food for their soul.

St. Paul exhorts us today not to share in the same empty way of thinking and living peculiar to the pagans. They, according to Ephesians 4:18f, are darkened in their understanding, alienated from God because of their ignorance and hardness of heart. Christians are called to clothe ourselves with the new self, made in the likeness of God, in righteousness and holiness.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, July 28, 2024

Fri, 26 Jul 2024 16:17:00 GMT

Mark’s Gospel is much shorter than the other synoptic gospels. Hence, from this Sunday, the Church fills the space by introducing a five-week discussion on the Eucharist, our Bread of Life, taken from the sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel. I strongly recommend that everyone read this passage. Spend about 15 minutes of your TV time and read the entire chapter. It would be best if each family reads it together and share some thoughts on the words of the passage and how they speak directly to us.

Here’s a summary: Jesus feeds about 12,000 people with five loaves and two fish. The people are amazed and wanted to forcefully make him a king. He eludes them and goes back to the hill. Later that evening, he calms the sea and rejoins his disciples. The next day, the people are searching for him. They want more bread. He tells them that He was the Bread of Life, and that they really would need to eat him in order to have life. That sounded intolerable to them. They get upset and decide to stop following him; everyone except the Twelve. Peter later reassures him that they have no one else to go to except he who was the Holy One of God.

The stage for the action of Jesus today was already set in the Old Testament reading we heard today from 2 Kings 4:42-44, where the prophet Elisha accepts a few loaves of bread from a foreigner (a pagan) and gives the people to eat. Miraculously, the small amount of bread is shared among a hundred men who all had their fill and had some left over, as the Lord decreed. Here we see a clear and very early foreshadowing of the Eucharist.

The aspect of the Eucharist that I would love to reflect on today is the “left over.” There was need to feed 5000 men. We know the many needs of our world, our families and ourselves. God does not jump in or intrude into our lives to solve all of them. He wants us to bring what we have, no matter how small. The “Philp” in us sees an impossibility —“Two hundred denarii ($2000) would buy only enough to give them a small piece each” (Jn 6:8). The “Andrew” in us sees something, but it’s very little; however, enough for a start. Andrew clearly recalls the miracle at Cana. Faith does not imply we fold our hands. Expectant faith spurs us on to make our best contribution without which there would be no miracle. A miracle is not God working for us, rather God working with us. All God needs from us is to bring the little we have—our poverty, our inadequacy. Start somewhere. That was the way of Mother Teresa. She focused on one needy child at a time and soon she was feeding 2000 needy children. Light a candle instead of curse the darkness. Sponsor a child in Haiti, give to the Missions, do some volunteer work. Do not complain you don’t have enough. You will never have enough. Though the economy is presumed to be bad, I read somewhere that American men spent $29 billion dollars last year to view naked women on the internet and strip clubs. American women spent $48 billion to fix finger and toe nails, to procure lipsticks and other make-ups. About the same amount was spent on ear, nose, and tongue piercings as well as tattoos and age-defying creams. (Mind you—I’m never against beautifying the body).

We do have more than enough to feed the hungry of the world, if only we can control our excesses and stop wasting money on not so useful endeavors. Jesus asked his disciples to gather the fragments left over, not only to show that the earth’s resources should not be wasted, but also to show that the poor and the weak are to be provided for. The Eucharist bears ample evidence to this. We gather what is left from Mass and place them in the tabernacle to be used later to feed the sick and the needy of God’s people. The remaining host does not stop being Jesus (as Protestants think). The fragments left over is Jesus ever-present to us from whom we draw life, hope and sustenance for our world.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, July 21, 2024

Sat, 20 Jul 2024 08:45:00 GMT

Even our Lord agrees with Aristotle that “leisure liberates man from the oppression of the useful.” And so, today he invites his apostles who were basking with novice fervor after their return from their first missionary expedition to “come away to some lonely place and rest for a while” (Mk 6: 31). This evangelical imperative is exercised through the practice of days off, retreats and sabbaticals. We need to recharge, regroup, and reposition in order to refill used energy, as well as our mental and spiritual constructions. How wisely the first chapter of Genesis made a command of the Sabbath day rest. We know how sluggish we feel after a sleepless or restless night and how our bodies get back at us. American tourists to Rome are often shoked and sometimes frustrated that Romans take siesta daily between 2 and 4 pm. Some of us judge them as lazy and unbusiness-like, but the Romans would quip: “Lavoriamo per vivere, non vivere per lavorare” (we work to live, not live to work). Fueled sometimes by greed, we often become slaves to work. The industrial complexes have sucked the humanity from us, making us into automatons.

The exercise of pastoral oversight is, however, an exception. Hence, rest shouldn’t excuse a pastor from his duty. Legitimate leisure and days off for pastors shouldn’t create a “Father-tarmac” who spends every Monday on wheels and takes seven vacations a year. Nor should lawful recreation produce a “Father-can” who can’t keep his elbow straight. The oracle of God pronounced by Jeremiah condemns self-serving shepherds who have allowed the flock of God to scatter. God calls shepherds (pastors) to be servants, teachers and rulers of his people. These three ministries are enshrined in the priestly life for the purpose of sanctifying God’s people (Presbyterorum Ordinis, 4-6). God himself is the Eternal Shepherd from whom, through whom, and in whom these ministries take their origin, are exercised, and find their fulfilment.

Hence, in today’s Responsorial Psalm, we sang of the virtues of the Good Shepherd, to be emulated by other shepherds. First among these virtues is trust in the shepherd. Thus the Psalmist expresses: “With God as my Shepherd, I shall not want.” I would like you to know that: With Fr. Jo as your parish priest you shall not want for sound teaching, moral guidance, and strong spiritual support. Your children and grandchildren should be able to say so about you, too.

The shepherd-priest must always look ahead to find fresh and green pastures of truth to feed his flock when the terrain becomes infested as it is today with rotten and dry pasturage of error and decay. He should know and lead the way to restful waters of rebirth and reconciliation to revive the flocks’ drooping spirit. Hence, with right and informed judgment the pastor should be able to guide the flock of God today along the right path. He must know the truth and be courageous enough to tell his flock the truth, whether they bear or forebear, whether it makes them comfortable or not. Here is how Fr. Jaki puts it: “The words of a true shepherd do not bubble up through honey. He is not an ecclesiastical butler serving at the table of expediency, neither is he a currier or popularity.” Many hills and valleys of darkness exist today that would tire the sheep or cause them to wander. The pastor must apply, when necessary, the crook and staff to save the sheep from falling into the puddle and gently lead straying ones back. He is to prepare a banquet of rich spiritual food because the ignorance of the average Church member has become pathetic. He knows little about the faith by which he is supposed to live and hope to die. For, how can the goodness and kindness of the Lord follow them when they have not learned to walk in his ways? And how can they dwell in the house of the Lord forever when they are rather firmly attached to the havens they have erected for themselves in this passing world?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, July 14, 2024

Fri, 12 Jul 2024 19:03:00 GMT

How often have you over-packed for a trip—taking much more than you actually needed—only to return with many unused stuff? Some people cannot part with the pleasures of life for a second. A dear friend recently traded-in their Motor-home for a fully air-conditioned one with built-in dishwasher, stereo, two 65-inch color TVs, two queen-size beds, and a Jacuzzi; so whenever they go camping, they’ll have with them all the comforts of home. She argued that she deserves that because she has worked hard to earn the money. In fact, she is entitled to that because she hails from the U.S., which is the greatest and richest nation on earth, with 6% of the world’s population, but consuming 50% of the its resources. I said “Bravo” to her but pointed her to Jesus, the friend of the poor .

In today’s first reading, we heard Amaziah bashing Amos the prophet for prophesying doom instead of “love” and “tolerance” and “equality.” There we find a prototype of contemporary evangelism: what St. John Paul II called “the super-market of religion.” Like Amaziah, modern evangelists are in the business of manipulation of the Word of God and flattery of their hearers. They contrive, construct and emplace a pseudo-reality of the love of God, and by means of accompanying slogans pulled from isolated verses of the Bible, their sweet tongue and exploitative power, they weaken the ability of their hearers to exercise rational judgment. Often, the aim is that their listeners dig deep into their pockets for tithes and donations that would support the unrestrained comforts of the so-called women and men of God. If it means encouraging worshippers to have no sense of guilt about their sinful lives, they’ll go with it. Often followers are assured that Jesus would always certainly wash their sins away—even if they remained unrepentant and persisted in their evil ways.

This was the prevailing situation in Israel when Amos was called to prophecy to the people whose hearts have turned against God. They have been thoroughly led to false worship and to persist in pagan debauchery by Amaziah and his company of bread-and-butter prophets . Surely, this is the prevailing situation in modern society, especially among the so-called civilized. Many have surrendered their hold upon the real; truth has become a matter of individual opinion; the conscience is dulled, numbed and killed. A new form of paganism has been installed under different names as rights, equality, non-discrimination, alternate life-style, and so on. Christianity has become a minority view and the true practice of the Christian faith has become, for modern society, an intolerant position even punishable by the new laws of the state.

Yet, we are free to rebel against the Divine order, but cannot escape the effects of such rebellion. As Shakespeare said in Macbeth: “Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds to their deaf pillows must discharge their secrets.” Defiance of morality manifests itself in depressions, boredom, suicides, lives wrecked by addiction to drugs, alcohol and pornography, the highest rate of divorce in history, etc. As a broken bone hurts because it is not where it ought to be, so a conscience too, is painful when it’s not where it ought to be—namely, in a right relationship with God” (Sheen).

St. Paul reveals in the second reading that God chose us in Christ to be holy and blameless, and to live in his presence (Eph 1:4). We cannot find true happiness outside God. While sending them out, Jesus warned his disciple to beware of excessive adornments and love of material comfort as these are rather proof of inner nakedness and excess luggage that drowns the ship of evangelism. Truly, the richer a soul is on the inside, the less need it has of luxuries on the outside. When material possession gives way to spiritual possession, there comes a “vacancy” sign on our heart for the Lord to enter and possess.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, July 7, 2024

Sun, 07 Jul 2024 20:57:00 GMT

Familiarity does indeed breed contempt. Frequently, people take others for granted for two reasons: familiarity and pride. You may add a third reason: ignorance, which often wears the garb of “I-know-it-all or I’m better.” Familiarity, pride, ignorance played out well in the first reading and the gospel of today. Relatives of Jesus who thought they knew him well treated him contemptuously, referring to him as a carpenter—the type that only made plows and yokes that any peasant of his day was capable of making. They also called him Mary’s son. Among the Jews, to describe a man as the “son of his mother,” even when the father is deceased is often an insult. The mention of the so-called brothers and sisters of Jesus is a reference to relatives who in other gospels appear to be cousins. For example, James and Joseph were called children of Mary the wife of Cleophas in Matthew 27:56. But leave it to those who, to discredit the doctrine of the Virgin Birth and the Perpetual Virginity of Mary, would maintain that those were also children of Mary, ignoring the fact that the Bible never explicitly stated so. The point of the passage was to show that Jesus and his folks were common people, like regular Joe or Bill. They took offence at Jesus. He was just another one of them, and no more. He didn’t come from a line of rabbis, doctors, and the noble of the society. They took him for granted and lost out. No miracles occurred among them.

The second reason why people take others for granted is pride. Ignorance and foolishness are its daughters. When pride matures, it breeds jealousy, and some complex—either inferiority or superiority complex. What follows is obstinacy and hardness of heart. Their grandchild is rebellion. The prophet Ezekiel was sent to prophecy to a people bedeviled by this sickness. With unrelenting words, he describes the Israelites of his days as “impudent” and “stubborn.” It won’t be wrong to say so about many men, women and children of our day who have chosen to live with their rebellious ideas against all truth.

When familiarity, pride, foolishness, obstinacy and rebellion form alliance, they knock out reason and disparage faith. With reason and faith out of the equation, human life becomes imprisoned in the self and in the candlelight of mediocrity. Consequently, the ego, made in the image and likeness of the spirit of the world in which it lives reigns supreme. Archbishop Fulton Sheen describes the ego as the spoiled child in us—selfish, petulant, clamorous, and spoiled—the creation of our mistakes in living. It hates anything that does not gratify it; so, when we don’t feel fine about a truthful idea that threatens our thwarted conception of reality, we adopt one that’s in line with our feelings; when pleasure ebbs in our spouse, we change marriage beds; when we don’t feel fine about our Church, we change church or faith. Fanned by the ego, life becomes meaningless and monotonous—destroying the purpose of life.

But life is only monotonous if it is meaningless; it is only meaningless if it has no purpose. Those who are full of life and faith love monotony; they love repetition. Put a child in your knee and bounce it up and down two to three times and the child will say, “Do it again.” Because God is full of life, I imagine each morning the Almighty says to the sun: “Do it again,” and every evening to the moon and stars, “Do it again” (Sheen). We would continually ask our heart to “do it again.” If we are full of life and full of love, we won’t grow so familiar with the Mass and Holy Communion that we lose the sense of the life we gain from such a great gift. Religion (our faith, prayer) is a living thing. It is like bread we use every day, not like cake which is used on special occasions . When faith is intentional it permeates our lives and won’t be something we pull out only on Sunday mornings. May God’s life in us warm up our existence and bring excitement to our lives!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, July 7, 2024

Sun, 07 Jul 2024 20:57:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 30, 2024

Sat, 29 Jun 2024 09:42:00 GMT

Sickness, suffering, death—where did they originate? Who brought them? The author of the Book of Wisdom makes the case for God, stating that they are not God’s doing. Jesus Himself, who is the Wisdom of God, would demonstrate this beyond doubt. As proof, He went about curing the sick, lifting up the downtrodden and raising the dead. Two of such wonderful works are reported in today’s gospel reading.

Yet, the question as to who brought sickness remains unanswered. The Book of Wisdom states the answer unmistakably—”it was the devil’s envy.” The sage goes on to argue that God created all things “to be;” for the One whose essence is “to be” cannot beget nothingness. The metaphysical principle “agere sequitur esse” (as a being is, so does it act) suggests that non-being, sickness, suffering and death cannot emanate from God, because He is “ purus actus” (pure act) and His very essence is to be . His nature is to give life, not to destroy it; to give health, not to weaken it; to make things and people prosper, not to destroy them. The author of the Book of Wisdom makes a turn-around to enlighten us about evil. He excoriates the devil and his cohorts as providing the environment in which evil, sickness, suffering and death thrive: “It was the wicked who with hands and words invited death, considered it a friend, pined for it, and made a covenant with it” (Wisdom 1:16).

Evil, therefore, is a deprivation of the good that should be there. This was engineered by the devil who infected humanity with it. Human living becomes a constant struggle with sin, suffering, sickness and death. This, in essence, explains why the Church and our faith in Jesus should mean more to us than an exercise of convenience, because we are always vulnerable to the malice of the evil one. We do not overgrow it nor do we get too sophisticated and civilized to annul its effects. Satan hides behind our so-called civilization to unleash his terror. He hides behind our politics to promote thievery of public property and lies to cover it up; hides behind the Mass-media to promote the propaganda of progressive ideologies, immoral behavior, destruction of marriage and the family, denial of sexual differences put in place by the creator; hides behind our educational systems to promote today’s gravest destabilizing axiom of contemporary education—in the attempt to transmit knowledge without concern for the moral and character formation of the recipient. The devil hides behind the porn industry, the compelling pseudo-reality of commercial advertisements, the flattery of cruelty and eroticism in films and movies, and the pride marches that beguile social and emotional stability.

Jesus invites us to develop a living faith and an attitude of ‘alert wakefulness’ as we search for the one who alone can deliver us from evil, sickness and death. The synagogue official, Jairus, and the woman with the issue of blood manifested this attitude. They received faith healing at its best. Many have been led to believe that all religious healings happen on the center stage of large auditoriums and televisions and through orchestrated shouting marches by expert religious healers. But through the sacraments the Church reaches out to heal us in the power of Christ . Notice in the Gospel how only the woman with the issue of blood knew that she had been cured, and how Jesus put out the crowd before he went in to bless Jairus’ daughter with new life. Unlike the commercial healers of today, he did not seek public applause.

It is not His clothes that we touch today; rather, it is His life that we receive—Jesus himself—body, blood, soul and divinity. If the mere touching of His cloth would effect a miraculous healing, how much more would receiving Him worthily in the Eucharist today rid us of evil habits and the deadweight of sin and disorder. He desires to reverse our curse with His healing blessings.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 30, 2024

Sat, 29 Jun 2024 09:42:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 23, 2024

Fri, 21 Jun 2024 18:28:00 GMT

Whenever we read the story of Job, it brings with it a reminder that it is absolutely beyond our comprehension to fully understand why some people suffer and some (we think or assume) do not. Years ago, I visited a dying parishioner who said she was angry with God (and me) because God gave her a lot of pain, and I hadn’t prayed enough for God to take them away. I really felt guilty that perhaps I’d neglected to pray as much as I should for this parishioner. She recounted how she’d spent her life doing good, how much time and money she’d invested in the Church, how she’d stood firm raising her children who wouldn’t any longer care to visit her [I wondered whether that was my fault, too], her attendance to Mass and the sacraments, her volunteer work with Meals on Wheels for 35 years, with Catholic Charities , St. Francis and St John’s hospitals, and on, and on. I felt cornered but yet told her that I didn’t know the answer to why she suffered. Thinking I could lighten the mood, I asked if she knew someone called Jesus, to which she angrily retorted, “What kind of question is that?” Woo! I retraced! Next, I pointed to the crucifix on the wall of her room and asked her to give me one reason the guy should be hanging there, suspended between heaven and earth, in terrible anguish, with bruises and wounds. That question was my winning question. The cross is always a winner; it can win for you, too!

So, when anyone would ask “Why me?” “Where have I gone wrong?” “Why all the suffering?” The answer is the crucifix. If a righteous one should suffer so much for other people’s transgressions, who am I to complain about my own sufferings that I probably deserve, given the sin in my life. Do you presume yourself innocent? Then you haven’t made a proper examination of conscience. I suggest that you bend in penitential discipline and ask for mercy.

The Bible tells us not to envy the proud and the godless who appear to be enjoying health and prosperity. Someday, if human justice doesn’t catch up with them, divine justice must. You saw how years ago, some executives of Enron were led away to prison. You sure remember Madoff, Spitzer, Jeff Greenstein. Where are the riches they hoarded while they defrauded thousands of people and eroded people’s hopes in their retirement savings?

Storms, waves and sufferings in life are meant to balance and keep us strong, but especially not to trust in this world—for “the world and its desires pass away” (IJn 2: 17). All over the world, the Germans are believed to be strong. It’s believed that they build stronger cars, roads and houses, probably because of their experiences as a people and nation. Israelis, too, are believed to have the strongest and most sophisticated security network because they live side by side enemies who constantly threaten to wipe them out. America is strong because of the sacrifices of its gallant citizens. The Catholic Church is strong because of the fierce persecutions she has suffered and continues to suffer through history from all sides. The individual Christian—you and I—also have had our share of trials and sufferings. In all these, it often seems the Lord is “asleep” and shows no concern. But we find that the Church is still afloat in spite of the storms and sufferings because the Lord is in the boat and has promised to remain with us till the end (Mtt 28:20).

Every follower of Jesus should expect many occasions to launch over troubled waters. While a fair weather Christian will dally, a courageous disciple grows through storms of ridicule, opposition, severe criticisms, and even threatened violence. But why should the Lord be sleeping? Because he knows the storm will not sink you, and he doesn’t really want to pry into every small detail you can handle yourself, as long as you have trust in him. So, sail on, and Bon Voyage!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 23, 2024

Fri, 21 Jun 2024 18:28:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 16, 2024

Fri, 14 Jun 2024 17:23:00 GMT

A friend of mine is so picky that she buys only organic produce because she fears passing the toxins in our foods into any child she’ll bring to the world. Sounds like she’s in for a rude awakening, for the chemicals have infested nearly everything we consume. I was told by another friend who is a Microbiologist to be sure to wash my tomatoes and apples with soap before eating them because they’re full of chemicals that aren’t good for the body and, in fact, are carcinogenic. But, how much of the plants and animals of our day grow on their own as—Jesus suggesting in today’s gospel—the Heavenly Gardener intended them; having not been genetically altered or crossed or manipulated? Be that as it may, the farmer or the gene scientist remains a proofreader of the works of creation; he can observe them, enhance them, rearrange them, or even frustrate and hinder them; yet, he lacks knowledge of the secrets of life and of growth itself. He cannot create life from the scratch. For in vitro fertilization, he needs someone’s egg and another’s seed; and to make rose bushes with gold petals, he needs another’s rose bush. I challenge him to make his own egg or rose bush.

If this is so for the natural order, which God placed under our care, how much more would God preserve the mysteries of His kingdom and reign over us. In Jesus He has revealed the desires of His inscrutable wisdom. God works His mysteries slowly in us. Like the seed planted on the ground which slowly grows into a mighty tree, once the seed is sown in us—as in baptism—we become a soil where God’s reign can take place. We must then consciously nurture the seed (the word and graces of God); and knowing that the clock of nature ticks slowly, develop real patience to allow the seed permeate its roots of faith, hope, love and forbearance deep into the ground of our soul. Those who trust in Him and yield to the designs of His wisdom will grow into a majestic tree, flourish like the palm tree, and grow like the cedar of Lebanon (Psalm 92:13).

Jesus’ parable speaks of the Church as the kingdom of God, which like a mustard seed grows into a large bush putting forth large branches for birds of all kinds to shelter in its shade. This image presents the Church as a great empire in which peoples of all nations (Ezekiel 17:23), languages and ethnicity meet. A significant characteristic of the Catholic Church is its universality: depicting an abode for all God’s children—rich, poor, brown, black or white. In it you’ll find individuals very highly learned and those of very humble background, great saints and miserable sinners from any imaginable race and tongue. In the Church, God tears down the barriers made by man. While we lament the evils of our time, we can’t fail to acknowledge what the Church has overcome: we’ve nearly put behind us slave trade, child labor, and subjugation of women. The Church continues in our time to call out the imbalance between the over-privileged few and the miserable many, the injustice of a First World versus a Third World . The Church remains the abode for birds of all kinds, flocking to every branch, and providing adequate shelter for all God’s children.

We must understand, too, that a person can frustrate the word planted in his or her heart through neglect or impatience. St. Theresa of Avila warns that an untended garden becomes overgrown with weeds. Many a believer has been drawn to the enemy by over-reliance on worldly wisdom, which scripture says is foolishness before God. The enemy is all too ready to furnish spurious alternatives to destroy the seeds of faith planted in us. He seeks to poison the life of the Church with demagoguery meant to obfuscate and call into question the essential truths of the faith. In this enterprise, he finds recruits even from within the faith—wolves in sheep’s clothing—who team with worldly forces to hem believers to submit to worldly errors. St. Paul urges us to be courageous, always aspiring to please God, “for we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor5:7).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 16, 2024

Fri, 14 Jun 2024 17:23:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 10th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 9, 2024

Fri, 07 Jun 2024 23:25:00 GMT

It appears our age has declared a no-holds-barred match for vile, untamed and unsavory speech. Use of expletives in speech are the new normal, in so far as they’re pelted on others of different ideological camp. Our Lord Himself was also a recipient of vicious and generous insults from people who wished to destroy His reputation and the mission to which He gave His all. So, take consolation when you’re so vilified.

Our Lord received full frontal accusations not only from his avowed nemeses—the scribes and Pharisees—but also from His family. Because He went doing His Father’s work, Jesus’ relatives deliberated on His situation, concluding that He was out of His mind; they determined to seize Him by force and bring Him home. On the other front were the scribes who, out of envy at the mighty works Jesus was doing, concocted a charge against Him—saying that He casts out demons through the prince of demons, Beelzebul. Jesus responds that it’s not even logically sound to say that evil is removed by evil, unless one is unwilling to see the contradiction—and yes, hatred can so blind a person that he or she refuses to see the difference between evil and good.

Sounds a lot like the right or left wing ideological positions of today. With their branch of the media, they create human abstractions to rampage their opponents, with lies and slurs they’re all too ready to furnish for varnishing their guile. Victims of this tragedy convince themselves that they have the ‘right to be evil’ and disparage anyone who would not capitulate to their world order. This is what Jesus calls blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. St. John Paul II describes it in his encyclical on the Holy Spirit, Dominum et vivificantem (46) : Sin against the Holy Spirit is “the sin committed by the person who claims to have a ’right’ to persist in evil—in any sin at all—and who thus rejects Redemption.” The Catechism teaches that, though there is no limit to God’s mercy, “anyone who deliberately refuses to accept His mercy by repenting, rejects the forgiveness of his sins and the salvation offered by the Holy Spirit.” (CCC 1864). The Church teaches us to be on our guard against these six particular infractions of the moral law that are categorized as sins against the Holy Spirit:

Despairing of salvation – concluding that one cannot be saved; hence, there’ll be no need trying. The evil one may be at the root of that suggestion. No created human being is beyond salvation.

Presumption of salvation – we’re to avoid the heretical view that once saved always saved (double predestination). It can lead to a hardness of heart and persistence in sin.

Denying a revealed truth – once an individual closes his or her mind to an article of faith revealed by God, the person puts himself or herself above God and denies God’s omniscience.

Envying other peoples’ grace – an individual who is sad about the grace in others – even though the person may already possess the same gift.

Obstinacy in sin – one who believes that he or she cannot repent from a sinful condition denies redemption and salvation.

Final impenitence – a heart that is not disposed to grace will surrender to sinfulness and a death of the soul. As you live your life so you die.

A word about the brothers and sisters of Jesus. I won’t waste time on the claim by Marian-haters that the Blessed Mother had other children. The important point raised is the new foundation for the messianic family. Jesus elevates to the status of family His disciples and all who hear the word of God and observe it—implying that natural ties won’t suffice, neither would tribal or ethnic heritages nor denominational affiliations alone guarantee access. The mothers of the messianic family would bring forth Jesus into the world (Gal 4:19).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 10th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr B, June 9, 2024

Fri, 07 Jun 2024 23:25:00 GMT

Presumption of salvation – we’re to avoid the heretical view that once saved always saved (double predestination). It can lead to a hardness of heart and persistence in sin.

Denying a revealed truth – once an individual closes his or her mind to an article of faith revealed by God, the person puts himself or herself above God and denies God’s omniscience.

Envying other peoples’ grace – an individual who is sad about the grace in others – even though the person may already possess the same gift.

Obstinacy in sin – one who believes that he or she cannot repent from a sinful condition denies redemption and salvation.

Final impenitence – a heart that is not disposed to grace will surrender to sinfulness and a death of the soul. As you live your life so you die.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ Yr B, June 2, 2024

Sat, 01 Jun 2024 10:54:00 GMT

Nothing depicts the Eucharistic Meal more as a mystery meal than the sign that Jesus, in today’s gospel, gave to two of his disciples who had the charge of preparing the venue for the meal. He told them: “Go into the city and a man will meet you, carrying a jar of water” (Mk14:13). It’ll be nearly unthinkable in the historical setting in which Jesus spoke to meet a man carrying a water jar: only women carried water jars. The sighting of this “Mystery Man” was an indication of a shift in paradigm; a volcano within the spiritual landscape. As they sat down for meal, things quickly turned even “weirder.” He mentions that one of them would betray Him. This news thoroughly perplexed them. As the meal progressed, though the items of the Passover supper were the same as they had traditionally experienced it over the years in their different families, the words and actions had changed. For example, they recognized the unleavened bread, the cup of Kiddush (cup of separation) and Haggaddah (cup of explaining), the bitter herbs, the Charosheth (pastry), the singing of the Hallel , (praise) etc. But here, Jesus takes the bread and wine, and in place of offering the traditional thanks, which goes something like this: “Blessed be thou, O Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who bringest forth from the earth…,” He rather says: “This is my Body; this is my Blood.” Something earth-shattering is taking place.

Yes, the Eucharist is earth-shattering! According to Romano Guardini, the Eucharist is the steepest, the highest pinnacle of our faith or the narrowest, most precipitous pass through which it must labor to reach full, essential freedom. That is why the feast we celebrate today, called “Corpus Christi” (Body of Christ), is at the heart of our Christian faith and life. Recall that since after Easter, we have been immersed in mysterious celebrations that do not jive with worldly mentality. The solemnities of the Lord that conclude the Easter season and appear after Easter—Ascension, Pentecost, Blessed Trinity, Corpus Christi, and you may add Sacred Heart (and Immaculate Heart of Mary)—are mysteries marking us out as a people who live in a different landscape than the world.

When unbelievers and even some Christians of the Protestant sects see us celebrate the Eucharist, they look at us as crazy people. Some shake their heads and laugh scornfully at us. They say that we believe in fairytales; just as it would have been a fairytale if someone told them a thousand years ago that the sun is the center of the solar system. But for many centuries, the world believed that the earth was flat and the sun, the moon and all the stars revolved around a flat earth. People believed it because that was the way it looked: the earth looked flat, simple and short. But Jesus who came from above has the clearest sight to see holistically the world made through Him. And when He says that a piece of bread is His Body and a sip of wine His Blood, He means it, not only spiritually or symbolically but really. The Letter to the Hebrews asks, “If the blood of goats and bulls and the sprinkling of heifer’s ashes can sanctify those who are defiled, how much more the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God” (Hebrews 9:14). This is a reference to the blood that Moses sprinkled on the people, announcing it to be the blood of the covenant. In giving us the Eucharistic Bread and Wine, Jesus discloses that the Eucharist is the penultimate self-offering of Himself in unbloody manner, which will be finally fulfilled bloodily at Calvary.

But more than a mere gift, the Eucharist is an encounter between us and the One who gave Himself. In it, we engage in an exchange that becomes a “holy mystery of ultimate intimacy” (Guardini). In the Eucharistic encounter, we assume a new nature—a divine nature. Just as in marriage, the two become one flesh, so in the Eucharist we share in the incorruptible life of God. Hence, Jesus says that he who eats His flesh and drinks His Blood has eternal life.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ Yr B, June 2, 2024

Sat, 01 Jun 2024 10:54:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Most Holy Trinity Yr B, May 26, 2024

Sat, 25 May 2024 09:53:00 GMT

The first prayer I learned as a child was a sign, with accompanying words—the Sign of the Cross : “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” The sign that accompanies this prayer is no meaningless gesturing, rather an expression of what lies at the root of our existence: that we live and move and have our being under the abiding presence of the Trinity . There’s a proper way to make this sign: With our left hand resting below our chest, we lock together our right thumb, index and middle finger—forming a corpus that mimic the Trinity. With these, we touch our forehead to show that in it is the imprint of our personhood, where God put His distinct mark of ownership. It is through our head/face that we become present and our identity is externalized. In the Sign of the Cross, we touch our forehead while saying, “In the name of the Father,” to give an assent of faith to the Father, the First Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Artist, Creator and Ruler of all things, visible and invisible—as said in the Creed. Next, with those fingertips we touch the base of our heart, the center and citadel of God’s love, while saying, “And of the Son.” The Son of God, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, begotten, not made, is the true face of God to the world and the Lover par-excellence. He is the One whom, as John 3:16 says, God sent out of the abundance of His love to be our savior. And finally, the fingertips move from the heart to the left shoulder crisscrossing the heart to rest on the right shoulder, while we say, “And of the Holy Spirit.” The movement to the shoulders kicks on our propellers which fan to flame our wings of prayer, lifting our faith and love to flight of active service, supported by the unction (oil) of the Spirit of God, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. At a final interlocking of the hands, we say, “Amen”—So be it. In union with the Trinity, we’re stabilized; we reach altitude.

In the prayer illustrated, we invoke the Trinity whose feast we celebrate today. The Trinity is also invoked at other times when we pray and are blessed with the gifts of heaven. In the Name of the Trinity we are baptized and have our sins forgiven in the Sacrament of Reconciliation; and before we close our eyes in death, the Trinity is implored on us to bring us to share in the bond of love that unites the Three Persons in God—existentially distinct, yet indivisible in substance. I admit that this description is abstract, yet it’s not unknowable. The Trinity is abstract to the degree that algebra is beyond the grasp of kindergarteners or calculus beyond the grasp of an elementary school child. Heavenly mysteries are similarly beyond our ability to grasp “fully .” It is only an unredeemed heart and mind which finds the Trinity unintelligible—like the fool who, says in his heart: there is no God above (Psalm 14:1).

The Trinity is the central mystery of our faith in God. Hence, the Church teaches: “We believe in one God...Father and Son and Holy Spirit...[whom] we worship and confess: not one God in such a way as to be solitary, nor the same in such wise that he himself is Father to himself and he himself is Son to himself; but the Father is he who begot, and the Son is he who is begotten; the Holy Spirit in truth is neither begotten nor unbegotten, neither created nor made, but proceeding from the Father and the Son, coeternal and coequal and cooperator with the Father and the Son” (Denzinger). This mystery explains that God the Father is the Creator God ; God the Son is the same God who became our Redeemer ; and in God the Holy Spirit, He is the Sanctifier . In the Trinity is a mutual interpenetration of hypostasis (persons); a perfect unity of persons which God desires for all His children.

A unified family consists of father, mother and child(ren). A statue of the Holy Family with the image of the child ripped off is no longer a Holy Family statue. Divisions, discord and acrimony hurt the inner life of the Trinity. Rooted in God, we’re invited to mindfully seek harmony, and to love with all our heart.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Most Holy Trinity Yr B, May 26, 2024

Sat, 25 May 2024 09:53:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Pentecost Sunday Yr B, May 19, 2024

Sat, 18 May 2024 01:00:00 GMT

The feast of Pentecost may not be as popular as Christmas or Easter but it commemorates a watershed event in the life of the Church. In fact, Pentecost is the birthday of the catholic Church . Churches that designate themselves as Pentecostal try to claim sole possession of the Spirit, emphasizing baptism of the Holy Spirit—by which they mean—speaking in tongues as their trademark. We do not want to appropriate the Spirit as ours only: after all, Jesus said that “the Spirit breathes wherever He wills” (John 3:8). We cannot bottle the Spirit or compel Him to join camps in the scandalous divisions among the followers of Christ. What I mean by saying that Pentecost is the birthday of the catholic Church is: it was on this day, AD 33, that the following of Christ became a “catholic” event (From the Greek katholikos , meaning “universal,” or as Walter Ong SJ, translates it, “throughout-the-whole” ). Prior to this day, Christians were a few “timid” Jews gripped by fear, which caused them to lock themselves up in a room. After the Pentecost event, they felt released and went out into the open to pronounce boldly the same cause about which they had feared to speak. What happened? How was this possible?

To put it in precise anatomical terms, the days after Jesus’ Resurrection to His Ascension were the days that the Church was conceived and matured in the womb of the Holy Spirit. On the morning of the resurrection, Jesus imparted the Holy Spirit on the apostles. But it appeared that the Spirit was not immediately manifest, for they were still incredulous about Jesus’ appearances and the mission to which He sends them, saying: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations...” (Matthew 28:19). Nothing explains their incredulity better than the question they put to Him on the day He ascended into heaven: “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). Jesus answered by repeating the commission to witness to Him throughout Judea, Samaria and the ends of the earth. The apostles were still shortsighted, desiring a restoration of an earthly Israelite kingdom whereas Jesus was speaking about the kingdom of God that is much more expansive—Judea, Samaria and ‘ the ends of the earth .’

No doubt, they went back to their hiding place utterly disappointed. But the birth pangs had begun. The nine days from Ascension to Pentecost saw the Spirit growing and maturing them. Their water broke the moment the strong wind tore into the room in which they were hiding. The fire of tongues which rested on each of them burned out their fears and unsealed their clogged lips, so they could speak in tongues. None of them, I suppose, understood what tongues or glossolalia meant at that time. They were not jerking and uttering nonsensical words as happens in many Pentecostal bazars. They found a new freedom from fear and went out to speak to people. They all spoke Aramaic. But the people gathered heard them in their own individual native languages. The Iranians of that time who spoke Parthian heard Aramaic in their language; the Egyptians in the crowd heard Aramaic in Egyptian; and Romans heard Aramaic in Latin, etc. The Holy Spirit was the sole translator and interpreter.

Recall that it was the same God’s Spirit who at Babel caused the confusion in languages when humans turned prideful. Pentecost, therefore, is God’s Spirit undoing the confusion of Babel, so that all might hear and understand the mighty works of God. The word Pentecost which means “fiftieth” was a Jewish harvest feast (Exodus 23:16) commemorating their deliverance from slavery and the giving of the law to Moses. In the new order, this Passover is effected through the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Christ, by which a new people called by God would be delivered from real slavery—slavery to sin—and rescued by God’s love. In place of a law written on tablets, the Spirit of God gives us the new law of love. This law will apply to and guide all peoples from different nations who form the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Pentecost Sunday Yr B, May 19, 2024

Sat, 18 May 2024 01:00:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Ascension of the Lord, Yr B, May 12, 2024

Sat, 11 May 2024 10:31:00 GMT

On top of the mountain from which Jesus bade his last farewell to his disciples can be seen many ancient olive trees; hence, the name Mount of Olives. The spot was well known to Jesus who often went on top of that mountain for a heart-to-heart conversation with His Father. Its special importance to Jesus and to us can be glimpsed from the epoch-making events that happened there; for it was there He taught the Lord’s Prayer , urging us to call God our Father. It was also at the Mount of Olives that he enunciated the eschatological discourses, revealing the things to come. And at the base of this mountain—where Gethsemane is located—He experienced His terrible agony. It wouldn’t be surprising that He will return to this mountain to bid farewell. Zechariah had prophesied that, “On that day his feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east, and the Mount of Olives shall be split in two” (Zechariah 14:4). The exact spot from which tradition says that He was lifted up to heaven has an indented footprint in solid rock. A small chapel has been erected which has a large white dome that pulls your gaze immediately to heaven, and a single narrow door so low that all who enter must bow (as is the case at the Church of the Nativity from which He entered our world).

Many pilgrims to Jerusalem climb up to the Mount of Olives to see the footprints that Jesus left on the mountain. Those footprints aren’t just to be observed; they’re an invitation for us to take Him to the world. That is what He meant when, as we heard in the first reading, He told the apostles: “You shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Those were the last words of Jesus to His apostles and to the world. Hence, the Ascension rather than keep us gazing to the sky or sitting comfortably in our churches, sets us out on a journey—a journey to become disciples, carrying His name to the ends of the earth, baptizing those who believe, casting out demons, picking up snakes, speaking in tongues, and healing the sick. None of these tasks sound easy to undertake. We have unbelieving children and relatives who must be brought back by our persuasive words, by the examples of our life, and through knees bent in prayer. We must not let our guards down as the enemy commits souls to hell. We’re aware of the snakes swirling around as sinful behaviors, deception and corruption, war, neglect and indifference in the face of world hunger and disease. We must speak the language of the spirit which sounds alarming to the unbeliever but surely saves. We cannot sit out the rubble by waiting for Jesus to come back to complete the work. He didn’t leave us a bed to rest securely but His footprints to set out on our journey of faith. The second reading says that He has equipped us for the work of ministry, for building up His body (Ephesians 4:12).

But before the apostles set out, He tells them to return to Jerusalem for the promise of the Father, to be fulfilled when the Holy Spirit descends upon them. The Holy Spirit will let them see the clear picture so they can be empowered to begin the journey. He will be the power lifting and sustaining them amidst persecutions and martyrdom. The Holy Spirit also helps us rise above the divisions, hurts, disappointments, negativity and gossips to which we often get sucked into. When from the window of an airplane you look down to the earth, everything appears little; you realize, too, that the lines of division on the map between Oklahoma and Kansas, between US and Canada do not exist. Thus, Ascension leads us to rise above our divisions and prejudices and get closer to God. At that we realize that we are not, after all, the center of the universe. The things we think are too big become tiny when seen from the lens of God and rather than feed into family and social squabbles, we become bridge-builders; rather than act out of cynicism, we become hope for the world.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Ascension of the Lord, Yr B, May 12, 2024

Sat, 11 May 2024 10:31:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Yr B, May 5, 2024

Tue, 07 May 2024 23:09:00 GMT

The reason why the word “love” is so often misused is not only because of the poverty of our language but also because humans are specialists in turning mystery into a jest. Hence, the teenage girl who justifies moving in with her boyfriend by saying, “I love him” sees no difference between her statement and that of her dad who drops her off at school, kisses her goodbye and says, “I love you;’ or yet another statement by her classmate who says, “I love mission work;” and accordingly, during spring break, chooses to go serve children suffering from kwashiorkor. While an English person will use the same word ‘love’ for the three expressions mentioned above, a Greek person would have used three different words. This makes it difficult to interpret Jesus’ words in today’s gospel, given that our English Bible uses the same word “love” where the Greek Bible says, “agape,” “eros,” or “filia.” In fact, one of the words for love, “eros,” which means sexual attraction never appears in the entire New Testament; and while “filia” (affection or friendship) in all its variations appears 45 times; “agape,” which means divine or sacrificial love is found 320 times. So, whenever I say “love,” in the course of this reflection, I say it with tongue in cheek.

Jesus didn’t just blurt out the word, “I love you” as we so often hear today—from celebrities, for whom “I love you” means, “Buy my line of products, or music, or vulgar and tasteless jokes, or primed body poses;” or from politicians, for whom it means, “Give me your vote and your money;” or from every pimp out there or lustful man or woman, for whom “I love you” means, “I want your body as apparatus for money or pleasure.” Jesus tells us that He draws His love for us from His Father —“As the Father loves me, so I also love you” (John 15:9). It may sound clumsy to say, but next time you want to truly tell someone that you love them, you can use Jesus’ formula and say, “As God loves you, so also I love you.” By saying so, you’ve told the person that you’re not after their body as a tool for pleasure, nor are you interested in their approval or whatever else they can do for you. This is love made in heaven; love free from deceit, greed and domination. It is the only way that Jesus instructs us to love one another.

The tragedy is that many persons, including followers of Christ have never genuinely loved another with the love of God. Many live under the illusion that they have deep affection for another while it’s only their ego that is “projected into the other person” (F.J Sheen). What follows is only impulse—like desiring to eat only the frosting on the cake while ignoring the cake. As the sugar that coats the cake cannot transform into cake, so pleasure cannot replace love. It is out of the overabundance of His love and to fulfill His own design that the Divine Lover chose to coat even eros with pleasure. For without the pleasure of eros, humans may never engage in it and procreation would be hampered. As I once heard someone say, but for the pleasure in it, the sexual act could be utterly repulsive both for the energy it saps and the awkwardness of its position. Who can offer to drink a shot of another’s saliva? That explains why rape which compels another to engage in the sexual act is criminal. Although eros generates tremendous thrill, it is also the greatest cause of anxiety, depression and neurosis that afflict the multitude to whom lust and love are identical relations. How many lives have been wrecked by eros ? How many children have died in the abortion mill as a result of this mismatch? How many are left without a father or guardian? Eros has dominated our literature, our politics, and worst, our schools. Our sight and sound are insulted steadily in the siege.

But the love of God is greater than human mind can imagine. St. John reminds us that love is not just a feeling or an idea, but a person. “God is Love. He who abides in love abides in God and God in him.” Let us love one another!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Yr B, May 5, 2024

Tue, 07 May 2024 23:09:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, Yr B, April 28, 2024

Tue, 07 May 2024 23:07:00 GMT

In five Bible moments, Jesus employed striking metaphors to describe His relationship with us. These came in allegorical speeches called the “I am sayings,” which diffuse intricate spiritual fervor with deep emotional and real life resonance. The first “I am” saying was “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35); the second was “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12); the third, which we heard last Sunday was “I am the good shepherd” (John 10:11); the fourth was “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25); and finally the fifth, “I am the true vine” (John 15:1), heard in today’s gospel. Each of these sayings references a particular area of human need to which the Savior posits none other than Himself as the ultimate beneficent provider—bread for food, light for vision and direction, shepherd for safety and protection, resurrection for hope and wellness, and vine for awakening, stimulation and activity. These sayings are indicative of patterns in the human organic structure requiring support and sustenance. Jesus clearly states that He alone can provide the support and sustenance to actuate, vivify and restore the quiddity of life at any given stage. He goes as far as saying that without Him we can do nothing. How is that true?

In reference to the statement, ‘without me you can do nothing,’ Jesus was not suggesting that without Him, you will become immobile or condemned to inactivity, unable to do anything; rather, in precise metaphysical terms, that you can quintessentially make only non-being. To make non-being is to become a harbinger of woe, gloom and doom. A classic example of such maker of non-being was Saul prior to his conversion. The first reading describes how the disciples in Jerusalem could not at first take him for a disciple. Saul was not immobile before he became grafted onto Jesus, the Vine. In fact, he did a lot of things—like being the henchman at the stoning of Stephen, the first martyr; like, marching Christians to prison and the execution chamber. And like Saul, many makers of non-being, then and now, are convinced of the good of their deranged enterprise. For example, Hitler set out to ‘cleanup’ the human race and rid it of human vermin that polluted it; Jim Jones was convinced that only he could save his poor followers from “evil America;” today’s purveyors of abortion rights, euthanasia, gay dicta, gender fluidity and unbelief pride themselves as decent people out to help others attain optimal levels of happiness; the Al-Qaida and ISIS warriors believe that they are doing a holy service to Allah, etc., etc. What they all have in common is a mode of life separated from Christ, the Vine. Whenever anyone of them becomes joined and grafted onto Christ, they experience life as they never knew it before. Paul is an example of one pruned by the Father to bear unbelievable fruit.

Pruning is often a violent act, involving taking a knife, a clipper or saw to cut out or cut into shape, expunge dead limbs, cut out thorns and thistles that grow into the vine with intent to destroy it. So the enemy and the world circle us with deadweights and destructive ideologies that seek to suffocate the vine. When with His skillful hands, the heavenly Gardener comes to prune us for our overall spiritual health unto salvation, many cry out in anguish about the discipline, sacrifices, and transformation we must undergo in order to fit the landscape of paradise. Through the Church, God also prunes us with doctrines and belief systems that fit better the heavenly landscape. The fruits of our suffering in the midst of the pruning are often immediately indiscernible because our feeble nature desires to remain as putrid as it is. Can I ask you today to reflect deeply and identify those pruning moments and see them for what they are: God taking His shears and working your life to shape. If in the past you have resisted, can I ask you to surrender today and beg the Lord to get busy with your soul. Where do you want Him to start pruning?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, Yr B, April 28, 2024

Tue, 07 May 2024 23:07:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Yr B, April 21, 2024

Fri, 19 Apr 2024 23:06:00 GMT

A flock of sheep would have a very distinctive instinctual relation with the shepherd lacking in other livestock. If you have a pet, you can also sense a little bit the idea percolated in today’s gospel about the shepherd knowing his sheep and the sheep hearing his voice. In a certain small-claims court where two individuals fought over the ownership of a puppy, the judge decided the case by letting loose the dog to determine the party to whose direction the puppy would proceed. There’s also reason why a dog would bark at strangers and wag its tail at its owner.

Every year, on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, the gospel reading is taken from the 10th Chapter of St. John’s Gospel where Jesus teaches lessons on the sheep, the sheepfold, the gate or door of the sheepfold, and about shepherds—good and bad. He tells us that He is that Good Shepherd who lays down His life for His sheep. The reference to laying down His life for the sheep and taking it up again has a resurrection motif and explains why the Easter season is the opportune time to reflect on the Good Shepherd. Hence, the Fourth Sunday of Easter is normally called the Bonus Pastor or Good Shepherd Sunday . Lest someone misunderstand the use of the metaphor of the shepherd and the sheep or feel demeaned by being called sheep, Jesus makes a direct connection of His being a shepherd with the paschal mystery through which He laid down His life, took it up again—resurrected—in order to gather together the flock entrusted to Him—whether they are currently part of the sheepfold, the Church, or exist in various sects and traditions of the world religious bodies.

By calling Himself the Good Shepherd, and we, the sheep, Jesus shows that there’s an intimate relationship between Him and us, fostered by prayer and the sacraments offered to us through the Church, His true sheepfold. The Catechism teaches that “the Church is, accordingly, the sheepfold, the sole and necessary gateway to which is Christ. It is also the flock of which God himself foretold that he would be the shepherd, and whose sheep, even though governed by human shepherds, are unfailingly nourished and led by Christ himself, the Good Shepherd and Prince of Shepherds, who gave his life for his sheep” (CCC 754). We must therefore learn the voice of our shepherd in the intimacy of prayer.

Many who dog-sit or pet-sit for another may get quite acquainted with the pet, but not as much as they would were they the pet’s owner. Jesus says that there lies the difference between the hireling and the owner. The extent to which the good shepherd would zealously guard the sheep is shown by his readiness to have himself torn to pieces by a wolf than let the wolf scatter and make a meal of the sheep. You may wonder what sense there is in dying to save mere animals. As bewildering as that may sound, it’s even more astonishing to think of God dying to save mere mortals. In this, there can be no presumption of equivalence. Hence, St. John, in the second reading, considers it the greatest act of love that we should be called God’s children. Similarly, no event, no idea or name would suffice for our salvation other than the name of Jesus. St. Peter declares today: “there is no other name given to the human race by which we are to be saved” (Acts 4:12). What about non-Christians and non-believers?

Leave it to God to work out how—in His inscrutable wisdom—He will unite all the other sheep that do not belong to the sheepfold—the Church—teach them the voice of the Shepherd, and bring them to pasture. Do I think that the various branches of the Lutheran, Presbyterian, Methodist traditions that all identify as “First” leaving no room for a “Second” will someday unite? It’ll be a miracle. How about the Jews, Muslims, Confucianists, Hindus, Shinto, Tao and the Nones? With God nothing is impossible. We’re to be content with knowing that the Good Shepherd , the Great Gatherer has provided space for all and His watchful eyes are upon all His sheep wherever they may currently be.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Yr B, April 21, 2024

Fri, 19 Apr 2024 23:06:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Easter, Yr B, April 14, 2024

Sat, 13 Apr 2024 00:13:00 GMT

If you have not suffered any bodily injury, you may be unaware of the plight of paralytics and what daily living means for them. On no other day than Good Friday of the year 2011, I broke my ankle. I was on a ladder trying to unveil the crucifix hanging about twenty feet above the apse of the altar when the rung of the ladder on which I was standing broke off. Miraculously, the ladder fell off leaving my feet and my whole body on their own as I landed on the hard floor. I heard clearly the sound of cracking bones. But I was in denial as I got up to walk. I managed a few steps before crumbling into the hands of a beloved parishioner, who had forewarned me not to try walking. As you may have noticed, quite a few priests are boneheaded. All the hospital stuff: cast and wheelchair and crutches were not as humiliating to me as when I realized I wouldn’t be able to perform basic human/private functions without assistance. The rest is story. But I count myself as one—like the crippled man at the Beautiful Gate —healed through the power of Jesus’ Resurrection.

You didn’t hear the story that was the prologue to Peter’s sermon in the first reading. A paralytic with congenital disability had been healed at the Beautiful Gate of the temple. I’m not going to get into the dispute by scholars about the gate— Nicanor or Shushan or any other—to which the reference is made. I rather choose the spiritual interpretation that posits the gate as the “horaios” or fair and lovely gate because of the miracle wrought there. Isaiah asks that the gate be opened “...for the upright nation, the nation that keeps faith to enter” (Isaiah 26:2). He may have prophesied about this gate and miracle as the foundation for the new people—the upright nation—comprising the poor, the broken, the crippled, the abandoned, the marginalized, who will, rejoicing, enter the Lord’s house. The former paralytic will lead the dance into God’s House even as the disgruntled authorities still sought to silence and arrest and threaten the apostles. Peter’s sermon today highlights the insidious nature of the plot against the Righteous One by whose power the paralytic had been healed. He made sure to rebuke them for their treachery: Pilate had seen through their envy and as a skilled Roman diplomat brought out the worst murderer in town, by name Barabbas, who was on death row. He must have been shocked that the Jews asked for the release of a murderer rather than an innocent person. Doesn’t it shock, too, that society—then as today—elevates on the pedestal porn stars, cheats, liars, frauds? Barabbas is well and alive in our midst. But Peter courageously rebukes them and us for our ignorance as he announces a repentance that would lead to conversion and restoration.

Such was the message that Jesus brought last Sunday as He inaugurated the new ritual of reconciliation. Today, no sooner had the disciples who met Him on the road to Emmaus started to recount the story of their encounter than He walks in with the same greeting of peace. He shows them the riven hands and feet. Why does He retain those scars? Because they are the precious price of our redemption. Our plastic age would seek to erase the scars and present a polished Jesus who promises only wealth and health. But as Fulton Sheen said, “When Satan enthrones himself as lord, he’ll speak gracious words of comfort, extend his hands to lovingly carry and caress children. But how do we tell he’s not the Lord? He’ll have no scars; he’ll appear as a priest but not a victim.”

The lesson today: We may be broken—whether from falling from a ladder or getting entangled with sin—but the Lord offers us healing through the power of His Resurrection. Everything, He said, happened to fulfil the scriptures “ that the Christ would suffer and rise from the dead...and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins, would be preached in His name to all the nations” (Luke 24:46-47). Our own scars, borne in His name, prove us witnesses.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Easter, Yr B, April 14, 2024

Sat, 13 Apr 2024 00:13:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy), Yr B, April 07, 2024

Sat, 06 Apr 2024 09:42:00 GMT

How many times have you used the expression, “My Lord and my God?” I was taught by my father to say those words whenever the priest elevates the consecrated host. I have done it at every Mass I’ve attended or celebrated. But those are not words of the beloved apostle, John or of Peter, the rock. They’re the words of the one we nicknamed “Doubting Thomas.” So much for doubt. I don’t want to sound like a Thomas-apologist, but I think that Thomas’ “doubt” has definitely enriched faith. Let us examine a few times Thomas’ brashness has done so much good. We’re used to the expression, “Dying with the Lord.” That also comes from Thomas when in John 11:16, he enjoins his colleagues: “Let us go along and die with him.” Jesus had mentioned something about a trip to Judea when the disciples reminded him, “Rabbi, it is not long since the Jews were trying to stone you; are you going back there again?” (John 11:8). Then Thomas says: “Let us also go to die with him” (John 11:16). Perhaps, one of the greatest revelations of Jesus about Himself as “the Way, the Truth and the Life” came after the brash Thomas, again, indicated that they didn’t know what Jesus meant. Thomas asked, “Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” (John 14:5). Do you think the other apostles understood what Jesus meant? Not likely. But they all kept mute as many of us would. If Thomas had not asked, maybe we wouldn’t have known Jesus today as “the Way, the Truth and the Life.” If that’s the product of doubt, I’ll say, sign me on.

That brings us to the emphatic statement of faith by Thomas today: “My Lord and my God.” Jesus has appeared to the ten. Thomas is not there. Where has he gone so that he is not with others? Some have thrown a number of suggestions: maybe he’d gone to chill out with his twin brother after the sad event of the loss of their master—you know how twins are so tied to each other, especially in adversity. Maybe he was so daring that he left to get food for the others locked up for days inside the room for fear of the Jews. Maybe he’s the kind who releases tension by taking a walk. Whatever be the reason why Thomas was missing from the community, we’re not told. But his absence did more good than bad. The Resurrected Christ appeared again, now a week later; and on the first day of the week. Could Jesus be firming for them the practice of gathering on this first day of the week? There’s abundant evidence to suggest so; for from then on, Sunday became the day they gathered to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. And the practice has stayed on till today. Sunday becomes the “Day of the Lord,” the Sabbath of the redeemed people of God.

But something else was also happening on this day: Jesus had a week earlier come to the disciples, made peace with them, offered them his forgiveness—for they’d behaved like wimps, abandoning and denying him; and perhaps filled with utter shame for their infidelity. He gave them the Holy Spirit and commanded them, in the same Name, to absolve the sins of those who seek reconciliation. Hence, the Sacrament of Reconciliation was instituted—the reason we call today Divine Mercy Sunday , as established by St. John Paul II at the dawn of the millennium. By returning a week later, he wanted to fulfil His words and confirm the faith of Thomas, for He’d said earlier: “I did not lose anyone of those you gave me” (John 18:9). Thomas and all who would be brought to the faith after the resurrection need not see the nail-marks, nor put their hand through them and into his riven side before they would believe; “they will walk by faith, not by sight” (II Cor 5:7), and thus will be blessed.

On this Octave of Easter , let us renew our faith and hold firm the promise and hope of the resurrection. A little curiosity, like Thomas’ won’t be completely out of place, if we’re true seekers. It may be easier to accept blindly or reject frivolously. The via media is “faith seeking understanding,” aka theology.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy), Yr B, April 07, 2024

Sat, 06 Apr 2024 09:42:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord, Yr B, March 31, 2024

Fri, 29 Mar 2024 22:13:00 GMT

If the devil thought death could swallow Jesus, that the grave would hem him in, he was terribly mistaken. Lucifer got swept off his feet today as his entire empire collapsed. The plan he masterminded at which he led humanity to commit the sin of deicide flawed. The execution day became rather a Good Friday; Easter became the devil’s April Fool. He was not only outsmarted; he was fooled beyond words. The apparatchiks he put together to ensure the destruction of Jesus, the truth, and the saving message He brought, all got pilloried. Christ lives to die no more. But that’s not a declarative statement to which every ear that hears it will give assent. If anything, the resurrection was not only strange to many but also unnerving. It was so two millennia ago and remains so today. Every possible effort was made by the authorities—including bribing the guards stationed at the tomb—to change the story to that of robbery of Jesus’ dead body by his disciples (Matt 28:11-15). To suggest that the disciples of Jesus who all ran away the moment Jesus was arrested would come to a tomb guarded by a contingent of Roman soldiers and steal his dead body doesn’t just sound ludicrous but also utterly befuddling. Two things that are very expensive to service and maintain are lies and luxury. It didn’t take long for the theft allegation to fall apart. They needed a “better” lie but that would even cost more to maintain. Truth doesn’t need maintenance. It only needs time to unfold, like pregnancy. So, after 2000 years, the truth of Christ’s resurrection has woken you up and brought you here today. The prime evidence for the resurrection wasn't what was found but what was not there.

When Native Americans bury their dead, they include food supplies for the deceased to journey to a happy hunting ground. Among the Bini, the Oba was known to be buried with seven human heads and a number of attendants to serve him in the netherworld. Similarly, the Egyptians buried their Pharos with gold treasures. In fact, the tomb of Tutankhamon, a 14th century king, discovered in 1922 had gold treasures that tourists who visit the tombs of the Pharos go to view. The treasure discovered at Christ’s tomb which has bewildered humanity for two thousand years was not gold or silver or a million dollars. It was rather the priceless find of an “empty tomb.” No treasure can start to compare with that of an empty tomb.

The empty tomb is the “April Fool” that taunts the only enemy we’re allowed to have, namely, the devil. The empty tomb means that Christ did not experience decay or corruption. For us, it means that death, as St. Paul says, is swallowed up in victory and loses its sting (I Corinthians 15:54). The mystery of death is forever solved and, as the Divine Liturgy says: “We [now] proclaim your Death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection, until you come again.” The empty tomb has completely changed who we are. This is not just an insurance policy, rather a total transformation in which we’re immersed through baptism. That last line may sound difficult to grasp, but it means plainly this: Our old nature was a corrupt one—we’re born, we live for a while, we die, we rot. Our new nature is different—we’re reborn in baptism , we live for Christ , we die with Him , we’re raised to glory with Him in heaven. St. Paul says, “If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not what is on earth” (Colossians 3:1-3). Rise above humanity; embrace divinity.

Four months ago, we celebrated Christmas—a birthday that changed humanity forever. But the purpose for which He was born was to die. Today, we proclaim this death and profess His Resurrection that raised us to incorruptibility. You’re welcome to share in the blessings of this new life every Sunday, which now the Church celebrates as the Day of the Resurrection.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord, Yr B, March 31, 2024

Fri, 29 Mar 2024 22:13:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Yr B, March 24, 2024

Fri, 22 Mar 2024 22:36:00 GMT

“A victory march that ended in a torture chamber” is a fitting title for today’s celebration. When Roman generals return from war, they’re accorded the greatest honor with a parade from the outskirts of the city to the amphitheater where they’re decorated with deserving honors. The victory march with which we start the week the Church calls “holy” doesn’t end with accolades; it quickly turns into angry screams for blood—surprisingly by some of the same people who led the parade. But isn’t that what humanity is? So fickle that it doesn’t take much to make an about-face, a 180 degrees turn from praise-singing to mud-slinging. For example, when the #MeToo movement started, it was hard for many to reconcile how the accusers were the same people who months earlier filed in queues showcasing their slick bodies and plastic smiles eager to get snapshots with and gleefully recite their adoration to the accused. Classic Hollywood, or someone might say— Holly-weird . Humanity doesn’t fail to show that one thing in which we’re very consistent is being inconsistent.

The liturgy describes this Sunday very fittingly as the Palm Sunday of the Passion of Our Lord to reflect this inconsistency, a combination of victory and defeat, and victory through defeat. Palm Sunday, apart from celebrating the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, seeks to give us a sneak preview of the week—like an executive summary—encapsulating the events of the Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Vigil) in one single celebration. This, in a way, is meant to benefit those who may not be able to attend the Triduum and maybe explains why the passion narrative is read today. If every Catholic were to become an intentional disciple of Christ and attend the entire Triduum liturgy, maybe we might have just read only one gospel—that of the triumphal entry, and left the proclamation of the passion narrative for the proper day, which is Good Friday. Nevertheless, the passion narrative sets the tone for the week and prepares us to enter into the mystery of the Lord’s Passion. The suffering servant of Isaiah is the one who, according to Paul, doesn’t have to be grasping about His true nature as a divine person but became obedient unto death. He empties Himself to a point of ignominy and despair exclaiming loudly, in the words of Psalm 22: “Deus meus, Deus meus, quare me dereliquisti?” (My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?).

We can take a moment today to soak up the events that are about to unfold this week culminating in the Resurrection. The Church purposely uses this very human term, passion , to draw out the extreme and barely controllable intertwining of love, pain, and suffering in the garden. It is significant that the event started in a garden, for it is in the garden that lovers meet. At the garden of Gethsemane, passionate love was roused to a degree in which mere bodily sensation was eclipsed. Love was to be given in its fullest form and rejected in the most appallingly dreadful manner. The weight of many covenants broken by humanity becomes incalculable; and the physical effect was blood-sweat. No other incident is described in this manner. The passion narrative has a way of making our personal hurts sound minuscule. When Mel Gibson directed the film Passion of the Christ , he kind of lost the plot by making it all about pain suffered. But no torture inflicted by others are referred to as passion. The Passion of Christ is not so much about what He suffered as about the love given and poured out. Until we understand the immensity of divine love, we’ll continue seeking love in feelings rather than in undying and unalloyed service.

Holy Week can come and go as another week or we can immerse ourselves in the mystery. It’s up to us to choose this Holy Week whether to station our ego at the entrance of the garden of our hearts or open them as another Gethsemane where the Lord can enter to recreate His saving love.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Yr B, March 24, 2024

Fri, 22 Mar 2024 22:36:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Yr B, March 17, 2024

Fri, 15 Mar 2024 22:11:00 GMT

“Wrong Way Corrigan” was an expression coined by the media to describe a flight by aviator, Douglas Corrigan, who on July 18, 1938 initiated a flight from Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn New York to Long Beach California, but ended up in Dublin, Ireland. Maybe you’re different but I have found myself in some occasions going the wrong way, like Mr. Corrigan. In fact, that has been mankind’s history. Jeremiah bemoans this condition in today’s first reading as he announces a new covenant that God wishes to inaugurate. Like Corrigan, humanity has had a long record of going the wrong way and breaking the covenant with God—five straight covenants, all broken. Yet, God insists on sharing His life and love with us.

The history of Israel, in fact, the entire Bible is a story of covenants made and broken. The terms Old Testament and New Testament simply refer to old and new covenant. Testament and covenant mean one and the same thing and can be used interchangeably. The first covenant with Adam and Eve was broken when our first parents, rejecting God, trusted the deceit of the enemy. The second covenant with Noah suffered from unwarranted ambition that led to divisions in language. The third covenant with Abraham suffered from lack of trust, too, when Abraham, once praised for his faith, went into his slave girl. No sooner had the fourth covenant been ratified than Israel dropped the ball and worshipped the golden calf. And you know the story of David and libido. With all these covenants broken, God announces a new covenant. The terms of the new covenant would be different. Listen to Jeremiah: “I will place my law within them and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people... I will forgive their evildoing and remember their sin no more ” (Jeremiah 31:34). During the last Supper that Jesus had with 12 new representatives of humanity, He lays out in concrete terms what happens with this sixth covenant, which he calls “a new and eternal covenant.” He says that His body will be given up and His blood poured out for many. The idea of being poured out or in precise covenantal term “cut” (berith) implies that the new covenant will effect something the old ones didn’t. The victim will be the Son of God, not an irrational beast. He will bear the curse of the previous covenants that were all broken, so as to be able to ratify the new covenant in the self-pouring of Himself—what theologians call “immolation,” (Latin mola —grain, grind). To be ingratiated into this new covenant then, one must die with Him—like a grain of wheat that dies in order to produce much fruit.

What Jesus tells the Greeks in today’s gospel explains the New Covenant World Order to which both Jews and Gentiles are invited as one universal family—the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. This covenant will supersede nationality or ethnicity. Another expression for it is a “Catholic Covenant.” Only one thing is required: submission to death with the Lord Jesus. Too bad, if you think that’s too much to ask. The alternative option is to die—which you must, anyway—with your corrupt nature, your greed, envy, sloth, impurity, pride and rebellion and rot in hell with the devil. An ancient hymn summarizes it: “If we die with the Lord, we shall live with the Lord. If we endure with the Lord, we shall reign with the Lord—Keep in mind that Jesus Christ has died for us and is risen from the dead. He is our saving Lord. He is joy for all ages.”

The number is growing in modern society of those who think that Jesus, rather than being the way, is in their way. They believe that life will be a bed of roses if God gives way and they live for themselves. Jesus says: the way to happiness is to die to self and live for others; when you’re weak, then you’re strongest; it is more rewarding to give than to receive. This, too, may sound like “Wrong Way Corrigan” to the world; but to Jesus—the man of paradox and contradiction—for the seed to sprout, it must first experience death.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Yr B, March 17, 2024

Fri, 15 Mar 2024 22:11:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Yr B, March 10, 2024

Tue, 12 Mar 2024 18:45:00 GMT

Lent, like the season of Advent, has a “Rejoice or Rose Sunday” when the rose vestments are worn and the altar could be decorated with flowers in joyful anticipation of Easter. While in Advent it is called Gaudete Sunday , during Lent it’s called Laetare Sunday, taken from the first word of the antiphon at the Introit: “Laetare, Jerusalem, et conventum facite...” (Rejoice Jerusalem, and all who love her—Isaiah 66:10). The rejoice theme ties aptly with the theme of today’s gospel which announces the depth of God’s love that made Him send His only begotten Son as expiation for our sin. It took the night visit of Nicodemus for Jesus to make this explicit declaration about the Father’s love affair with humanity.

You might have wondered why Nicodemus chose the nighttime to visit the Lord. A simplistic interpretation would be: to avoid his fellow Pharisees noticing that he was hanging out with their avowed enemy. However, St. John’s frequent use of the imagery of light and darkness to signify truth and error, love and hate, grace and sin suggests a deeper motif. Recall that the first chapter of St. John’s gospel speaks of light overcoming darkness. A more apt use of this imagery is at the Last Supper. After Judas had partaken of the bread, he left the room. St. John reports: “And it was night” (John 13:30). That Nicodemus found audience with the Lord at night could suggest he worked out an opportune time to be with the Lord. In addition, we can draw from the nighttime visit a symbolism of baptism, which the fathers of the Church described as a stepping out from the darkness of the grave, sin and ignorance to Christ, the Light that enlightens all men. Here, Nicodemus was emerging from his darkness to encounter Christ, the Light, whose light overcomes his night.

It is significant that John places this meeting shortly after last Sunday’s account of the Cleansing of the Temple . Thus Jesus challenges Nicodemus to emerge from the darkness epitomized in the empty rituals and casuistry of the Sanhedrin of Israel and welcome the light of God’s love and presence manifested in Himself. Nicodemus made the first leap as the Pharisees groused about arresting Jesus. He reminded them that their plan to pass judgment without evidence of wrongdoing thwarts the very law which they claim to zealously safeguard (John 7:51). And at Jesus’s burial, he went overboard bringing enormous amount of balm (75 pounds of spices)—a mixture of myrrh and aloes—which according to Pope Benedict XVI, far exceeded all normal proportions, even for royal burials (John 19:39). Generous faith, like that of Nicodemus, can rouse our search for Jesus this Lent and evoke in us grace as fragrant as costly aloes for the purification of the dead weight of sin, blindness and ignorance in which modern society is entrenched.

The first reading illustrates this entrenchment: “All the heads of priesthood and the people, too, added infidelity to infidelity, copying the shameful practices of the nations and defiling the temple that the Lord has consecrated for Himself” (2 Chronicles 36:14). As modern man appears stranded in a desert of spiritual emptiness, Jesus invites Nicodemus and us to look up to Him—who is the Love of God—mounted on the cross as the antidote to our poisonous age. Rabbi Chukath noted three dangers to which a person stranded in the wilderness is exposed: 1) attack by vicious animals—serpents, seraph snakes and scorpions; 2) shortage of water; and 3) lack of food. In Jesus, divine love wards off these threats when a person embraces the cross, which detoxifies from the bite of sin; receives the Living Water (Jn 4:14); and feeds upon the True Bread of Life (Jn 6:35). St. Paul calls this the action of grace by which we have been saved through faith (Eph 2:8). It’s not by our own effort—so no one may boast—but by the love of God. Daily we cooperate with grace, not through heroic deeds, but small acts, like our Lenten fast and charity, in heroic ways.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Yr B, March 10, 2024

Tue, 12 Mar 2024 18:45:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Lent, Yr B, March 3, 2024

Fri, 01 Mar 2024 20:03:00 GMT

Years ago, I made a conscious decision to ignore the Stock Market, choosing a purposive ignorance. Why am I not hooked to Wall Street? Studying probabilities in graduate school helped seal my vow to not follow the speculations that surround the Stock Market and the very lucrative casino industry. It hasn’t stopped confounding many that an eight-block-long street in Lower Manhattan should be the cause of many heartaches and loss of life. Or that Las Vegas and its cancerous casinos should be the center of carnage and wreckage of life. The accolade, “Sin City” reveals the notoriety of Las Vegas as a moral gutter and center of unbridled greed and chicanery—a plastic city, shining brightly at night for the reign of sin and perversity, but ugly and dry as bone when exposed to the light of day.

You may have heard or read that money exchange and trading with money originated with the Jews, and in the temple. The episode reported in today’s gospel happened at the court of the Gentiles, situated inside one of the temple chambers. It is the Temple Wall Street. The religious administrators of the temple were diligent in providing worshippers with supplies of quality sheep, cattle, oxen and doves for the temple sacrifices. But given that majority of the worshippers came from foreign lands to visit the temple, they were made to exchange their “dirty” pagan money for the “holy” temple money. Their pagan money and even the Roman coin in use all over the land contained the images of pagan gods and were considered unfit for buying holy rams, holy oxen, and holy doves for the sacrifice. Soon a lucrative system of money exchange was born, introducing another tributary to the banking industry. It was only to be expected that this barter would dominate the life of the people who engaged in it and upend any semblance of divine worship in the temple. In fact, worship of money quickly took over the worship of God.

Jesus saw through this perverse greed and the trafficking going on inside the temple and won’t take it. His just anger was unleashed against the perpetrators as He became a one-man riot squad. Isn’t it surprising that no one confronted Him for “disturbing” the peace and the free flow of the temple sacrifice? They rather asked for a sign to which He gave a curious answer: “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” It sounded like the temple priests and their cohorts in the currency exchange business knew that they were being justly chided. They knew it was disingenuous to pretend that they were providing a holy service when they pocketed the unholy money. They also knew that the temple service had outlived its purpose and was no longer faithful to its avowed intent—the true worship of God. The challenge of the status quo was long expected. But as we’ve learned from the relationship between Wall Street and Washington, swamp-dwellers will rather spill blood than give up their filth. It would take the destruction of Jesus’ body to rebuild the already moribund temple.

You need not look too far to notice similar trafficking going on in our society by gospel-poachers who traffic on the Word of God, employing God’s name to extort money from vulnerable worshippers. Their personal mansions, private jets, custom-made cars, and fat bank accounts are telltales of their bravado in turning the house of God to a marketplace.

But we too can be guilty of turning God’s temple into a den of thieves through a disregard of the covenant and the commandments of God enshrined in our hearts. We also desecrate God’s temple by our noise, distraction, the way we dress for Mass and treat our body, which is God’s temple where God’s spirit dwells. Join in rebuilding this temple, and this Lent determine to keep God’s temple holy.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Lent, Yr B, March 3, 2024

Fri, 01 Mar 2024 20:03:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Lent, Yr B, February 25, 2024

Fri, 23 Feb 2024 21:57:00 GMT

God’s demand for Abraham to sacrifice his only son would sound disconcerting in contemporary idiom; but it’s a test of Abraham’s fidelity, which preceded a covenantal oath. It was an interface similar to that with Noah in last Sunday’s first reading. They’re both stories of God’s covenant with humanity. Told within the context of the customs and etiology of the people of the Ancient Near East, the story contained the essential ingredients of ancient covenantal pacts. Ancient covenants are no bilateral contracts between equals, but more often than not, pacts between a superior and an inferior in which the superior imposes his will on the inferior, usually as an act of grace and generosity. Ancient covenants have these essential parts: historical prologue, terms, oath of fidelity, and imprecations—detailing the fate of any party to the covenant who violates its terms (McKenzie). In the covenant ritual, a sacrificial animal is divided into two parts between which both parties pass, ensuring that their bodies come in contact with its blood, thus imprecating upon themselves the fate of the slaughtered animal should they violate the covenant. Most covenants would, materially speaking, favor significantly the inferior party whose only obligation was often to subject himself to the will of the superior party. We see the aftermath of Abraham’s willingness to subject himself to the will of God—innumerable blessings to Abraham and his descendants. Among these blessings are: countless children, possession of the lands of their enemies, and the synergistic flow of blessings through identification with the patriarchy of Abraham.

Westerners, generally, have an impoverished idea of covenant. We understand contract better and are often tempted to view our covenantal relationship with God as a contract with automatic “ quid pro quo” content. Chief among the reasons the so-called “Nones” give for abandoning the Christian faith is because the exchange expected for fidelity doesn’t immediately arrive. Raised as materialists by their parents, many millennials cling to the immediate material effect of their actions and promises, having no patience for long term effects and consequences. It also explains why our cars, buildings, computers and accessories are currently not made to last. We daily battle with computer upgrades that would necessarily consign them to the graveyard. Failure to upgrade to newer technology brings debilitating consequences. You may have noticed that you can no longer find ink for a printer you bought five years ago. Contrast that with the thinking that led the people who built this Church and many of the beautiful cathedrals of the renaissance: they wanted to erect structures that would outlast them and benefit their children’s children.

God’s rewards of the covenant are not paved with here and now effects, rather with enduring consequences. The blessings of the covenant extend to children’s children. It wasn’t Abraham but his descendants who experienced the bulk of the blessings promised. We’re not to peg our fidelity to the covenant on the guarantee that its good effects would come immediately and directly to us—a kind of: “I’ll worry about me and you worry about you.” This arrangement would wipe completely an essential virtue that prepares us for the life of heaven, namely, the virtue of hope. It kills the element of sacrifice and altruism embedded in the Christian faith and becomes a hindrance to virtuous living.

Jesus demonstrates this to the privileged apostles, Peter, James and John when on the mountain of transfiguration He opened to them a vision of the likeness of the glory of heaven. It was a kind of “fait accompli” assuring them that heaven is real and a goal to which they should give all in order to attain. The reward will certainly come our way if we keep faith and endure the trials of this life as preparation for the glory that is to be revealed. The three apostles bear human testimony that, yes, heaven is real and worth waiting for.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Lent, Yr B, February 25, 2024

Fri, 23 Feb 2024 21:57:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Lent, Yr B, February 18, 2024

Fri, 16 Feb 2024 21:19:00 GMT

Every few years, Lent would fall on Valentine’s Day. Many have asked what to do: Celebrate Valentine on the 13th or mix and match them? We don’t need to do any of that, because there’s Lent in VaLENTine, and St. Valentine would want us to be aware of that. Ash Wednesday falling this year on the 14th of February shouldn’t ruin your Valentine. It should enhance it, because Valentine’s Day presents an opportunity for us to reflect on the true nature of love, which involves giving all and losing all for the sake of the beloved. Love stripped of sacrifice loses its meaning and turns into mindless obsession and prevarication. We can truly look to Jesus to show us the true meaning of love, which His death on the cross thoroughly unravels. And so we begin our Lenten journey this year with the theme of love.

Six weeks into the Ordinary time season, we’re putting a hold on it to contemplate the events that brought about our redemption, namely, the passion, death, and resurrection of Christ. We’re given this opportunity to lift our hearts to God on high; that “in all we do and say, He may keep us free from being harmed by our enemy.” But more importantly, we enter into the deepest mystery of the life of Jesus. Between now and Easter, we’ll re-live the spectacularly important events that brought about our redemption in Christ.

This first Sunday, the focus is on our covenantal relationship with God. Covenant is a word that has got lost in our language and almost expunged from our lexicon. A few times during wedding ceremonies the word covenant will appear, but I bet that not many couples think of their union as a covenant. For if they knew, understood and appreciated their relationship as covenantal, they certainly would work harder to preserve and protect their union more than they currently do. When a man and a woman, for example, enter into the covenant of marriage, it isn’t a matter of saying “I do,” which quite too often ends in “I don’t,” or exchanging some expensive rings, it is rather question of an exchange that touches the core of their being—an exchange of persons. Today, we hear of God’s covenant with Noah, which was but one among the six major covenants that God entered into with His people. In this covenant, God makes all the promises and asks nothing of Noah and his family in return. St. Peter alerts us in the second reading that this covenant prefigured baptism, in which God promised us salvation—free of charge. On our part, we only have to agree to be loved by Him and live as His sons and daughters. He sends His Son to show us the way to His eternal kingdom. Several failures in the covenant with God by our ancestors in the faith made God seal an everlasting covenant where the merits of His Son’s death would be the “marker” for the expiation of our sins. Only those who trustingly approach Him by faith will receive this gift.

As Jesus begins the journey toward our salvation, He first confronts our ancient foe—the devil. He knew Lucifer still retained, after his fall from grace, the distinguishing intelligence that made him heaven’s light-bearer. He knew that he would need a long preparation to face the evil one. The temptation of Jesus by the devil shines a light on the tactics of the devil, who definitely would use similar tactics to trick us. By toeing the line of Jesus, we’re able to protect the precious gift of salvation that God bestows upon us. In the words of a Morning Prayer hymn, keeping our gaze on Jesus, “Would guard our hearts and tongues from strife; from anger’s din would hide our life; from all ill sights would turn our eyes; would close our ears from vanities.” Continuing, the words of the hymn turns to the absolute value of penitential discipline:

Would keep our inmost conscience pure; Our souls from folly would secure;

Would bid us check the pride of sense; With due and holy abstinence.

May this Lenten period lift us from the darkness of sin to Christ’s bright glory!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Lent, Yr B, February 18, 2024

Fri, 16 Feb 2024 21:19:00 GMT

Would keep our inmost conscience pure; Our souls from folly would secure;

Would bid us check the pride of sense; With due and holy abstinence.

May this Lenten period lift us from the darkness of sin to Christ’s bright glory!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, February 11, 2024

Fri, 09 Feb 2024 18:09:00 GMT

Thank God I wasn’t a priest during the time of the Leviticus when priests, more or less, acted as dermatologists and diagnosed who had what skin disease and decided who was to be banished to the leper colony or reinstated to the clean yard. Or maybe, I am—in the sacrament of Reconciliation. Sin is a form of leprosy, which banishes the sinner from the divine territory, striping him of sanctifying grace. A life of sin repels; but the grace of God restores. The word “leper” when spelt backward is “repel.” Thus sin and leprosy do exactly the same thing: they repel—the leper, from the community; and the sinner, from union with God. I’m thankful that most of my priesthood has been spent restoring sinners to divine friendship rather than repelling them from God. Yet, I possess only a minuscule amount of the extraordinary attractiveness in Jesus who welcomed and related with the blind, the lame, the crippled, prostitutes, and tax collectors, but also holy people like the Blessed Mother, Simeon and Ann, John the Baptist, etc. He crossed every line and related with all—good, bad, very bad, and outcasts.

I can imagine that the streets of Galilee were empty at the time the leper of today’s gospel made his way to Jesus in violation of the laws and norms of the society that lepers be quarantined. It wasn’t just for religious reasons, but also hygienic reasons that lepers were discriminated against. In fact, in ancient times (and maybe not too long ago), leprosy was considered one of the most dreaded contagious diseases that could endanger entire communities. Therefore, in theocratic settings, religious edicts were promulgated to combat its spread. By a harsh religious edict signed by the priest, a leper was declared unclean in both body and soul and necessarily banished. Should he by chance come around people, he’ll announce his presence by shouting “Unclean, Unclean” to give people enough time to take cover. Even when the leprosy is cured, the former leper would have to be signed off the leper colony by a priest, after he shall have made a very expensive offering as evidence. Jesus asks this leper to take that same step and see a priest. He, in turn, wants us to see a priest in the confessional to be signed off the sin-colony.

But the whole thrust of the story is that both Jesus and the leper crossed a line. The leper, weary of the segregation he and his fellows suffered, and in a move somewhat like that of the pioneers of civil rights, decided to break unjust laws, go against the taboos, breaking the chains of his bondage. And he met his match in Jesus who came to do just that. With courage, confidence and trust, he makes his request: “If you will, you can make me clean.” There’s hardly any quality of a good prayer lacking in the man’s eight words. We find there: faith, humility, submission to God’s will, hope and resignation that are essential ingredients of prayer and a genuine way to approach and seek the mercy of God.

This story is not just about one leper who was cured two thousand years ago; it’s a story about us and our new world order. Whenever we let sin pile up inside us, we become less attentive; and before you know it, we begin to care less. Our sin turns into “who we are.” It shocks that, today, in place of seeking healing, cleansing and forgiveness, the modern way is to institute a pride parade of sin and an alliance of “sin-mates” bound together in identity fascism. Hence, the sinner thinks that forming pressure groups would do for him what divine restoration promises in Jesus. Contrary to leaving the sin/leprous shelter to encounter the merciful Jesus, today’s identity ideologues seek recluse in political shelters from where they unleash a barrage of vile and hedonistic infamy against God and His Church. In a sense, today’s leper rather than seek Jesus for healing hugs sin and invites the enemy for a deluded conviviality that celebrates rather than cures leprosy. But the consolation of our faith is that Jesus constantly seeks the encounter that would restore and make us whole.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, February 11, 2024

Fri, 09 Feb 2024 18:09:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, February 4, 2024

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 20:08:00 GMT

Jesus delved into the untoward territory of evil and the demonic with the strong arm of a true lord and master; after all, that was why He was sent. Last Sunday, we saw Him strike that domain with the blow of divine power, forcing a man out of the throes of demonic oppression. Yet, for every single person freed, Satan holds two more in demonic bondage. He spares no breath as he skewers and squints to inflict untold suffering on the rest of God’s children. Therefore, we are faced day by day by misery and plagued with suffering, mysterious illnesses, environmental disasters, wars, acutely manufactured lies, obsequious ideological dicta framed to turnover and turnaround our socio-moral terrain. Evil seeks nothing but the capitulation of all children of God to its governing structure. The evil one graduates day by day acolytes of his infamous trickery who cheerlead for him against God’s vulnerable children. He equips them with smart tongues, puréed eloquence to sway the unsuspecting to his ways. We require the support of God’s spirit in order to escape the onslaught of the demonic.

Today’s first reading presents Job as one caught in the throes of the demonic. Faced with depression and untold misery, he views life as drudgery and sees himself like a slave chained with a hot iron rod. Sleep eludes him and the night just drags on as he growls in anguish. As we know, that’s not the entire story for Job. In fact, today’s responsorial psalmody, “Laudate Dominum, qui sanat contritos corde” (Praise the Lord, who heals the brokenhearted) gives a hint about the reward of those who, like Job, in the face of suffering place their trust in God— He binds up their wounds and sustains them amidst every adversity. Job, by proving himself one whose loyalty belongs to the Almighty, overcomes every woe and is rewarded and clothe with divine recompense. Yet, we find him inquiring and even demanding a response from God Himself about why the righteous should suffer. We’re all too familiar with that line of questioning in our own life. We all want answers from God. Don’t we?

God’s answer to Job and us is Jesus. In order to remake the entire world order damaged by sin, God, in Jesus inaugurates a new kingdom. The Preface of the solemn feast of Christ the Universal King tell about the constitutive elements of this new kingdom. To establish this kingdom, the anointed One of God will offer Himself on the altar of the Cross as a spotless sacrifice to bring us peace. In this way, He will accomplish the mysteries of human redemption and make all created things subject to His rule. The Preface then details a line item of what follows: “An eternal and universal kingdom, a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace.” Kingdoms do not come without a fight. Thus we see at the climax of Jesus’ life, the entire panoply of evil—betrayal, hatred, injustice, institutional corruption, violence, cruelty—descends upon Him. He fights them off, not armor for armor, but using the weapon of love and mercy: the true and, in fact, only weapon needed to swallow up even the worst of all enemies—death.

Today’s gospel has Him at the first stage of the battle for the kingdom. He shows in the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law that He possesses power over sickness. By confronting and expelling demons inhabiting people, He shows, too, that He could hold captivity captive. But He knew that His mission extends beyond healing a single fever. [I imagine that Peter’s mother-in-law did suffer another fever that ended her mortal life]. Expelling a few demons was such great feat, but He needed to strike that final uppercut blow that would send the devil spinning forever. Hence, at the final stage of the battle, He took the war to the devil by submitting to death that He might confront the evil one at his own territory of the grave. There He finished the battle of freeing those held captive and bringing them to the new life of the resurrection.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, February 4, 2024

Fri, 02 Feb 2024 20:08:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, January 28, 2024

Fri, 26 Jan 2024 19:35:00 GMT

Several people have asked “What is happening to the Church?” They perhaps have read or watched a lot of YouTube videos and podcasts by online self-acclaimed theologians and internet apologists who troll them with captions and topics to which they seek clicks that gain them monetary advantage or congratulatory plaques saying that they have reached a viewership or subscriber landmark—maybe, a hundred thousand or a million. The anger and resentment brought about by clicks on our dear hand-held devices is perhaps reaching an alarming proportion and impacting the mental and spiritual health of many Catholics. And do you know who rejoices in getting us unsettled? Our enemy, the devil, foists anger and hatred upon us, as a way to discourage us and lead us to doubt our faith and reject God. Some ask: “Where is God in all the confusion we experience in our lives, in the society, in the Church? Didn’t he promise, as we heard in today’s first reading that, he will raise a true prophet among his people, and that if a prophet presumes to speak in his name an oracle that he had not commanded him to speak...he shall die?” Why then do we hear contradictory voices? Why is there so much confusion in our day?

I would not deny the fact that we live in challenging times, and our faith is being seriously tested by events in the Church and the world. Hence, we ought to cling to the Word and Power of God that is able to save us from the menace of evil. It can be daunting to find ourselves in this struggle to keep our heads high. Yet, if we peer deeper, we will find revealed the power of Jesus who alone has the authority to destroy evil and bring calm to our lives.

Last Sunday, we heard how Jesus’ authority was revealed as He called His first disciples and, automatically, they followed Him, abandoning their trade and family. Makes you wonder, what sort of person is that. His words are so effective that when He speaks, instant action follows. The Church in her prayer calls Him “the (creative) Word through whom God made all things.” So powerful is this Word that in Him speech and action are one and the same thing. Before Him, evil spirits shriek and melt like ice cubes inside a microwave; the powers of hell collapse at His presence. The demoniac of today’s gospel shout in fear: “I know who you are—the Holy One of God.” The man was quickly dispossessed by the devil and repossessed by God. It’s that same authority of Jesus that brought you today to worship God and acclaim the Son of God who walked the terrains of Palestine some two thousand years ago. Listen to stunned expression of those who heard Him: “Here is a teaching that is new, and with authority behind it: He gives orders even to unclean spirits and they obey Him.”

A distinctive mark of Jesus’ teaching is that it has authority behind it. The people testify that unlike the scribes with their uninspiring, worn-out speeches, Jesus’ teaching convinces, impresses, and magnetizes those who hear Him. The simple reason: it is true. It’s not filled with the jargon and hysterical mumblings of modern day ideologically-driven politicians and newsmakers, who pretend to be newscasters and servants of the word.

Jesus has especially the power to confront evil, a subject matter that perturbs many and has infested many lives in modern society. The philosophers define evil as a deprivation of good that should be there. Having a physical and spiritual component, evil is jarring. Though physical evil like sickness, death, poverty, war, storms, tornadoes, earthquakes, and other disasters may threaten, a greater threat comes from spiritual evil which numb and menace life at its core. Its bequests are: abortion, euthanasia, gender ideology, drug and porn addiction, etc. Just as we ask Jesus to deliver us from wild fires and storms, so we must ask Him to deliver us, too, from devilish ideologies.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, January 28, 2024

Fri, 26 Jan 2024 19:35:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, January 21, 2024

Fri, 19 Jan 2024 18:59:00 GMT

Last Sunday, I attempted to demonstrate that the Ordinary time season is not ordinary , rather “work season.” As you listen to this Sunday’s readings, the picture begins to unfold. Consistent with what the farmer does as he prepares to go to farm or a surgeon preparing to enter the theater or the lawyer who puts together a convincing argument to win the oncoming case, we hear from the first reading that after hesitating, Jonah made ready and went to Nineveh. Meanwhile, Jesus set before Himself the thrust of His public ministry to which the proclamation of the God’s reign and call to conversion stand prominent. Jonah, who was a type of Jesus, had the same message for the Ninevites—repent or perish.

Like a diligent farmer, Jesus starts to gather His instrument of work; similar to the lawyer who collects pages and pages of case files and legal precedents. The fisherman prepares the boat, fishing rods and net, and the student finds a quiet location in the library for study. What does Jesus do? He goes in search of companions. Soon, he’s seen along the Sea of Galilee. He knows that fishermen are the crop of people who can do this very patient work of fishing souls for the kingdom. He calls two of them, then another two, who all magically abandon everything, including family to follow Him. In subsequent readings, we’ll find Him calling Matthew, a tax collector, who will join in collecting, not taxes, but the hidden treasures of the kingdom in his gospel account. He calls Paul, a tent maker, to build spiritual shelters for the outcast. He calls Luke, the doctor, because there’re lots of souls to bring to, what Pope Francis refers to as the field hospital . He calls you—for your unique role—perhaps to use your voice in praise of Him or your feet to visit the sick and downtrodden, feed the poor at the homeless shelter, the dying and the bereaved in need of comforting words.

Every one of us has been led to this ocean of divine treasure where we encounter a sublimely attractive man—Jesus, who, kind of, seizes hold of us and lovingly chains us to His boat, like He did the first people he called. We are people from varied backgrounds—in law, government, healthcare, education, aviation, finance, communication, motherhood, music and entertainment—rich and poor, mansion-dwellers and street people. We have varied skills that Jesus needs for the task of evangelization. The work is not done yet. All of us must join hands with Peter and the other apostles to cast the net across the rivers of the world to bring in souls that will enter the boat journeying to heaven. “Mysterious fishes,” the great Church Father Tertullian calls them, “generated by the waters of baptism.”

Anyone who feels that the Ordinary time season holds no great significance must do a rethink. This season is when we return from Bethlehem where we beheld a baby born in a manger; even from Calvary where we saw a Man of Sorrow, the Lamb of God taking away the sin of the world. We join Him in the task of fishing souls for God, healing those wounded by sin (including ourselves), instructing those straying from the truth about the inscrutable wisdom of God, and serving the poor who are marginalized by our economic system that favors the affluent and demonizes the weak.

Over the years, many “fishers of men” have shown great zeal. They include men and women, priests, religious, nurses, doctors and others of various professions who have stationed the “Bark of Peter” at the various oceans and rivers where the fish are mired in the poisonous waters of ignorance, unbelief, and relativism. Our own Blessed Stanley Rother sailed all the way to Guatemala to fish the people of Santiago Atitlan. You won’t need to go that far. Right here in the streets of McAlester, in the offices where you work are innumerable souls that seek rescue by Christ. Find them and bring them home.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, January 21, 2024

Fri, 19 Jan 2024 18:59:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, January 14, 2024

Fri, 12 Jan 2024 23:17:00 GMT

First, let’s set the course for the abrupt change in our liturgical taste or style today. You still remember that last Sunday was the Epiphany of the Lord : we learned about Christ’s manifestation to the nations and the visit of the Magi. Monday became the feast of the Baptism of the Lord . As John baptized Jesus in the Jordan River, it marked a new manifestation of the trinity of Persons in the Godhead, first revealed at creation when we heard those sacred words: “Let US make man in OUR image” (Genesis 1:26). The Third Person in the Godhead, namely, the Spirit descended upon Jesus—the Second Person of the trinity; and then, the voice of the Father (the First Person in the Godhead) was heard from heaven: “You are my beloved Son” (Mk 1:11). Jesus’ baptism ratifies the incarnation or Christmas event with the words of the Father urging us to “Listen to Him” (Mk 1:11). And with that feast of the Lord’s Baptism, Christmas season came to a close. Next, we are ushered into Ordinary Time season, which began last Tuesday.

Those last words of the Christmas season: “Listen to Him,” coming from the Father sets the tone for the season we call Ordinary time . Typically, the feast of the Baptism of the Lord not only concludes the Christmas season, it also ushers in the Ordinary Time season. This explains why we call the liturgical cycle “an end that escorts a new beginning.” If the feast of the Lord’s Baptism falls on a Sunday, it becomes, too, the “First Sunday in Ordinary Time.” Consequently, the liturgy designates no Sunday as “First Sunday in Ordinary Time;” instead today is the Second Sunday in Ordinary time .

What makes this season “ordinary?” I guess, the question should rather be: “Is the Ordinary Time season ordinary?” Why would the Church assign or give us a season that has no special quality or interest, somewhat “inferior?” Before searching for any answers, we need to establish that prior to the liturgical reforms of Vatican II , the season we call Ordinary Time went by the name “Pre-Pentecost and Post-Pentecost” (before and after Pentecost). In the Tridentine Rite, it still goes by that name, and not Ordinary time. Suffice it to say that the Ordinary Time season isn’t ordinary at all. Let’s rather call it “work-season.” And what do I mean by that? Ordinary Time is the time when we put into work, into practice the command of the Father to “listen to His Son” (those words with which we concluded the Christmas season). Using the work analogy, this is consistent with what farmers do during the farming season—they diligently work to cultivate the land, manure, weed, and grow the seed (or the school year when students get into learning and studying their materials). Farmers work hard to ward-off pests and locusts that attack the crop, and have their eyes set on the plow.

If you take it to the spiritual plane, Ordinary Time is the season we cultivate the garden of our soul, grow seeds of salvation, and manure them through the practice of virtue. We work diligently to ward-off the pests of sin and the locusts of indifference and relativism that would attack the soul whenever a believer leaves the garden of her or his soul untended. Ordinary Time is the time we keep our ears tuned to the Jesus frequency , judging every activity of our life, whether at home or at the workplace, through the purview of the life of Jesus, with the Church always pointing us in the right direction.

We must then have an open ear to listen when God calls, just as Samuel heard Him in the first reading. In a world of tones and noises, 24-hour TV coverage, where flattery and manipulation of the word occurs nonstop and eroticism is sold without bargain, the Christian man or woman needs an Eli whom he or she must consult for enlightenment. The Christian needs a John the Baptist to point to him the Lamb of God. When confused about voices calling, “Rita, Rita,” “Robert, Robert,” look to the Church to show you the real face of Christ.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr B, January 14, 2024

Fri, 12 Jan 2024 23:17:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Epiphany of the Lord, Yr B, January 7, 2024

Fri, 05 Jan 2024 19:23:00 GMT

We do possess minds capable of peering into the mysteries of creation and our existence, but often lack the fortitude to truly and deeply investigate them. We gloss over some daily events and natural occurrences simply because we’re so used to experiencing them. For example, we take for granted the appearance of the light every morning as the sun rises. However, if you pay a bit more attention, you can notice a number of stars across the sky, right before dawn. Meanwhile, though you can’t yet see the sun, its rays, like orange coronets, can be glimpsed on the eastern horizon. If you keep gazing, you’ll find the stars disappear one after another until only one star appears to remain. Astrophysicists tell us that that’s not an actual star; rather, it is the planet Venus. The sun towers over Venus to reveal the light of day. Hence, Venus is called the Morning Star , which gives way so that the bright light of the sun might illumine the day.

More than 2000 years ago, three wise men—also called Magi or astrologers—set out on an expedition in which an unusual star they saw directed them. It’s very puzzling to imagine how they came up with the idea that the star meant anything at all, talk-less, pulling them away from their homes to follow the star to travel unimaginable distances. And yes, there were musings about the birth of some important king; yet, you can’t fail to admire their faith and tenacity. Perplexing, too, is the fact that rather than lead them straight to the birthplace of the king, the star led them to the palace of King Herod to make inquiries about the new king. It took concerted research and scripture study by the scribes—at the urging of Herod—to reveal that Bethlehem was definitely the birthplace in quest. Upon leaving the king’s palace, the guiding star reappeared and preceded them to the precise location of the birth. The star then disappeared the moment the Magi saw the new king, just as Venus gives way to the sun upon its arrival.

Many natural phenomena lead the human mind to inquire about the mysteries of our existence. Philosophy and science, like the star that led the Magi, awaken the human mind to the search of these mysteries. But the ultimate truth of our existence cannot be revealed by a mere star or by natural science. Often, science aligns with the powerful of the world, in palaces and studded shelters in search of relevance. Man who is “capax entis” (capable of being) only because he is “capax dei” (capable of God) must recognize that his search for meaning transcends the mere physical and must lead to the door of revelation—just as the Magi sought the help of scribes who searched the scriptures to reveal their ultimate destiny. Paradoxically, upon leaving the house of Herod, the star reappeared—revealing that philosophy and theology, science and revelation, faith and reason aid each other and are necessarily married to one another. It was the star, like science that led the wise men to Herod. But scripture, in turn, aided the star to discover its ultimate destination, so that the Magi could arrive Bethlehem. And just as the daylight makes all other small lights and stars fade, the moment the Radiant Sun (Jesus) was revealed, the star disappeared.

The so-called war that science or reason wages against faith is absurd. Reason devoid of its marriage to faith would leave us still in darkness or at best delay in us the rising of the true Morning Sun. Scientific knowledge devoid of its relations to faith would only create anarchy, chaos, and lust for power and possession, which are the bequests of the house of Herod. Modern scientific knowledge divorced from morality has steadily produced human carnage. Such forms of learning are truly foolish which do not lead to Christ, to the crib of Bethlehem where we experience true light. Epiphany or Manifestation is the feast calling us to follow the wise counsel of the Magi who were wise because they knew that that did not know everything. The wise still seek Jesus.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Epiphany of the Lord, Yr B, January 7, 2024

Fri, 05 Jan 2024 19:23:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Holy Family of Jesus Mary & Joseph, Yr B, December 31, 2023

Fri, 29 Dec 2023 18:11:00 GMT

When in the late seventies and early eighties, the program: “The American Family: An Endangered Species?” aired on NBC, one in four American families had the traditional family structure, “only” 40% of marriages ended in divorce, and there were six million single parent families. Think that was bad? You’ll be shell-shocked by today’s statistics, which I’ll spare you. But consider that in those eighties, gay marriage hadn’t become law and it would have been unheard of to think one could choose his or her gender; threesomes and foursomes were still called “deviant behaviors.” Fast forward to 2023 and you meet the actual shock, where a recent Church document suggests the idea and possibility of blessings for people in irregular union and same-sex couples. This is the modern family.

Against this backdrop, we’re presented with the Holy Family of Nazareth. It may sound strange to contemporary people that family situations such as Mary, Joseph and Jesus had was possible. It wasn’t all pretty and dandy for them. In fact, they not only contended with most of the messiness, complexity and worries of today’s average family, but actually went over and beyond mere life challenges. For example, we love to put up the Nativity Scene in our heated and air-conditioned living rooms often forgetting that the stable of Bethlehem was cold and uncomfortable, smelt of animal feces and lacked doctors and nurses to aid in child delivery. The Holy Family was so destitute that at the Presentation of Jesus in the temple, the family could only afford two pigeons—offering of the poor. Joseph was a mere carpenter, barely able to put food on the table. While we cry and fret about bad politicians, we have not been targeted by government to the extent that we’ll have to escape to another country on foot to reside as fugitives for a number of years. The Holy Family was besieged with fear, sorrow and disappointments, yet held on hope and resigned to God’s plan. We too may face difficulties and uncertain situations, and have the Holy Family as our mentor.

Today’s feast can help us reflect on the nature of the earthly family to which the Son of God chose to identify and become a member. It also provides a lens for us when we truly reflect on the adverse effects that contemporary ethos has brought upon the family. This year marks the 55th anniversary of the encyclical Humanae Vitae by Pope Paul VI. I have no other word to describe Pope Paul VI than properly call him Prophet Paul VI, given that everything he predicted about the family faced with a vehement contraceptive culture has come true. Prophet Paul VI warned of four resulting trends: 1) a general lowering of moral standards throughout society, 2) a rise in infidelity, 3) a lessening of respect for women by men, and 4) a coercive use of reproductive technologies by governments. Do you need any argument to show that modern society has acquiesced to lower moral standards that are not just tolerated but radically enforced as the norm? You become a social outcast today if you do not accept abortion, homosexuality, gender fluidity, cohabitation, and pornography. About rise in infidelity and lessening of respect for women, we need look no further than the myriad of allegations of sexual exploitation of women roiling Hollywood—at long last—and politicians presently. The pill was supposed to free everybody from sexual slavery, but look what it has given society—a greater percentage of men and women registered as sex-offenders, sexual molestation and exploitation of children and women, a deadening of the male libido in relation to real women, and solace in porn and online adultery. The HHS Mandate was a clear example of the coercive enforcement of the contraceptive culture by government as predicted by Prophet Paul VI. As we enter a new temporal year, we pray for a recovery of the priceless jewel of family life seen in the family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Holy Family of Jesus Mary & Joseph, Yr B, December 31, 2023

Fri, 29 Dec 2023 18:11:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 24, 2023

Fri, 22 Dec 2023 20:48:00 GMT

A four-year old boy has heard many references to our Blessed Mother as the Virgin Mary and on their way from Mass he asks his mom, “Mom, what is a virgin?” Stunned by the question the mother struggles to find an appropriate answer for her boy: “A virgin is, a virgin is, eeehm….” The six year old daughter cuts in, “I know it, I know it… A virgin is a lady who eats all her vegetables” (Robinson). Yes, there’s a sense in which Mary is Vegan Mary. Her form of veganism is that of one who refrains from the exploitation of the animal nature while focusing on personal purity. We see that virginity is truly environmentally friendly.

John Wu, a Chinese author, has a passage in his book Beyond East and West which tells a true story of a type of relationship: “My wife and I had never seen each other before our wedding. Both of us...were brought up in the old Chinese way. It was our parents who engaged us to each other, when we were barely six years of age. In my early teens, I came to know where her house was. I had an intense desire to have a glimpse of her. In coming back from school, I sometimes took a roundabout way so as to pass by the door of her house…. But I never had the good fortune to see her.” Wu’s account sounds incredible to a western mind. But Wu says he could understand why his western friends found the system arcane, but asked whether they chose their parents, brothers and sisters. And he says, “Don’t you love them just the same?”

Some newcomers to western countries experience a certain kind of culture shock at how westerners handle courtship and other forms of relationship. An African priest studying in Germany was invited for dinner and introduced to the family. The mother first introduced her girls, 22 year old Brigitte and 17 year old Annette, and two boys seated close to each of the girls. One was Brigitte’s fiancé and the other was Annette’s boyfriend. The priest was stunned and said in his heart, “No wonder westerners are boldly promiscuous.”

Wu’s story can help us understand a bit the relationship between Joseph and Mary in today’s Gospel. Jewish marriage customs included three stages. The first stage was the engagement in which the couple’s parents or a matchmaker played a significant role. In fact, the young couple often didn’t know each other prior to engagement. I hardly watch movies but someone told me that the movie Fiddler on the Roof depicted this arrangement, celebrated in the song “Matchmaker.”

The second step was the betrothal at which the couple will get the chance to know each other for a period of about one year. The betrothal stage seals the marriage bond. At this stage, it would be proper to call the couple man and wife, though they wouldn’t as yet live together. Separation after betrothal can only be effected through divorce. The third step was the marriage proper after which the couple move in together and marriage consummated.

Mary and Joseph were still at the second stage of the Jewish marriage customs when Mary was discovered to be pregnant. Jewish law condemns her to death by stoning. If you were Joseph, what would you have done? Step out of the relationship, call a press conference and deliver her up to the law. You don’t want to cover up such indiscretion. Or, would you?

But here is the difference between Joseph and us: He knew that while the truth must be told, not all supposed truth would do the best good. He was led to understood that it was God’s plan to have our Blessed Lord adopted into the human family through him so that He, in turn, could adopt humanity to His Father’s family. Fulton Sheen explains further that by Joseph’s cooperation, the reputation of the Blessed Mother and Her Child was preserved; for if Mary had become a mother without a spouse, it would have exposed the mystery of Christ’s birth to ridicule and would become a scandal to the weak.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 24, 2023

Fri, 22 Dec 2023 20:48:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 15, 2023

Fri, 15 Dec 2023 19:04:00 GMT

Some years ago, I received a subpoena from the DA’s office in Tulsa. Needless to say that it made me very uncomfortable to think that I should stand before a jury and judge to testify about someone’s life. I fought the subpoena with my attorney; and twice it was rescinded, or as they say in courts—“quashed.” These came after my lawyer engaged the state’s attorney before the judge and argued successfully on why I should not testify. But the DA wasn’t done with me. When I received a third subpoena, I was furious and really wondered why the DA was “after me,” knowing fully well that they had enough evidence to convict the criminal they were after. Later, I learned through watching Court TV that they were looking for a character witness whom they believed would produce that deciding evidence to tip the scales of justice the direction they desired. I learned that in many court cases, a good character witness is invaluable.

Whether we like it or not, we are character witnesses for Christ in many ways. We carry His message to the world by the manner in which we live. Though some say that they keep their religious convictions “private,” more often than not, we show, even without knowing it, that these are not private things. This explains why we vote, dress and speak the way we do. Today, traditionally called “Gaudete” or Rejoice Sunday , we are reminded the extent to which joy is a fundamental aspect of the witness we bear to Christ. Faith is something pretty serious, which calls for deep reflection, somber attitudes, and penitential discipline. Yet, the rose vestments, the third Advent candle of today, and the words of all the readings strike a very important note about why we should rejoice. Joy is the Christian’s vocation. It is, according to the Baltimore Catechism, that for which we were created: to know, love, and serve God in this world, and to REJOICE with Him forever in heaven. So Isaiah says in the first reading: “I rejoice heartily in the Lord, in the Lord is the joy of my soul.” St. Paul urges us: “Rejoice always” and “Do not quench the Spirit.” Pope Francis gave the title Evangelium Gaudium , meaning, Joy of the Gospel to his first encyclical as pope, inviting all Christians to shed the weariness of the world and focus on the joy that lies ahead, the hope to which we are called.

It can be challenging to bring in the gospel perspective of joy in a world ridden with worries, anxieties and fears. Each day brings another news of terror in the horizon, wild fires, storms and natural disasters, not to talk about the hateful rhetoric being cooked and served in many of our colleges and by pressure groups of different shades. The media on their part do not fail to paint grim pictures of the collapse of civilization. How often do you hear that we have only a few years to a catastrophic collapse of the world, unless we embrace one ideology or the other? All are efforts to stifle the joy in which we are invited to share, especially this season the Savior’s birth.

John the Baptist balances the equation by voicing out the true reason why we miss out in the joy of the Lord. He’s a voice. What does the voice say? Reform your lives. Reform and reconciliation bring healing and open the ducts for the joy of the Lord to penetrate. There’s no better way for us to experience this reform than through the Sacrament of Reconciliation which I urge you to make an essential part of your Advent practice and Christmas preparation. The Christmas tree will not gleam, if your soul is—to use a term I learned from baseball— Slugging it Out with hateful thoughts and feelings against a brother, sister or neighbor. The Christmas lights may glow, but an unrepentant heart won’t bask in the true joy that the true Light of the World, Jesus, brings. After the lights are taken down and returned to the attic, the fake trees to their boxes, and the live ones to trash, the only thing that will remain is the joy you have in the Lord. Make room for the Lord today.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 15, 2023

Fri, 15 Dec 2023 19:04:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 8, 2023

Fri, 08 Dec 2023 21:21:00 GMT

John the Baptist’s calling was to be the intersection between the old and the new covenant—ending one and introducing the other. Remember in Mathematics, the theory of intersection where two sets A and B meet. The intersection contains all the elements of A that also belong to B but no other elements. Picture the point of intersection in our streets. The reason we have stop signs or traffic lights is to ensure that we exercise due diligence about the flow of traffic. Without traffic rules and where no traffic lights and stops exist, there’s chaos. Impatient and rude people will run into each other and the flow of traffic will be stalled for hours. In the divine economy, John the Baptist was sent as a traffic-light or stop-sign for God’s people, to ensure that the passage from old to new covenant was smooth. God was the chief traffic controller, but John would stand as the sign, the voice, and the indicator showing us where the Controller wants us to go. In that way, he was the precursor of the prophesied Emmanuel, called to make the traffic efficient for His coming. John’s message today is to reform our lives in order to prepare for the reign of God. With prophet Isaiah in the 1st reading, he admonishes us to flatten the hills, fill up broken precipices and straighten the ways twisted with curves. Ignoring the words of John the Baptist tantamount to running a red light and putting one’s spiritual life in danger.

At any given time, there’s an average of 9,728 planes carrying about 1.3 million people in the US air space, yet we never hear of planes colliding. The reason airplanes don’t collide mid-air is because pilots depend on air traffic controllers who expeditiously separate planes by ensuring that they are going different directions at different altitudes. Even those flying the same direction receive the instruction to keep the same speed. If you’re shown a radar screen of air traffic around Chicago O’Hare between 6 to 7am when traffic is heaviest, you’ll see eastbound planes at certain altitudes and west and northbound planes at another. Imagine what would result if pilots ignore the traffic control and go any direction they wish. If you can, then you’ve got the real sense of the consequences of sin and disobedience. The spiritual landscape is equivalent to air traffic. Pilots often do not know where other planes are, though planes have transponders that alert them about the proximity of another and issue warnings. In the spiritual world, not only do we lack proper vision of the dangers that lie in the horizon, we have an enemy whose sworn project is convincing us to ignore the traffic controller. When that is the case, we run a great risk of colliding with the spiritual forces of darkness. With renewed urgency, modern society is telling us to follow our feelings and ignore the traffic controller. That is how we got to the modern loss of the sense of sin.

St. John Paul II often lamented this loss of the sense of sin, especially in Western societies. The victim status appears to be the prevailing moral attitude to which a great many have succumbed, allowing the moral agent to blame others for every ill and refuse to take responsibility for moral choices. This explains the quagmire we face about the coming of Christ. His name Jesus was given to Him “because He will save His people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21). But how can He save them if they do not admit they’re sinners? Where there is loss of the sense of sin, Christ’s work of salvation turns into meaningless ritual. It’s no surprise then that Advent is no longer observed as a penitential season. The only preparation that many do for Christmas is buying gifts and putting out decorations. By the time Christmas comes, they’ve got tired of it and will start putting away the decorations. Life becomes an endless cycle of celebration of our desires. But if we examine our personal and collective consciences, we won’t fail to see how much there is in our lives that needs the saving, healing, and restoring intervention of the Emmanuel. Listen to the Voice of John the Baptist.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 8, 2023

Fri, 08 Dec 2023 21:21:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 1, 2023

Fri, 01 Dec 2023 19:55:00 GMT

You may have forgotten how many predictions of the end of the world we’ve had in recent times. Still fresh in my mind was a prediction by David Meade, a self-acclaimed scientist who was convinced from his scientific readings that an unknown planet Nibiru , would appear and destroy the Earth on September 23rd. The date was later changed to October 15 and then to November 19. I haven’t checked to see his latest revision of the date. Of course, none of those predictions came true nor would any such spurious prediction ever come about. The only prediction that happened was the beginning of a new liturgical year, given by the Church, today December 3rd. And today, we enter a new phase in our relationship with our God as we prepare to reenact that saving mission through His Son whose twofold coming we await—first, this Advent, and second, His final coming as judge of the world, which we cannot predict, but must spend every day of our life in joyful anticipation.

As indicated last Sunday, we concluded our reading or rather “living” liturgically the gospel of Matthew, and today we begin reading and taking our cue from the gospel of Mark. Hence, Mark will be the captain steering the ship in our spiritual oasis as we journey through a more intentional living of our relationship as disciples of the Lord. A peculiar characteristic of Mark’s gospel is its brevity—he goes straight to the point. On this first Sunday of Advent, he emphasizes the word “watch,” exhorting us to be constantly alert because we cannot make predictions about the Lord’s coming. This sounds like a sober and salutary way to enter into the season of Advent and aligns with the origin and import of the word Advent, which means “coming.”

Each of us must have waited for something or someone—an important guest—to arrive. Even the most carefree among us would try to do some cleanup, get rid of unwanted stuff, and maybe bring in something new, apply some air-freshener to make more inviting the room where we’ll put our guest. In marketing, what drives the “sale” is the need to update inventory. So, toward the end of the year, big businesses offer for sale at incredibly reduced prices items they want to replace, in order to make room for the new. When I watched last Black Friday at the scramble for cheap items, I wished we could learn to remove from our spiritual storeroom items clogging them which are no longer needed, to ensure progress in our spiritual journey. The import of Advent is to help us update our inventory of spiritual goods. In order to make room for a fresh outpouring of love, compassion, virtue, integrity, order and composure, we’ll have to get rid of the hatred that we have harbored, the gossip and uncharitable words that have become part of our everyday language, our cranky and irritable words that cause fights, the greed that impoverishes others, and the pride that makes us feel a need to push others aside. We can gather these together, and as we take out our trash and deposit them in the garbage bins (every Friday) for disposal by the city trash collectors, so we can bring the piles of garbage in our souls to sacramental confession. Priests are true Church trash collectors who, in the confessional, nicely gather our piles of garbage and carry them to the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world.

Jesus, as well as Paul, asks us to watch, be alert, take a good look at our inner self, wake up from our spiritual stupor, cast away deeds of darkness, be sober and calmly wait for the Lord’s return. As we navigate today’s dangerous spiritual terrain infested with landmines of moral relativism, emboldened display of evil, lies, and deceit, we need to have our grips firmly on our steering wheel, our eyes set clearly on the road to the kingdom, and every faculty of ours purified by grace so we may avoid a deadly spiritual crash. Many souls have crashed, and some irreparably; so be careful and listen to the admonition!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent, Yr B, December 1, 2023

Fri, 01 Dec 2023 19:55:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Yr A, November 26, 2023

Sat, 25 Nov 2023 10:58:00 GMT

The idea of Christ as king doesn’t sit well with people formed in Western democracies that regard kings, queens and princes as people unduly privileged. We detest such privileges counting them at odds with modern age’s radical equality so sacrosanct that it has become a winning formula for any argument in the public square. For example, equal rights have to include: marriage equality, gender equality, bathroom equality, job equality, housing equality—down to the wire. Part of the effort to design radical equality involves the resolve to debunk history’s great personalities, find their faults, judge them evil, and tear down monuments erected to their honor. Observe that currently, so-called leaders of thought make mockery of leadership; and like owls, awake at night, they search out the pitfalls of leaders; and should they find none, they make up—through the connivance of the media—some faults which become center-points of late-night shows and amusement. And this is what living in a free society has become.

Do you see why the feast of Christ the King doesn’t square well with modern mentality? Or maybe it does. Few years ago, an atheistic author made up stories about Jesus having a wife through whom He raised kids who formed the line of kings in France. Many were thrilled by the craziness, notwithstanding that the charade of a novel, The Da Vinci Code , was clearly tagged a fictional tale. It tells you the extent to which people crave absurd myths, legends and lies about Christ and how easily seeds of doubt about the Christian faith and the core truth about Christ are sown and swallowed by the gullible. Christ remains a sign of contradiction, as Simeon prophesied. Even those who hated him, like Herod, craved to see and hear him. Many who don’t believe in Him are still fascinated about His person and would crave to blurt out something about Him. If that is not dominion, tell me what else is. Christ truly rules the hearts and minds of both those who know Him as king and those who pretend they have another.

Christ’s kingship is celebrated this Sunday, the last of the 52 Sundays that make up the Church’s liturgical year, and the 34th Sunday of the Ordinary time season. The Church’s division of her liturgical year into three cycles A, B, C is probably the most biblical piece of the Church’s life, coming directly from the three synoptic gospels—Matthew, Mark and Luke, each representing cycles A, B, C, respectively. Though you may have been told by your Evangelical friends that Catholics don’t read the bible, the truth is that you actually do read or listen a lot to the bible, especially if you attend Mass every Sunday. Today, we concluded our reading of the gospel of Matthew—not chronologically but liturgically. This means that our reading of Matthew was more a lived experience than a reading experience; if you like, we lived Matthew more than we read him.

Today’s gospel speaks to us about the Final Judgment , putting before our focus the Four Last Things—Death, Judgment, Heaven or Hell , among which three will be our lot. The parable of the Sheep and the Goats reveals the central issues on which judgment would be based. After all is said and done, we shall be judged based on our commitment to charitable acts—what the Church refers to as the Corporal Works of Mercy . The parable has Jesus telling us that He disguises Himself as the poor, the stranger, the homeless, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner in His everyday encounter with us. Every charitable overture—or lack of it—we make or refuse to make toward the weak is an encounter with Him. The sacred playground for divine encounter is the arena of the poor. Pope Francis’ entire pontificate has been a reminder to all Christians of this shocking truth. How well are you responding to this demand of your Lord and King?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, Yr A, November 26, 2023

Sat, 25 Nov 2023 10:58:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, November 19, 2023

Fri, 17 Nov 2023 18:17:00 GMT

Some people claim they’re mad at God. For one lady, it was because God hasn’t heard her prayer to win the state lottery—even though she hasn’t for once purchased the lottery ticket. You see, you can’t just wish for stuff to happen and it happens. God isn’t going to spoon-feed you, give you a nice shower and tuck you to bed. You must apply yourself, too.

Experts say that many use as little as only 10 percent of their natural endowments. Imagine how much better we’ll be if we try to apply even half of our talent. Who would tolerate their vehicle operating at 10 percent of its capacity? Talents are given to be used and not abused, hidden away, locked inside a hutch or buried in a clean cloth. Today’s parable asks us to be positive, be proactive, take action and avoid fearful or lazy inaction. As an eschatological parable, heaven is presented as the prize for our stewardship of God’s gifts, not just idle faith. The motif of this story coupled with the use of the word “talent” in the storyline led to the revision in English language of the use of the term “talent” to describe natural ability or endowment. Talent originally meant “a measure of weight.” A talent, as used in the passage, is equivalent to 15 years’ wage—thus a huge sum. Not a single one of us is without a talent, which we ought to put to use by making the choice to apply ourselves.

The Master in today’s parable praises the first and second servants for using their talent but reprimands the third for inaction, which he described as wicked and lazy. But let’s examine this little guy who received one talent. From the beginning of the story, we learn that he wasn’t a genius, but a man of little ability. Therefore, the Master, not wanting to leave him empty-handed, gave him one talent, corresponding to his ability. Observe that his gift was small, making his task the easiest and his responsibility the least. His neglect is therefore reckoned most inexcusable. About him, Fulton Sheen says: the refusal to help because we cannot be leaders; the refusal to do anything out of the miserable fear of being mediocre or because we cannot do much is what is called in spirituality—acedia or spiritual laziness. Acedia impoverishes life at its core, resulting in crass tepidity about loving God and neighbor. Laziness in doing good is equivalent to premature death. To withhold or neglect any help we can give because it won’t be much is to cuddle misery and hopelessness. Today’s neglect cannot be compensated tomorrow without neglecting tomorrow’s work. If violence slays thousands, supine negligence slays even millions (Sheen).

Are you a young man who would love to be a priest but afraid you cannot preach like Bishop Barron? Do you know a woman who loves to sing but won’t join the choir because she’s afraid she’s not gifted with a golden voice like Celine Dion? Such do-nothings are the first to wickedly complain about how horribly the choir sings or how badly priests preach. Like the lazy servant, they become wicked the moment they start blaming or blurting off accusations, like: “I know you’re a demanding man.” The sharp rebuke against the lazy servant is a warning to us that if we leave our garden untended it would be overgrown with weeds. Also, we never receive new graces until we have used up those we have.

Did you notice that the Master rewarded the servants not in proportion to the talents they made? Rather, because they made effort, each received the same compliment: “Well done...enter into your Master’s joy” (Matt 25:21). The great Oklahoman, Booker T. Washington is quoted as saying: “Success is to be measured not so much by the position one reached in life as by the obstacles one overcame while trying to succeed.” Apply yourself, use your talent in gratitude to the Giver, and throw in the net for a catch. The Lord will grant you increase, bringing you home to heaven.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, November 19, 2023

Fri, 17 Nov 2023 18:17:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, November 12, 2023

Fri, 10 Nov 2023 18:11:00 GMT

As the liturgical year winds down, the Church uses the imagery of a wedding feast to teach about the kingdom of God. The Jewish marriage setting very closely mirrors the Wedding Feast of the Lamb that is to come at the end. The setting seems pretty familiar to me. When my brother married in 1984, I was only a teenager, but I remember that my father and some elders from my kindred left early morning on a rented bus to my sister-in-law’s town, about 80 miles away. They spent the entire day negotiating the bride price and a ton of other requirements that follow the marriage contract. When they got back, we had already gone to bed. Imagine if they had gone on foot or rode camels as was the case during Jesus’ time—it would probably have taken a few days. I still remember that upon their return, the girls waited to welcome the new bride with a dance from our entrance gate. The ceremony is brief because that night is the bride’s night when the marriage is consummated: the bride meets the groom in the marriage act for the first time. The gate is locked after the bride and groom enter to keep away troublemakers, especially the boys who hang around for free drinks and to flirt with the dance girls. The maidens’ spectacular dance (nkwa-umu-agbogho) with the bride is her last dance as a maiden. By daybreak, she’s no longer a girl: having become deflowered, she’s ushered into motherhood. She joins the mothers’ own dance— “nkwa-nwite,” as some call it.

Today’s parable explains that virginity, though esteemed, isn’t a passport to heaven. Because among the ten virgins, five are described as foolish, and five wise, it means that you need more than a vow, a title, religious vocation to be welcomed into God’s kingdom. In this parable, we see how Jesus weaves in the idea of being watchful, thinking ahead, having foresight, but above all, keeping within one’s reach the essential commodity for the kingdom, namely, ‘oil’ for our lamps. There’s no interpreting this oil literally because if it’s a material object that you can pull out of your pocket and share with someone else, then the wise virgins would be thought of as lacking in generosity. The oil must be an intangible quality like a living faith, abiding hope, and loving deeds, which St. Paul tells us are the things that remain, and matter most (I Corinthians13:13).

No doubt, it’s these virtues that Jesus presents today using the symbolism of ‘oil,’ an essential commodity widely sought after in that epoch for its lubricant effects and endurance. Before electricity, oil was used to light lamps, torches and the cooking stove. Oil also plays a pivotal role in our domestic life as cream, deodorants, and perfumes, not to mention its medicinal use. However one may want to tout the green revolution, we’ll still need oil to make parts of planes and cars, even the hybrids and the EVs, for without the lubricating engine oil, the wheels would clog and engines knock. Spiritually, oil confers holiness as seen in Exodus, Chapter 30, where God commanded Moses to use the chrism oil to consecrate Aaron, so that he and his sons will excel in holiness and whatever touches them will be holy. In Psalm 133, oil symbolizes harmony, unity or oneness. The Psalmist says: “How good and how pleasant it is for brothers to live in unity; it is like precious oil poured on the head.” And in Matthew 5:16, Jesus admonishes us to let our light shine before others that they may see our good deeds and glorify God; implying that we must always have in us the oil without which the light will not shine.

If faith is the lamp that the ten virgins carried, and hope is the endurance that kept them as they waited for the return of the bridegroom, love is the oil that the wise virgins possessed and the foolish ones lacked. As important as the lamp of faith is, it’s not needed for life in heaven, neither is hope—for in heaven, hope has already been realized through seeing God. Love alone leads us at last to the kingdom, and in love we shall live eternally with Love Himself.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, November 12, 2023

Fri, 10 Nov 2023 18:11:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, November 5, 2023

Fri, 03 Nov 2023 19:11:00 GMT

For the past several weeks, the evangelist, Matthew has focused on several run-ins that Jesus had with the Pharisees, Scribes, Herodians, and scholars of the law. Today, he shows that he has had enough of their calumny and goes on a vigorous attack of their perfidy. In very strong and unambiguous terms he castigates their hypocrisy and religious ostentation. What can be more damaging than summarizing someone’s behavior with the words: “Do what they tell you; but do not be guided by what they do: since they do not practice what they preach… Everything they do is to attract attention.” Add that to the tongue-lashing that the prophet Malachi gave the priests of his day and you’ll find many sitting in the pews saying: “Yes, tell them.”

We love to hear criticisms of other people, don’t we? It gives a certain glow of self-satisfaction to hear about the hypocrisy of, especially religious figures and other people in authority. Yes, Jesus appears a camper with us today, and with wit and perspicacity he takes up our cry against the vainglory, pretensions and hypocrisy of so-called religious leaders who lack authenticity and simple human heart. You must be especially pleased at how He mows down those we call Fathers in our Churches, aren’t you? Jesus’ rebuke can fan the fires of anticlericalism seated deep inside. Yet, such words are important because more than a few clergymen parallel the ostentatiousness in the Scribes and Pharisees. If we dare take a good look at the mirror, we can see in ourselves the portrait that Jesus paints about the Scribes and Pharisees. But before you go too far with stereotyping priests and other leaders, you—a baptized believer—better take a close look, too, at yourself. You may be surprised that in you also, lives the same portrait of a Pharisee. The mere fact that you feel that glow of self-satisfaction from Jesus’ criticisms of others betrays your feeling of mendacity and includes you in the portrait that Jesus draws.

Amidst all that gloom and villainy, our Lord counsels us not to be deterred by the flawed behaviors of the messengers. Their pitfalls, though posing some hindrance for faith, should not be an excuse for refusing to follow the truth of the message they bring. If you’re waiting for that perfect priest, missionary or preacher whose every word would match his deeds, in public and private, before you’ll believe, be ready to wait for a very long time; and be prepared to miss every opportunity for your spiritual advancement. Unfortunately, such gurus either do not exist or are hard to find. The truth can come from the most unlikely source and still remain the truth. God still can write with crooked lines. This might perhaps account for why Mother Teresa said that she would prefer as spiritual director a priest filled with insight than a holy priest. The ideal would be an insightful and holy priest. Even St. Paul recognizes knowing what he should do, but admits that his weaknesses prevent him from carrying out the good he desires; yet, he consistently enjoins all to strive for perfection (Rom 7:19).

The three pitfalls that Jesus observed in the Scribes and Pharisees, namely, binding heavy burdens on others, attracting attention to oneself, and seeking honorific positions, are in no way limited to priests. He was dissecting the clear self-centeredness in every human heart. The Stanford prison experiment and the popular Milgram experiment used to investigate the psychological effects of perceived power show that under strict conditions, most people will exert dominance over others, even when it’s uncalled for. Hence, we wear Phylacteries like the Pharisees when our bumper sticker, scapular, and other religious ornaments shout out, and are used to promote our status as religious people, rather than as guide and motivation to a sincere life of prayer. Our goal should always be to improve our standing before God rather than society.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, November 5, 2023

Fri, 03 Nov 2023 19:11:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 29, 2023

Fri, 27 Oct 2023 19:22:00 GMT

You can criticize leadership that’s not performing well; only let your criticism be constructive rather than make you sound disingenuous. About one past president, someone was quoted as saying: “The president could find a cure for cancer and his adversaries would say that he’s putting doctors and pharmacists out of work.” Another said: “He could walk across the Hudson River, and his adversaries would say: ‘See, we told you; he can’t swim!’” Some form of opposition could easily descend into gamesmanship and become utterly risible. By now you must have observed that Jesus, too, was a marked man with adversaries pacing and swirling all around him. Simon prophesied that He would be a sign of contradiction. But Jesus used opposition against Him to develop unassailable teachings.

Adding to the long list of Jesus’ adversaries in today’s gospel is a lawyer who injects a controversy about the hierarchy of laws, hoping that He’ll trip—as they do either in their direct questions or cross-examination. Living in America, you won’t think that 613 precepts are a lot of laws to observe. But for the Jew of Jesus’ time, that’s quite a burden, when you add them to the 10 commandments, all believed to be God’s will for Israel. Among these laws, 248 contain positive precepts (Thou shall) while 365 are negative (Thou shall not)—some of which we heard in today’s first reading. Several rabbinical schools tried to summarize these laws for easier comprehension. For example, the school of Rabbi Hillel the Elder taught: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole law, and all else is commentary.” The test posed by the scholar of the law to Jesus was to see if he’ll criticize any part of the law while presenting another as more cogent.

Jesus decided to apply positively Rabbi Hillel’s own summary: “You shall love the Lord your God..., and your neighbor as yourself.” As the originator of the law, He combines all the commandments into a statement and adds that on the two commandments—love of God and love of neighbor—hang the whole law and prophets. The key expression here is found in this verb krematai (“hang or depend”). Conceptualize a pole suspended by two ropes on each end on which is mounted a piñata at its center. The piñata hangs on the pole provided each end of pole is held tightly by the ropes. If the rope at either end gives way, the piñata falls. Or more simply, a bicycle can only ride on its two wheels. Remove one wheel and the bicycle is of no use. Jesus teaches that love of God and love of neighbor are like the two wheels of a bicycle or the two ropes holding the piñata in place. Remove one, and the other collapses.

This is classic teaching: You cannot love God without loving your neighbor; neither can you love your neighbor without loving God. Corroborating this teaching, St. John adds: “One who does not love the brother that he can see cannot love God, whom he cannot see” (I John 4:20). He also said: “The love of God cannot be in anyone who loves the world, because nothing the world has to offer—the sensual body, the lustful eye, the pride of possession—could ever come from God” (I John 2:15f). Jesus’ teaching counters the lie that is perpetrated each day in the society: that love is without obligation.

But that wouldn’t be the final statement Jesus makes about love. In John 13:34, He gave the mandatum novum , a new commandment. Loving your neighbor as yourself is no longer sufficient. He says, rather: “Love one another as I love you.” His sacrificial love on the cross becomes the paradigm for loving others; meaning that, love is not divorced from suffering. I think that just as it is law to stamp on certain products, the words: “This product may be harmful to health,” so we should have on marriage certificates that, “Love entails suffering,” and “The measure of love is to love without measure.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 29, 2023

Fri, 27 Oct 2023 19:22:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Nineth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 22, 2023

Fri, 20 Oct 2023 19:54:00 GMT

When kids go to hunt rabbits, their greatest luck comes when they see the rabbit run into its hole. It significantly increases their chances of catching their game. First, given that every rabbit hole has an escape route, the kids search out its escape route and close it. Second, they start digging from the entrance or simply introduce grassfire and smoke into the hole. 99 percent of the time, the rabbit is caught in its hole or as it scurries to exit. Hence, the term “rabbit hole” is used to refer to “a bizarre situation or environment from which it is difficult to extricate oneself.” Politicians masterfully employ that when they attack their opponent. They begin by praising the person’s achievement before going on the attack. It was from the Pharisees and Herodians that today’s politicians learned that tactic? Although, current politicians have developed less compunction about their vileness. They don’t ever pretend about hatred of their opponents.

The Pharisees and Herodians of today’s gospel thought that they caught Jesus in a rabbit hole with the question: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not; should we pay or should we not?” How people dreadfully opposed to each other can easily unite against a common ‘enemy;’ these enemies who don’t see eye to eye are willing to unite against Christ. The Psalmist prophesied: “The kings of the earth stood up, and the princes plot together, against the Lord and against his anointed” (Psalm 2:2). The well laid trap was to have Jesus answer either way and be caught either as traitor and impostor against his own people or a revolutionary against a sitting government.

Vacationers to England often visit the British Museum in Manchester inside of which is a Roman coin section. One can find displayed in this section a very shiny silver coin dating back to the time of Jesus—the coin used for commerce and tax to Rome for the inhabitants of almost all the nations of the world. It’s technically called the silver denarius. This was the coin that the Good Samaritan would have given to the innkeeper to care for the wounded traveler. The vineyard workers of the parable heard three weeks ago would have been paid with this same coin. The face side of the coin bears the image of Tiberius Caesar, with the inscription in Latin, “Tiberius Caesar Divi Augusti Filius Augustus Pontifax Maximus” (Tiberius Caesar, August Son of Divine Augustus, High Priest). The back side has the image of Livia, the queen mother of Tiberius seated and holding an olive branch.

The stunning response that Jesus gave: “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God” did not just silence his adversaries, it indicted them as the real impostors. By carrying the denarius on themselves they showed that they already had allegiance to Caesar and needn’t have someone advise them on that. But Jesus went ahead to answer and teach about the relationship between civic duty and religious duty. Caesar, Putin and Biden may be good or bad people, may know God or may not; just like Cyrus, King of Persia, and a pagan whom God used to deliver his people from Babylonian oppression. But is it okay to pay taxes to their government? You bet!

The street in front of your home and Highway 69 were paved with tax dollars. It’s also right to serve in the military, in the jury when called, in the city council or board of education, and above all to vote come November 4. This is giving Caesar what belongs to Caesar. But it is even more important to give to God His own share. And that is—ALL YOU HAVE AND ARE, ALL THERE IS, including Caesar. God always respects Caesar: after all, He gave him life and placed him as ruler. It’s always Caesar (government) who wants to take what belongs to God. If ever that conflict arises, as it often does, be sure to stand with God against any Caesar.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Nineth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 22, 2023

Fri, 20 Oct 2023 19:54:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 15, 2023

Fri, 13 Oct 2023 21:23:00 GMT

While his pastor was on vacation, a certain associate allowed a poor couple to have their wedding reception inside the Church. Reason: They couldn't afford the rent for the parish hall. Upon his return, some zealous parishioners who felt offended brought their concern to the pastor. Deeply infuriated, the pastor had this exchange with his associate: “How on earth would you allow people inside the Church to party, eat, drink and dance?” The associate responds: “Because they couldn’t afford $2,000 to rent the parish hall.” The parish priest goes on, “And you didn’t even have the wisdom to take the Blessed Sacrament out of the Church as this charade was going on?” The associate reminding him that what he calls the Blessed Sacrament was Jesus, said: “I needn’t take Him out; He too was part of a wedding ceremony (at Cana) where there was eating, drinking, and dancing.” Now, don’t expect Fr. Jo to grant you such a favor.

However, that God can invite us for a dinner doesn’t clearly meet our grasp. For some of us, God could invite us to prayer, Mass, confession, and the like, but not dinner where there’s eating and drinking, dancing and merriment. We’re raised with the idea that Mass is serious business, not a banquet; and the church should be preserved for appropriate events and liturgies. It therefore shatters our expectations to hear Isaiah in the first reading speak about God’s invitation to us on His Holy Mountain, where He will provide a feast of rich food and pure choice wines. Jesus echoes this same idea in the parable of the guests invited to a Wedding Banquet. Hence, there should be no remorse about our participation in the grand party called by the Lord.

Again and again, we’re reminded that the Christian assembly is a gathering of people called to a banquet, a feast, or as we call it during Mass, the Marriage Supper of the Lamb (Rev 19:7). In fact, the Church’s relationship with Jesus is understood as a “spiritual marriage” in which the Lord is the Bridegroom, and we, His bride . As such, we’re not mere invitees to the Wedding Banquet, but intrinsic part of the wedding feast. Refusing to show up tantamount to breaking an engagement to which we already consented, while still keeping the costly engagement ring. This explains why the no-show by the invited guests of the parable was perceived and treated as disloyalty.

The first acceptance of the invitation to the Wedding Banquet was made at our baptism. We went further to become sealed with the Holy Spirit when we received Confirmation, making us officers of God’s army in His militant Church. Hence, any rejection of His summons is an act of disloyalty. Those who serve in the military understand this well, and it goes to explain, too, why refusal to report for military duty is treasonous. When we sign an oath of allegiance, as we did during baptism, we surrender every aspect of our lives to the Lord. As such, we must let him rule our nights and days, workdays and rest days, including our vacations. We cannot elect to have Him as the Lord of our Sunday mornings while expelling Him in the afternoons of our life, from our socio-economic and political life, or the moral choices we make.

Today’s parable presents three possible kind of guests in which we can each fit ourselves—the absentee guests, the unready, and those prepared, present and ready for the feast. The absentee guests are those who have abandoned the faith and apostatized. If you wonder why one of the guests was kicked out for not wearing an appropriate outfit, look for the answer in the baptismal garment we received at baptism and recall the words said at the giving of the dress: “Bring this garment unstained into the everlasting life of heaven.” Indeed, while many received this garment, only a few meticulously keep it unstained. Be part of that few and start by dressing appropriately for Mass.

Reflection Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 15, 2023

Fri, 13 Oct 2023 21:23:00 GMT

Reflection Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 8, 2023

Fri, 06 Oct 2023 20:14:00 GMT

The greedy dog of Aesop’s Fables fits today’s gospel narrative of the greedy tenants. The fable of The Dog with a Bone , tells of a greedy dog that got hold of a bone and, in bid to enjoy the bone alone, decides to run as far away as he could. His flight finds him on a bridge over a stream, where he looks and sees his reflection and decides it’s another dog with a much fatter bone. He goes in pursuit of the “shadowy bone.” His own bone falls to the bottom of the river. Now, he has no bone.

Similarly, the wicked tenants of today’s gospel out of sheer greed and vicious degeneracy lost their jobs and their lives, just like Aesop’s greedy dog. But it wasn’t only the tenants of today’s gospel who turned hopelessly greedy. We who live in modern society, in bid to drive God out of our lives, our families, our schools, our public squares, and to declare unlimited freedom to enjoy uninhibited pleasure, have rather succeeded in inflicting pain and hopelessness to our existence. We, too, have lost our bone!

Today’s parable is among the line of parables that scholars categorize as “juridical parables” in which a prophet tells a story intended to draw judgment on the hearer(s) unto themselves. Recall Prophet Nathan’s story of the “Ewe Lamb ” that a rich man forcibly took from a poor man to entertain his guest. Through his response, David unwittingly drew judgment upon himself about his adultery and murder of Uriah (2 Samuel 12). The response by Jesus’ hearers to the enquiry asking their opinion about the proper measure to be taken by the owner of the vineyard in response to the wicked tenants, drew from them, in their own words, their own condemnation. In this case the answer that the evil tenants will be put to death and the vineyard leased to other tenants applies to them (the scribes and Pharisees) and all who are reckless with God’s gracious gifts.

We hear in today’s readings about the inevitability of judgment. Isaiah prophesies in the first reading that the vineyard of the Lord of Hosts is the house of Israel (or the Church). Vatican II calls the Church “a cultivated field… the tillage of God,” and teaches: “On that land the ancient olive tree grows whose roots are the prophets and in which reconciliation of Jews and Gentiles has been brought about and will be brought about again. That land, like a choice vineyard, has been planted by the heavenly cultivator. Yet the true vine is Christ who gives life and fruitfulness to the branches, that is, to us, who through the Church remain in Christ, without whom we can do nothing” (Lumen Gentium, 6). It’s not only the world which has refused to listen to God’s prophets and murdered and thrown His Son out of the vineyard. Even in Christian circles, the use of religion to bolster one’s ego and for monetary gain is part of the ‘dislodged gospel.’ As religion turns into big business with celebrity evangelists milking their flock out of every cent to maintain a life of luxury, the Lord’s vineyard is dramatically turned into a miracle mill. Our own Church is not spared either: from the highest to the lowest, alternate ecclesial bodies and teachings which seek various compromises with error emphasize only a part of the truth, forcing their way into the Church. Seeking a Christ of their own making, a political theology that emphasizes mercy without conversion, love without responsibility, and inclusion without structure is being advanced in tolerance and total vindication of evil.

But the true gospel land, the vineyard of the Lord, is an upside-down world where the lowly are the strong, the impoverished are the exalted, prestige and esteem are trifles; rather, integrity, kindness and compassion are supreme virtues. It is a topsy-turvy world where the powerless are brought to the table while the mighty tarry in a wasteland. As the pride of life, of power and pleasure seeks to wreak the Christ-principle within us, the words of St. Paul in the second reading—that we insist on whatever is pure, lovely, gracious, excellent, and worthy of praise (Phil 4:8)—should be strongly reaffirmed.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 8, 2023

Fri, 06 Oct 2023 20:14:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 1, 2023

Fri, 29 Sep 2023 22:51:00 GMT

No one should pray to have any of the two boys of today’s gospel for an ideal son. The first son surely needs a better lesson in obedience. Obedience does not begin with a ‘no.’ And for that other boy who thought he could fool his dad by saying yes, then goes his way playing around and refusing to honor his word—I have few words for him that I’ll prefer not to say or put in print. These are recalcitrant kids, the kind that quite a few families are churning out these days. Ideal children, the type you should want and raise are those who not only would say ‘yes’ but go on to let their deeds match their words. Hence, I choose to call today’s parable from Matthew 21:28-32, the “Parable of Two Bad Sons.”

Real good sons and daughters are hard to find; meaning, we’ll take whatever is good enough. Between the two bad boys, obviously riveted with inconsistencies, Jesus inquires, which of them you would rather have. I think that the inconsistency of the first son is tolerable because he showed some remorse, which is a step forward. On the other hand, the inconsistency of the second son, is clearly a copout, both conceited and deceitful. It’s like the politicians who, during campaign say all the right words that they do not intend to keep. Or like the Easter and Baptismal pledge to reject Satan and all his works, in so far as that is only the right thing to say, with little intention to carry it through.

So who is who in the parable of today? Jesus is the Ideal Son, who both said ‘yes’ and went on to obey. He carried out His Father’s wishes to the end; thus St. Paul refers to Him, in the second reading, as the one who “emptied himself...becoming obedient, even unto death on a cross” (Phil 2:8). Here is the Ideal Son whom everyone should emulate.

The first ’bad son’ represented by the publicans, tax-collectors and prostitutes have no illusions about their situation vis-à-vis God. They knew they were a minus-sign in relation to God. Their life was a ’no’ to God but they saw themselves at a distance from which they could glimpse the holiness of God. They made a U-turn, a metanoia, which found them acceptable to God. Ezekiel says about them in the first reading: “When a sinner renounces sin to become law-abiding and honest… he shall certainly live; he shall not die” (Ezekiel 18:28).

The second ‘bad son’ is really bad, and is found among the religious leaders of Jesus’ day, the scribes and Pharisees, who, so convinced of their possession of the vineyard (kingdom), fell prey to their delusion of uprightness, determining to remain as they were, while spending all their energy and zeal to coarse change in others. They knew the right words, were convinced about their possession of truth, clever in speaking and arguing about them, but couldn’t take an inward look at the stench in their lives that needed removal. They rather became so bent on proving that they are right that they would fail to hear, see, and carry out the simple will of God, which is love of Him and neighbor, would not listen to the voice of reason, or the clear voice of God, who is Jesus, the Son of God.

To which group of ‘bad sons’ do you belong—the group that has no fine words but demonstrated good deeds or the group with all fine words but no good deeds? The hero of the first group is St. Augustine. He professed no faith, refusing God and the Church, likewise prayer; but later overcame his hesitancy, turned a new leaf, becoming one of the greatest saints ever known to fallen humanity. Then there are those who have all fine words, perhaps come to Church often, shout out ‘Amen,’ wear multiple medals, that are a cover for their hatred, animosity, vile and bile of all kinds. How often do you hear someone proclaim herself as a good Catholic, but when faced with the demands of the faith, she chooses to respectfully disagree. Ezekiel, likewise, says about those hypocrites: “When the upright person renounces integrity to commit sin, he shall surely die.” May our ‘yes’ be consistent like that of Jesus, the Ideal Son!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, October 1, 2023

Fri, 29 Sep 2023 22:51:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 24, 2023

Fri, 22 Sep 2023 18:02:00 GMT

A labor dispute erupts in today’s gospel. Labor leaders express their dismay at the disproportionate manner in which the employer decides to compensate workers. “It’s not fair,” they grumbled at their employer, “for people who worked a full days-shift to be compensated same as those who worked merely an hour or two.” And any fair-minded person will agree with them. We value justice and fair-play, and hate to see people violate it, especially against us. For us, once the rules of the game have to be laid out, everyone must follow to the letters.

Maybe you have wondered like me, “Is life fair?” How is it fair for a child to be born with Down syndrome or with blindness, through no fault of theirs? Is life fair when some are born into wealth and royalty—like little Prince George whose first day at kindergarten drew out the paparazzi—while others are born in poverty or rescued from the dustbins, where their mothers dumped them. Some are tall and some are short; some pretty, and some not so pretty. Two friends get inebriated at the bar and charge on the wheels; one is pulled over by the Corps and charged with DUI, the other goes home and sleeps soundly. Two servers in a restaurant work the same number of tables, treat diners with equal courtesy, and one gets twice the amount of tips. Is it fair? A 45-year-old CEO’s compensation is greater than that of all 94-line workers put together… is it fair? A huge corporation in Wall Street goes under the rocks and government uses tax payers’ dollars to bail it out; a small business in Krebs goes under and no one pays attention. How fair is that? By now you must have started to agree with me that life isn’t fair.

But if life isn’t fair, at least, God should be fair. I’m sorry; He’s equally not fair—by our standards. It can be chattering to hear that God isn’t fair; hence, He says through Isaiah in the first reading: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, my ways are not your ways.” The difference between God’s thoughts and ways from ours is so huge that the only comparison worth explaining it is that between heaven and earth. The point is this: God isn’t (just) fair. He is rather good; He is merciful; He is loving; He is generous. I’m sure you’ll take goodness, loveliness and generosity over fairness, won’t you? If God were to treat us fairly and justly, many of us wouldn’t see the light of this day. He would have justly repaid us with death, the grave, and hell fire for our innumerable sins.

Our sense of fairness comes from an unredeemed and sublunary loci, seen in the resentment of the laborers of today’s gospel about the generosity of the vineyard’s owner. Hence, we often want to impose our short-sighted way of thinking on God. That, too, is idolatry. It is we who should unmake our rugged, fallen human nature to be like God, not the reverse. When you go beyond fairness in your dealings with others, then will you encounter a God who is generous, loving, kind, and merciful.

For anyone living in a capitalist society like ours whose sense of justice is guided by the rules of business contract and exchange, today’s gospel poses a huge challenge. Jesus does not, however, abrogate the valid principles of justice; rather, He goes beyond that to let us encounter the extravagant generosity in God, which the mere rules of Commerce and Economics would cheapen. If you try to live by the divine economy, it’ll be possible to endure the trials of life with hope in God’s goodness; it’ll be possible to have understanding with your spouse and seek to outdo him or her in generosity and forgiveness; you can give without counting the cost. Constantly comparing yourself with others and seeking fairness makes you resentful and envious like the workers of today’s parable. Focusing on God’s generosity makes you a joyful steward. According to T.S. Elliot, Jesus doesn’t want us to be people carefully measuring life with coffee spoons; He wants us to be loving, generous and big-hearted.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 24, 2023

Fri, 22 Sep 2023 18:02:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 17, 2023

Fri, 15 Sep 2023 19:47:00 GMT

Did you notice how Ben Sirach describes wrath and anger in today’s first reading? He says they’re hateful things; yet, unfortunately the sinner hugs them tight. You know those expressions that have become part of everyday language: “l’ll get even with him,” “I’d be a fool if I let her get away with it,” “Forgive? Are you kidding me?” Wrath, anger, vengeance and vindictive spirit make it impossible to practice forgiveness. Lack of forgiveness equals lack of godliness in a person, because God is merciful and Mercy is His name (Deus misereatur).

St. Paul admonishes the Ephesians: “Do not let resentment lead you to sin. The sunset must not find you still angry. Do not give the devil his opportunity (Ephesians 4:26). Resentment is like the eye of ‘Hurricane Anger’ from where it unleashes its fury: vengeance, fiery outbursts, meltdown, anger, ranting, to name just a few. The words of today’s first reading are forceful: “He that takes vengeance will suffer vengeance from the Lord...Does he have no mercy toward another and yet pray for his own sins” (Sirach 28:1, 7). The sage Ben Sirach asks us to apply for others the alibi of ignorance in relation to offence we suffer from them: “Do not be angry with your neighbor...overlook ignorance” (Sirach 28:7). This, in fact, would benefit our emotional and spiritual well-being. That explains why we’ll need to forgive even when the other person hasn’t asked for forgiveness. Forgiveness, more often than not, benefits the one who forgives more than it does the person forgiven. Does that sound strange? Look at it this way: Lack of forgiveness harms us more than it harms anyone else. It is we who can’t sleep as we rehearse the wrong done to us. It is we who become depressed and push our blood pressure sky-high. Then, we plot evil to pay back the supposed injury—in the name of vengeance.

So, our Lord teaches Peter that rather than keep busy with the count of the offence—seven or seventy or seventy-seven or seventy times seven, we should rather make forgiveness a habit, a disposition of the will. Anyone able to repeat forgiveness seventy-seven times would have acquired a habit of forgiveness, making the individual lose count of offences. A habit, good or bad, is acquired by the constant repetition of the same act; hence, one good act does not qualify a person as virtuous, nor does one evil act make one evil. If you’re able to keep count of someone’s offence for 490 times, your heart and life must be filled with evil. In turn, by the time you have forgiven seventy times seven times, you have immersed yourself in the life of God and are one with Him whose mercy endures forever (Psalm 118). A simple way to be like God is to learn to make forgiveness a habit.

The spirit of the world is encapsulated in the vindictive servant who wouldn’t forgive a fellow servant for something meager though he has been forgiven a huge debt. The reaction of the master to his cold heart teaches us that God’s forgiveness toward us can be revoked on one and only one condition, namely, if we fail to forgive others. We agree to this bargain and put our signature to it each time we pray the Our Father : “ Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. ” By logic (hypothetical syllogism) and by any sound judgment, the opposite is the same: “Do not forgive us our trespasses when (if) we do not forgive those who trespass against us.” You get it?

The excuse that he didn’t ask for forgiveness doesn’t hold water. Our motivation to forgive should stem from our own awareness of the need to be forgiven the huge debt we owe God, for which He sent His Son as expiation. We often regurgitate the hurt that others have caused us but rarely call to mind our offence against others. When we excuse ourselves with the idiom, “To err is human, but to forgive is divine,” we should remember also that, about us, “To err is human, but to persist in unforgiveness makes us diabolical.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 17, 2023

Fri, 15 Sep 2023 19:47:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 10, 2023

Sat, 09 Sep 2023 00:33:00 GMT

Anyone who doubts that Jesus founded a community (church) after His own heart to which we’re called to belong, should pay close attention to today’s gospel. This gospel passage has been called a “Dissertation on the Church,” meaning that, yes, Jesus wanted to found a Church, organized with set rules and guidelines for conduct and behavior. He clearly lays out how to deal with individuals—members of family or the faith community—who engage in quarrels and disputes.

What do we do when someone gets crusty with us, starts a fight, becomes downright nasty and rains insults on us? As members of the animal species, the natural tendency is to give it squarely back to them. And that’s how it works in human society, too. But Jesus thinks that you and I—members of a faith community—should adopt a different approach.

The first approach, often the only one needed in nine out of ten cases is to go to that person and tell him or her how we feel. I’ll add that this cannot be done in anger—to tell her off; but, as St. Paul teaches in the second reading, it should be done out of the debt of love we owe each other. In today’s culture of sturdy moral individualism and relativism, this move has to be understood as counter-cultural, as Christianity has been through the ages. We do so not to cower to the person’s aggression but from the standpoint of Christ who came to save us even when we were ignorant of our crimes. Do not underestimate that Christ’s healing truth can touch someone in need through us. Here, approach matters. Though truth may hurt, when spoken gently and in love, it can be a soothing balm for even a coarse heart. Pray to use the right words.

The common approach, in which the offended wait for apologies leaves us broken, even as the offender goes to bed unconcerned, or at times unaware that they hurt us. Anger and depression team with the offender to ruin us. Jesus says: “Go to that person.” Shirk the gossip which we often prefer: telling every single person except the one we ought to tell. Gossip grows from one person to another, and to another who tells another, with the story getting more exaggerated as it is drawn out, and the offence looking worse and worse. Gossips poison families, neighborhoods and even Churches. When you gossip, you’re not necessarily telling a lie. Sometimes it’s falsehood, and called calumny. But most gossips are exaggerated facts (truth) told to people who have no business knowing them. Facts, we know, are raw data and very often mitigated by circumstances. Many marriages and friendships have been destroyed by gossip. Rather than discuss marital issues with one’s spouse, or as Jesus proposed—as the next approach—with one or two reputable persons, many couples would first discuss them with so-called friends, or someone who would aggravate the situation. Hence, for flimsy reasons, a couple who swore love and fidelity to each other at the altar end up shouting insults to themselves as they march to the marriage-destroying courts all over the land.

Jesus’ final solution to discord among believers is to tell the Church. Tell your priest, your godfather or mother, or a believing counsellor. When you need to amicably resolve life issues, lawyers should be last on the list.

What if nothing changes after you’ve exhausted all these options? Jesus says: “Treat the fellow like a Gentile or tax-collector.” Jesus isn’t asking us to wait patiently till we see them burning in hell? No! How did Jesus treat the Gentiles and tax-collectors? He won them over and made them disciples—like the Samaritan woman, like the tax collector, Matthew, who gave us the words of today’s gospel, and like the Good Thief, today in paradise. I give St. James the final words: “Whoever brings a sinner back from the error of his ways will save his (own) soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins” (James 5:20).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 10, 2023

Sat, 09 Sep 2023 00:33:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 3, 2023

Fri, 01 Sep 2023 14:00:00 GMT

If you want to see how a rock can turn into a stumbling block, look no further than the life of Simon Peter. Last Sunday, the Lord Jesus praised his faith and heavenly intuition. Today the rock turns into a stumbling block and was reproached in the strongest terms: “Get behind me, Satan!” The same man—last week: a true witness of Christ’s divinity, today: an obstacle to divine plan. This introduces us to the dual nature of Peter, and perhaps, each one of us. When we cooperate with God’s plan in our lives, we’re our very best selves, but when we cling to the human in us, we can become as stinking as Satan. We have to tread carefully lest we become the very opposite of what we’re meant to be. Unwillingness to suffer with Christ can upend the life of God in us, resulting in a fatal fall from grace.

It isn’t promptly given to the senses how pain and sorrow associated with the cross can result in joy and contentment for the soul. Take as guide the saints who bore every affliction for the sake of Christ and were rewarded with tremendous joy. St. Paul declares: “I am filled with comfort; with all affliction, I am overjoyed” (2 Cor 7:4). St. Francis of Assisi wrote: “Every pain for me is a joy.” St. Theresa of Avila puts God in a dilemma: “Either to suffer or to die.” St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi prayed: “To suffer and not to die.” And St. Rose of Lima asked the Lord to crush her with sufferings to prevent her going astray.

We mustn’t judge Peter for standing on Christ’s way, because each of us would do exactly what Peter did. Who would stand aloof and watch his or her daughter or spouse go through enormous suffering and wouldn’t do all within the person’s power to stop it? Peter certainly didn’t yet understand the mystery of the cross and how even divinity can submit to it. It takes “Getting behind Jesus” as a disciple, a follower, and a learner to get it. We must be prepared to learn that there’s no crown without a cross. One can’t help but think of how human Peter was. His impulsiveness, his impetuosity define the contradictions inside the human heart. The underlying assumption paraded by modern culture that suffering is bad and we should do everything possible—even should it mean addiction to narcotics—in order to be protected from it doesn’t wash with Jesus. For the Lord, suffering is redemptive; it’s essential for salvation.

Let’s take some simple everyday examples: Aren’t we afraid of the surgeon’s knife, the nurse’s needle? Don’t we dread the pulling of a tooth? Yet, the good effects we desire would never be revealed until we let the surgeon cut through our chest to repair a deadly blockage in our heart, or the dentist cut out that extra tooth that would cause us ongoing pain, if left there.

The Venerable Fulton Sheen points to the violin and says: “Because the violinist wants the best from his instrument, he tightens its strings in penitential discipline until they can give the perfect note. If endowed with consciousness, the violin would probably protest the sacrifice it had to make in preparation for the perfection it was destined.” Sheen further says that there’s a potential nobility or even divinity in all of us, as there’s a potential statue in a crude block of marble. But before the marble can ever reveal the image, it must be subjected to the disciplinary actions of a chisel in the hands of a wise and loving Artist, who knocks off huge chunks of formless egotism until the new and beautiful image of Christ Himself emerges.

The agnostics and atheists who reject God and give themselves over to a life of carnality do so because they’re frightened by the cross. They do not understand that the cross is a holy deceit . Sheen says that it was only the skin of the heavenly fruit that seemed bitter; the meat ravishes the soul. When we resign to the Lord and accept the cross, then would we know truly that the cross is a tree that bathes with perfume even the axe that cuts it.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, September 3, 2023

Fri, 01 Sep 2023 14:00:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, August 27, 2023

Fri, 25 Aug 2023 19:54:00 GMT

my mother gave me the key to our house, she made it seem as if I was being handed the nuclear code. I was about ten years old. But she handed it to me as though she was giving me a priceless heirloom. Then came a stream of instructions that sounded like the Ten Commandments of Key Responsibility. She asked me to hold my two earlobes with my hands, then started: “You must never give it to anyone else. You must never remove it from your inner pocket, except to open the door. You must not play football (soccer) with the key in your pocket. You must not lose it. Is that clear enough?” I nodded. Then, “Alright, bye and let me not hear any stories about the key.”

This was just a key or a bunch of keys, you would say; yet, a great deal of responsibility went with it. The point is that to have access to the key implies having unfettered access to the entire house. You could never give the key to your house to a total stranger or someone you do not absolutely trust.

But keys mean much more. In biblical language, keys symbolize power and authority. When the first reading of today speaks about the transfer of the key of the House of David from Shebna to Eliakim (Isaiah 22:19-23), you cannot imagine that Isaiah was speaking about the kind of keys that my mother gave me. Would you? Shebna, who was the Prime Minister in the court of King Hezekiah of Judah, 700 years before Christ, was rather dethroned because of corruption while Eliakim was elevated to the office.

Keys also signify in biblical language a “perfect fit”—that is, one most suited for the position. Thus, God says through Isaiah, “I will fix him like a peg into a firm place” (Isaiah 22:23)—again signifying stability. When nine years ago, I asked Bishop Slattery why he chose me to be the rector of Holy Family Cathedral, he stated that “it was a perfect fit.”

These and much more are the expressions Jesus used in today’s Gospel as He spoke to Peter about keys. He starts off the conversation asking: “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” Every Jew raised in his religious tradition knew that God’s name wasn’t pronounced—out of fear of blasphemy. Yet Peter dares to say that this enquirer before him was the Son of the Living God . That’s something a pious Jew wouldn’t say. But it appeared like he caught straight into the core of Jesus’ being to reveal both His personality and mission. This person knew Him well, or rather must have got a hint from no other than God Himself, and was well deserving of trust. He can be entrusted with the keys. And Jesus concurs: “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly father” (Matt 16:17). From here, we draw the Church’s teaching on papal infallibility: his knowledge is infused and his teaching carries divine import.

What does Jesus do? He changes this man’s name from Simon to Peter , as happened to several biblical figures and personalities with divine mission—Abram to Abraham (father of many nations), Jacob to Israel (image of God’s people) , Simon to Peter (vicar of Christ, leader of the Universal Church); then, Josef Ratzinger to Benedict XVI, and Jorge Bergoglio to Francis.

Jesus calls him cepha [rock or pebble], avoiding the use of “Sur” [Rock], reserved for God, and says that He would build His Church upon this rock. He further promises that death (the netherworld) would not be able to bring this rock to an end; meaning that this mission will continue in succession from Peter to Linus to Clement to John Paul to Benedict to Francis. The superior Keys of the Kingdom carry power and authority to bind and loose heaven’s gate to people. And so, if someone again snarkily cajoles that you worship the pope—which we certainly don’t—remind them that Peter is listening and that she might risk being locked out. Okay, don’t do that; tell them that you’re praying for them.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, August 27, 2023

Fri, 25 Aug 2023 19:54:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, August 20, 2023

Fri, 18 Aug 2023 18:08:00 GMT

If you felt uncomfortable about today’s gospel, you’re not alone. Despite our love for puppies, no one would like to be called a puppy or a dog, ...or would you? And don’t think that when Jews call a foreigner ‘a dog’ they imply an adorable puppy, like your pet dog; they actually mean wild dogs that feed on carcass. Given the chance, we’ll want a do-over of Jesus’ words in the gospel (where He seemed to have used expression similar to the N-word) . Hard to imagine Jesus refusing help to someone because of race. And to add salt to injury, calling the woman and her people “dogs.” I feel unfit to apologize for Jesus, either with today’s choice words or Him calling the Pharisees hypocrites, white-washed tombs or vipers.

Only when considered as a human equal would the words of Jesus in today’s gospel appear callous, indifferent and insulting. While Jews called Gentiles “dogs,” Jesus used the word kynarion , which is the Greek for household dog or puppy—regarded as man’s best friend—in His statement: “It is not right to take the food of children and throw it to dogs.” Rather than understand it as an insult, the woman heard, for the first time, that Jews and Gentiles can co-exist in the same house. She capitalized on the statement as an invitation into the Household of God. Consider that the passage—Mtt 15:1-20—that immediately precedes today’s passage has Jesus condemning the Pharisees who were offered gifts of the kingdom—the food of children—but rejected it. Having been offered and rejected, the spiritual value contained in the food is made open to real people of faith who would avail themselves of this food. The woman represents all those of Gentile descent (i.e., all of us) who would not only qualify for the scraps but are veritably invited to dine with the children in the Kingdom Table. It becomes rather a privilege to be “God’s household dog” because through Christ, we have been adopted into God’s family. Jesus gives the first signal that Gentiles are part of God’s household and belong to His plan of salvation. Faith, not blood, becomes the yardstick of inclusion; hence, He affirms the great faith of the woman and grants her the food of the children—namely, answer to her prayers. Recall that last Sunday He, in contrast, called Peter, the rock— “a man of little faith” (14:31).

We draw vital lessons from today’s gospel discourse. We often demand things from God, and get angry when we’re not getting our preferred answers. Some deny Him existence to prove theirs—as if it adds or removes anything from God whether or not we believe in Him. But we can’t survive outside His love. By attending to the woman’s need and healing her daughter, Jesus shows that God’s love extends to even those we may think do not deserve it. We may feel entitled to God’s gifts and want to usurp His blessings or prescribe to Him how much blessings are allowed to others. Yet, God affords no one the right to claim exclusive possession of Christ and His saving work. In the US, you may have heard of self-acclaimed Christians who foolishly think and say that Catholics aren’t Christians. Perhaps, Luther, Calvin or Zwingli told them so. They believe that they alone possess the yardstick of inclusion as Christians. And for some, the yardstick of inclusion is color, language, race, and country of birth. To all who think that way, Isaiah has this line from today’s first reading: “God’s house will be a house of prayer for all peoples.”

We are invited today to unlock in each of us love, mercy and compassion, recognizing that each of us is, in ways we can’t imagine, a ‘perfect fit’ of the purpose for which God made us. When we ask God to bless our home, our family, our country, we shouldn’t forget to add other families, the poor, the immigrant, and those we endemically reject and call names. God bless America: but also Canada, Mexico, Haiti, Russia, Syria and Iran. Or you’ll have a hard time explaining to God why you think He shouldn’t bless them.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, August 20, 2023

Fri, 18 Aug 2023 18:08:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, August 13, 2023

Fri, 11 Aug 2023 22:37:00 GMT

couple of years ago, we took a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee, the sea on which Jesus walked in today’s gospel. Our tour guide told us a story about a certain tourist from the US who was told by the boatman that the fare for the ride was $50. “Fifty dollars?” exclaimed the tourist, “No wonder Jesus walked!” Sadly, the tourist couldn’t himself walk.

Today’s gospel is packed with teachings about who Jesus is and what He does for His followers. It teaches also about the Church in her journey through the uncertainties of the world, and the journey of every individual believer through the torrents and tempests of life in this vale of tears. But when we find ourselves caught in the realm of the improbable or of things beyond our human capabilities, it is then that the unction of faith is really tested.

We skipped the Gospel reading of last Sunday due to the feast of the Transfiguration that was celebrated in place of the liturgy of the 18th Sunday of the year. Today’s Gospel would naturally have flowed from last Sunday’s where Jesus multiplied loaves and fish to feed a multitude. By multiplying the loaves last Sunday and walking on the water today, Jesus shows that He is lord and master of the elements, all forces—natural and supernatural. But watch how the Gospel puts it: “After the miracle of the loaves, He made His disciples get into a boat and precede Him to the other side” (Mtt 14:22). It’s important to remember that they carried with them the twelves baskets full of fragments of the leftover loaves and fish, for they could not have collected them to throw away. We can only imagine that He’d asked them to go fish out the hungry and continue feeding them with the Word and Bread of Life. (It’s impossible not to see a Eucharistic element in this). Then He goes to the mountain to pray. He sends them [sends us] on our journey and retires to pray for them [for us].

The Boat in the Sea is one of the earliest symbols of the pilgrim Church. Tossed about and pounded from all sides by forces hostile to the kingdom, the Church eagerly awaits the arrival of her Lord to calm the waves, and restore peace. The Lord does the unthinkable: He comes in a form and manner in which He is mistaken for the enemy. Even well-meaning Christians cry out in fear: “It’s a ghost.” Don’t we see the Church’s solutions to the mountain of problems in the world easily mistaken, provoking outcry by the materialist. For example, when the Church proposes discipline, self-control and abstinence to the promiscuity that has infested society, she is tagged an enemy of women and AIDS victims. When she advocates that immigrants be treated well, she is condemned as promoting illegality. But if we listen carefully, we shall hear through the storms the soft, gentle whisper of the Lord amidst the wind saying, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” If we believe His word and invite Him on board, there’ll be calm. Would not the one who rode on the very waves that threatened to engulf His disciples not be able to bring us deliverance and solace in our trials?

As the Church, like Peter’s boat, sails through the stormy seas of our time, we must keep our gaze focused on Jesus and His Church to bring us peace. Peter’s request to walk on the water with Him is the ultimate act of faith that the Church makes to her Lord—to do the impossible or improbable and walk on these waves with Him. But we do need to keep our gaze centered on Him, for if He says to us “Come,” He’ll give us the power to arrive. Peter took the command and walked on water. If we center our gaze on Him, we shall walk on our problems. Notice that while Peter kept his eyes upon the Lord, upon His word and power, he walked on the water well enough; but as soon as he succumbed to fear and took his gaze off Him, focusing rather on the waves, he began to sink; for “We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor 5:7). May the Lord grant us increase in faith to fix our gaze constantly on Him!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, August 13, 2023

Fri, 11 Aug 2023 22:37:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Transfiguration of the Lord, Yr A, August 6, 2023

Fri, 04 Aug 2023 18:29:00 GMT

Rarely does a feast take the place of the regular Sunday liturgy as is the case with the feast of the Transfiguration today. Normally, if a feast or even some solemnities fall on a Sunday, they are moved to the next day. Liturgical laws, however, prescribe that when a feast celebrating particular events in the life of the Lord falls on a Sunday, that feast displaces the observance in the ordinary calendar. Such feasts as Christmas , the Exaltation of the Cross, and today’s feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord take precedence over the Sunday of Ordinary Time. Hence, this Sunday, August 6th, we’re skipping the readings and liturgy of the 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time to focus on this important revelation of the glory of the Lord experienced by the apostles, Peter, James and John.

Tradition holds that the transfiguration took place at Mount Tabor; hence, the Eastern Church calls this festival— Taborion , based on the Psalmist’s mention of Mount Tabor in Psalm 89:12, “Tabor and Hermon will exult your name.” However, given the timing of the event—right after Peter’s profession of faith in Caesarea Philippi, which is in the north where Mount Hermon is located—some scholars posit that the event took place at Hermon rather than Tabor. More so, Mount Hermon, which is 9,200 feet high with eternal snows seemed more apropos for this event than Tabor which is no more than 1,000 feet high and located in the south: meaning that it would have taken several days to arrive to it from Caesarea Philippi on foot, apart from Tabor not being in the direction of Jerusalem where He was headed. In any case, the transfiguration has connections with other Old Testament mountain experiences—particularly, the giving of the law to Moses at Mount Sinai (Exodus 24), and the end of the great drought (I Kings 18). The presence of Moses at the transfiguration reveals that Jesus fulfils the law, the giving of which caused the mountain to be covered with the cloud of the Shekinah—glory of God. Both Moses and Jesus had their faces shine brightly, leaving both the people who went up the mountain with Moses and the three apostles of Jesus in awe of what they had seen.

Elijah was another person who climbed to the Mountain of the Lord—Carmel, from where the divine contest with the prophets of Baal took place, and a cloud brought about the end of the great drought (I Kings 18:45). The presence of the greatest of Israel’s prophets at the transfiguration was also emblematic of the passage of the baton of divine restoration from Elijah to Jesus, in order to end finally the great harlotry with sin and the drought of divine mercy.

The cloud that appeared to Moses and Elijah came with thunder and lightening, scaring the people and making them tremble at such nebulous and mysterious experience. In the transfiguration, the manifestation of the glory of Jesus, the appearance of the cloud, and the voice are signs of the arrival of the times of the Messiah. According to Danielou, one of the qualities of this messianic times was the dwelling of the just in the tents—signified by the huts normally erected during the Feast of the Tabernacles . The prophet Daniel had centuries earlier announced the coming of One like a Son of Man on the clouds of heaven who would receive dominion, glory, and kingship. Peter would later testify: “With our own eyes we saw his glory, when the voice came to him from the Supreme Glory, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am pleased!’ We ourselves heard this voice coming from heaven, when we were with him on the holy mountain” (2 Pet 1:16-18). Peter and the two other apostles were content at this luminous event with remaining there forever. Even with no equipment, they wanted to embark on a tent-making project just for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. No wonder He is depicted in Christian art as heaven’s gatekeeper who always stands outside. But if these men saw only a vision of the likeness of the glory heaven, imagine how much more awe-inspiring would heaven be!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Transfiguration of the Lord, Yr A, August 6, 2023

Fri, 04 Aug 2023 18:29:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 30, 2023

Fri, 28 Jul 2023 17:36:00 GMT

It has been quite a journey through Jesus’ Parables of the Kingdom as recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 13. The sequence of the parabolic sayings needs to be pulled together as a tapestry in order to connect them with the idea underpinning the sayings, namely, the gift of God’s kingdom, which Jesus came to announce. Recall that parables are not just stories but riddles that often serve as metaphors or similes with hidden meanings, inviting the hearer to delineate the twists in the narrator’s story. And even though there’s a central message, one can find several other messages hidden in the parable. For example, the Parable of the Prodigal Son both illustrates repentance, on the part of the sinner; and forgiving love, on the part of the father who generously forgives without judging, as opposed to the judgmentalism of the first son.

The first parable in the series describes a sower who appears to be a terrible gardener, not diligent with the task of sowing his seeds, and the conditions into which the seeds fell. The riddle unpacked is God freely giving the gift of the kingdom to which everyone is called to receive. Unfortunately, only one out of four groups of hearers present a docile heart and fertile ground for the word to bear fruit. In the parables of the weeds among the wheat, the mustard seed and the yeast that leavened the dough, the riddle is revealed in the patience of God with sinners and outcasts. Hence, St. Isidore interpreting the riddle sees God who would not slay Matthew, the tax collector, who enriched himself by unjustly exacting the tribute, so that he might become the hand through which today’s gospel is written that it might reach us. Nor did He destroy the prostitutes who served lust and immodesty, but turned one of them into a model of repentance and an apostle of the resurrection. He also did not avenge Peter’s denial, but led him through the burning tears of repentance to become the rock on which He built His Church. Similarly, God did not strike down Saul, the persecutor, but anointed him as an apostle to the gentile world. In unpacking the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast, Pope Benedict XVI warned against the temptation of impatience, recalling that immediate, massive growth is not God’s way; rather He lets His word—capable of changing life with an intangible presence—to permeate slowly.

Today’s parable of the hidden treasure is echoed in the wisdom of Solomon presented in the first reading. Solomon found a hidden treasure in divine wisdom, aware that it will attract every other good desired, including fame, security, prosperity, long life and happiness. One must ask: Among all the things we desire in life, which are the true treasures and pearls of great price? We can trip and fall as we go all out in pursuit of financial security, the pleasures of life, career and educational advancement, windfall from court settlements, power, success, etc. Jesus’ idea about the kingdom of God is that which, when we gain it first, all other things will be added unto us —“Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice; and all these things shall be added to you as well” (Mt 6:33). It is that treasure which when found would precipitate liquidating our past, sacrificing other possessions, in order to carry off by all available means this exclusive investment. When investing in the kingdom, there should a feeling of contentment that comes with knowing that the value has been appraised as priceless by the Lord Himself. Whether we stumbled over this gift as cradle Catholics (aka, the man who found the treasure and hid it) or sought and found it like an OCIA-merchant searching for fine pearls, once found and appraised, we oughtn’t mind throwing caution to the wind, because the supreme treasure of the kingdom eclipses everything else. When the angels pull the dragnet of life ashore, will you be among the fish for the bucket of God’s kingdom, or the useless fish thrown away into the pit of darkness?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 30, 2023

Fri, 28 Jul 2023 17:36:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 23, 2023

Fri, 21 Jul 2023 17:51:00 GMT

Paul Harvey was a famous radio talk show host, who told stories of famous people in such a way that his listeners won’t be able to predict the subject of his story until the very end. Paul would describe a kid who failed Math class many times, only to reveal at the end of his story that he was speaking about Albert Einstein. Or, someone who found it tough to make it through college and eventually dropped out but turned out to be Bill Gates. Or an amorous youth who became St. Augustine. Doesn’t that reveal that the good seed might be hiding in the midst of tares? The first female president of America could be a crying baby in Church that some can’t stand. And the first American pope might be the raucous child who is running out of control right before you.

The parable of the tares among wheats wouldn’t sound strange to anyone who grew up in the farm. Such was Jesus’ audience; they were mostly farmers. They understood that some seeds might look like weeds when they sprout. Careful attention must be exercised to ensure that they are not uprooted by inexperienced and overzealous people. Hence, only adults could do the weeding; kids are barred. So, Jesus tells us in this parable to let the weeds grow along with the wheat; the difference will be clear at harvest time.

Here is the practical lesson for the spiritual life: Be patient, do not jump into hasty conclusions about what you see. It takes time for the true nature of things to be revealed. Things and humans don’t always turn out the way they seem at first. It is often impossible to know for sure who is what, since we judge by appearances. The scribes and the Pharisees of Jesus’ day appeared to be more religious than others. Yet, for Jesus, they were masked hypocrites.

Nothing is more hazardous than to pass judgment, especially regarding an individual’s relationship with God. Even in cases of fairly obvious wrongdoing, we cannot always know all the circumstances underlying every action or inaction. For example, if St. Joseph were like many of us, he would have reported our Blessed Mother Mary to the authorities when he found that she was pregnant, out of wedlock. Mary would have been stoned to death with her Divine Child. The mystery of the incarnation would have been exposed to ridicule. What seems at first bad might prove the exact opposite, vice versa.

But Jesus isn’t urging a negligence of a person’s primary behavior, rather, that the mysteries of the kingdom are often imperceptible; it may be present but not clearly evident . Its start may be unspectacular, like the mustard seed or the yeast that leavened the dough. The tiny mustard shouldn’t be despised. A child need not be from a royal family before it is treated with honor. Jesus was a tiny child born in a manger but turned out the largest bush on which many are sheltered today from the traps of the enemy. The leaven mixed with the dough might be relatively insignificant and disappears into the mix; yet, it doesn’t cease to work its magic of transforming the life of the dough with its intangible presence.

We’re to sow love, which is like a mustard seed, like the leaven, like the kingdom: not grandiose, but able to change everything. A problem child who frequented the principal’s office for extra admonitions was put with another teacher who moved her close to her desk. Rita reported to her mom, “She smiles at me.” Rita’s new teacher praised her artistic talents, found her dependable and would often send her on errands for her. Rita blossomed, and even helped other kids. The new teacher brought the kingdom of God right into her classroom, and the love multiplied. Rita herself turned out a celebrity teacher that every child wants to be in her class. She smiles at them and celebrates their accomplishments with high-fives. Like the leaven or mustard seed, once sown, love spreads out to more and more people. Sow love, not hate.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 23, 2023

Fri, 21 Jul 2023 17:51:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 17, 2023

Fri, 14 Jul 2023 16:45:00 GMT

I confess that some of the best years of my life were spent in the arms of a woman who was someone else’s wife. That woman was my mother, Priscilla. (I’ll spare you from straying too far in thought). Compared to the soil on which the sower sowed the seed, Priscilla was not a path on which any wayfarer trod. She was not a rocky ground with little soil that is baked by the sun, nor was she a soil overgrown with thorns and brambles. I’ll describe her as a rich soil that produced the desired fruit.

As Jesus proclaimed the Parable of the Sower in today’s gospel, you’ll notice the finesse of a great teacher who seeks to open the thinking ducts of his students with challenging stories and allegories that are puzzling. The Parable of the Sower is prominent among other parables because it was one of the few that Jesus Himself went ahead to interpret its meaning, leaving no doubt about whom He intended the parable for and the message He wanted to convey.

Jesus implies by this parable that right inside our soul is located God’s garden. He doesn’t assume that every single seed sown would sprout and produce abundant fruit, knowing fully well that the wind will blow some away, the squirrels will feed on some, while some will just not deliver. But the Eternal Gardener continues to sow seeds of the kingdom through the instrumentality of His prophets and teachers. Our task is to cultivate this garden, manure it and remove undesired weeds. God offers us tools and implements to cultivate the garden, which are His holy word in scripture and its authoritative interpretation and teachings by His Church, the witness of many courageous men and women—saints and martyrs who have lived the faith—and the living examples of good parents and teachers. Running counter to these are the rock-solid pessimism and skepticism of a decaying culture, the thorn of moral indifference and relativism taught in our schools and orchestrated by the media, the violence and despair, the dullness and laziness that people confuse as recreation and entertainment.

We see how hard it is in our day to cultivate a good soil for the word of God. Many are hungry and starving of spiritual food but are instead provided with the junk of psychoanalysis, mind-altering medication or mere soothing motivational talks. Have these helped? Jesus’ explanation of the parable shows that God’s word is true food for the soul, stirring in many cases joy upon its hearers. The word goes on to germinate, in fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy that the word shall not return void (Isaiah 55:11). There’s often hunger for God’s word; what is lacking is the openness to let the word permeate its hearer. Hence, the “footpath” people dismiss it with no further effort to understand, resulting in the seed being stolen by the evil one. The “rocky-ground” people harden their mind and heart with narrow views and ideological positions. Among them are many ideologues in the media, politics, and the entertainment industry to whom modern culture presents rock-solid stumbling block against the gospel. The “thorny-soil” people are probably many of us who place work, anxiety of paying bills and putting the next meal on the table, vacation, and other endeavors before the demands of the kingdom. The “good-soil” people are those who triumph over all tribulations, standing firm in their convictions.

Are you one of those who would love to hear God’s word only insofar as it doesn’t challenge you, expose the evil in your life or demand that you change your ways? Are you one who wouldn’t want to hear anything that would achieve a groundbreaking, rather prefer to be entertained? Do you just want to be left as you are, even if you’re overgrown with weeds and thorns? If you’re among the hearts that seek God, say this prayer: “Lord, come and heal the pains in my life, and in our world. Let your word penetrate the rock and thorns in my life. Reveal the good soil in me, that I may bear abundant fruit. Amen!”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 17, 2023

Fri, 14 Jul 2023 16:45:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 9, 2023

Fri, 07 Jul 2023 19:46:00 GMT

It’s been three months since Palm Sunday, and the first reading today reminds us about a familiar event. At the entrance liturgy of Palm Sunday, we read from the prophet Zephaniah: “Rejoice heartily, O daughter Zion; shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king shall come to you, a just savior is he, meek, and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass” (Zechariah 9:9). When Zephaniah announced the coming of this new king centuries before the coming of Christ, the Israelites had spent some 300 years as slaves in Babylon; and even as he spoke they were under bitter persecution by the Greeks who conquered and imposed Greek faith, customs and rules. A Jew hearing Zephaniah’s prophecy would think that the prophet had been out in the sun for far too long to suggest that they should, of all things, ‘rejoice.’ And what kind of king would come riding on an ass, when other victors rode on chariots and horses? But it’s the role of the prophet to see what’s hidden from the wise and learned. In fulfilment of this prophecy, Jesus invites the people (us) to come to Him with their (our) burdens and He’ll give them (us) rest. Referencing the beast of burden, He asks them to lay down their yoke and take upon them His own yoke, which He declares is easy; and His burden, which is light. Completely confusing stuff! Isn’t it?

Years ago when there were no trucks and tractors to dig and hurl dirt and other building materials, much of construction work was done with the aid of an instrument called yoke. What the yoke did was tie two animals together so that their combined strength could pull a wagon filled with dirt or stone or other heavy equipment that humans were incapable of pulling. In the plantations, it was the combined strength of slaves that pulled the plow. Hence, the word yoke symbolized and is associated with slavery and servitude. Many times in the scripture, the Jewish law would be referred to as a yoke. Yes, the law– both Jewish and some of our own laws—often turn into burdens to be endured. It isn’t really a great sobriquet to call our country “a nation of laws.” I vote for “a nation of love,” with hope some love is left in our toxic public discourse.

Jesus asks two things from us: to come to Him and to learn from Him . First is to come to Him; an invitation that reveals our helpless condition as people who are burdened with multitude of yokes—the overpowering yoke of slavery to sin and death, the crushing yoke of indebtedness to our flesh’s insatiability, the heavy and painful yoke of loneliness of minds wrapped in self-absorption, the pulverizing yoke of searching for relevance in a self-enclosed world (with its smug self-satisfaction), and the suffocating yoke of solidarity with worldly cleverness and scientific progress, seeking to topple all vestiges of faith. Second, Jesus asks us to learn from Him to liberate ourselves from these yoke so we may not resign to them or capitulate. He asks us to learn from Him how to develop the full potential of our souls, rather than lock ourselves up in a world that cannot truly satisfy our longings. Learning from Him assures that the things that are overwhelming burdens for the so-called learned and clever in the world will become life-building for us, thanks to the action of His Spirit.

Finally, Jesus says He’ll partner with us in bearing our burdens. The primary use of the yoke is to join two animals together so that no one animal pulls the plow or the wagon alone. The essence of the incarnation is this partnership between Jesus and us in bearing our burdens. In this sense, the yoke doesn’t just connect two irrational beasts. A new yoke fashioned by the Lord Himself joins us with Him to pull this wagon ...all the troubles in our life. He made a definite promise at the Last Supper that, as long as we choose to partner with Him, He wouldn’t leave us orphans (Jn 14:18). So, whose yoke do you prefer: the devil’s, the world’s, the one fashioned by your hand ...or the Lord’s?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 9, 2023

Fri, 07 Jul 2023 19:46:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 2, 2023

Fri, 30 Jun 2023 21:53:00 GMT

I’ll do my best to explain simply what we signed up for when we became Christian: 1) We’ll love Jesus more than our father, mother, son, daughter, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, brother, sister, nation, tribe; 2) We must love Jesus more than ourselves: personal needs, desires, comfort, and possessions; and 3) We must take up suffering (i.e., the cross) daily and endure hardships, criticisms, putdowns, hatred, adversity, etc., for the sake of Christ. That doesn’t sound like a great seller in an age of self-cult, like ours. We must wonder then why many half-baked Christians. It must be either that many who signed up for the Christian life didn’t read this memo, hence, are unaware of what the Christian life entailed or they simply don’t care—being Christians by default. Some may also be the so-called “cradle-Catholics” with their “God-degree” in RE (Religious Education) acquired at Second Grade through learning to paint butterflies with crayons and singing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”

Several modern egotists believe that the Christian life is intolerable utter cruelty. And when you call Christianity a religion of love they feel insulted because they can’t imagine such love that demands renunciation, sacrifice and abandonment to the will of Someone whom you do not even see. We spend a lot of time, energy and resources teaching our children to grow in self-esteem in order to be able to compete and successfully outsmart others in the world while Christianity turns it around asking us to develop rather, Christ-esteem. The path to Christianity appears paved with steep narrow stairs that could give a follower a feeling of vertigo: a self-destruction and deliberate denigration of the impulsive self as naught. You’ll think that Jesus would deny that this is the path to discipleship. Rather He says, “Yes, you must carry the cross; yes, the road is narrow and steep; yes, you’ll be hated by people; yes, they’ll persecute and imprison you; and yes, some of you will pay with your lives.”

St. Paul was an apostle who understood this and spoke about the juxtaposition of love and death in the Christian life. In today’s second reading, he asks, “Do you not know that those of us who have been baptized in Christ have been baptized into his death?...so we may walk in newness of life” (Rom 6:3,4). Both Christ and St. Paul aren’t saying what we do not know or even practice. For instance, consider the extent to which the sport enthusiast or the body-builder punishes her body in order to grow the abs that she desires or the amount of torment you endure from the dentist in order to have clean and healthy teeth. I hate to use such worldly analogies but the one who thinks that Christianity is all about euphoria completely misunderstands the love of Christ. It is called “agape” or sacrificial love, which reserves nothing to self but gives all. The emotional toll that sacrificial love exerts on the believer becomes no longer a mutilation but a transforming sincere love, i.e., love that is whole, clean, pure, unmixed, and without wax (sine-cera: Latin for sincere). Sincere love sells the disciple to the world, making them nuncios of the eternal city. They’re effervescent couriers of grace for anyone who shows them kindness.

You need look no further than the first reading of today to notice how the disciple is an effervescent courier of grace. A Shunammite woman extended hospitality to Elisha, the prophet and won divine beatitude, becoming a mom at an advanced age. No surprise, even modern research shows that altruism, service, and going out of one’s way to offer help to others have both additive and synergistic effects on personal well-being. A research conducted with a sample of cancer survivors showed those who picked up volunteer works, service projects and community outreach having less cases of recurrence of cancer than survivors who went back to profitable work. Love and kindness heal; selfishness and hatred hurt. The disciple of Christ, in turn, loves till it hurts.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, July 2, 2023

Fri, 30 Jun 2023 21:53:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, June 25, 2023

Fri, 23 Jun 2023 18:42:00 GMT

Dare to be a Jeremiah? You’ll become an object of vicious, merciless attack. Try saying that something considered evil or immoral ten years ago is still so, you’ll be scurrilously denounced by the enforcers of modern orthodoxy in the media and academia. The tyranny with which the new police of contemporary ethos operates often takes on the contours of a gang in which it is not permissible to be a non-conformist. A false consensus with all trappings of pluralism and liberation unleashes a centrifugal motion that doesn’t just seek to expunge the non-consenting but confines them to a social doghouse. If they fail to dig up stuff on you, they make something up which they hang on your head, and watch you spend the rest of your life defending your tarnished name. Our modern society looks every way like a replay of “Jeremiah Inside the Trenches .”

You might have felt like Jeremiah those times you saw or heard truth, goodness and right conduct painted as lies, treachery and outrage while evil is glamorized with temerity. As society continues to slide into nihilism, the sad fate meted to truth and goodness makes it tougher for our generation to distinguish right from wrong, truth from falsehood, and the benign from the odious. The level of confusion to which society has been thrown forces the few who still believe in anything with the resemblance of truth to either keep silent or join the train and water down their convictions.

You may or may not be a fan of any particular public official. However, if there is any modicum of objectivity in your brain, you’ll recognize that our political media have ceased to be disseminators of information and turned into blinded partisans and devotees of their brand of ideology. If they agree with a particular official, they’ll institute a cause for political and moral canonization of the official, their family, their wardrobe and their missteps. Should they disagree with an official, they turn into witch-haunters with a barrage of negative information about the official, their family, and even their virtues. Like a script out of this line from Jeremiah: “Denounce! Let us denounce him!” you can feel the thirst for vengeance. They go to bed plotting lies and evil and wake up with the hope that “Perhaps he will be trapped; then we can prevail.” And this goes across political divides—right, left or center. The script for religious, moral and political intrigue was not written today; it was written in Eden and made part and parcel of fallen humanity. Jeremiah was its victim. You’ll experience it as a parent, a teacher or student from the agents of hate.

When Jesus steps into this fray, He brings a message of reassurance and vindication for the cause of goodness and right. He says to His apostles and those who believe in Him: “Do not be afraid.” I read from a certain scripture scholar that the expression, “Do not be afraid” is found 365 times in the Bible. I have not attempted to verify that. But it means that we’re encouraged by the Lord to everyday rid fear from our lives. St. John Paul II had the expression “Do not be afraid” as his life and missionary principle; believing that if we resign our lives to God, we need not be afraid of those who’ll attack us. It was with that conviction that he energized Poland to reject and overthrow the evil of Communism. The same conviction led Blessed Stanley Rother back to Guatemala to bring Christ to his parishioners of Santiago Atitlan and speak truth to the powers that be. Jesus tells us that the real spiritual danger we face is not losing our mortal life. That we will die is the fated lot of all. The real danger is that the evil one may cause one to reject and deny goodness, virtue and truth, and steal one’s eternal inheritance, turning it to eternal death . St. Paul adds that death is an irreversible power but the gracious gift of the one man, Jesus Christ is greater than death. Only when we lose our mortal body in death would we realize how fleeting physical existence, which the world glamorizes is.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, June 25, 2023

Fri, 23 Jun 2023 18:42:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, June 18, 2023

Fri, 16 Jun 2023 18:55:00 GMT

Nine out of ten funerals in which I have presided in the past ten years have had the song “On Eagle’s Wings” sung at the Mass or service. When Fr. Michael Joncas wrote the song, it was his way of consoling his friend Doug Hall, who got the news that his dad had died of a heart attack. Earlier that evening, the two men had enjoyed dinner together, but the sad news turned the sweet taste of the food into a bitter pill. Fr. Joncas who never met his friend’s dad thought the song was just something that would be both prayerful and comforting to his friend. Never did he know that he was that day penning down what would become a funeral classic. Since that funeral, the song has featured in, among other events, the funeral of the great Italian tenor Pavarotti (in Italian) and sung at the memorial for the victims of the Oklahoma City Murray Building bombing. This song drawn from the words that God gave to Moses when he addressed the Israelites appears in today’s first reading: “You have seen for yourselves how I treated the Egyptians and how I bore you up on eagle’s wings and brought you here to myself” (Exodus 19:4) extols the protective power of God over his people in times of danger and hardship.

John Walvoord and Roy Zuck describe how the eagle does this: “When young eagles are learning to fly, the mother eagle flies under them with her wings spread out to catch them,” should they be in danger of falling or targeted by archers. While other birds carry their young in their talons, the mother eagle carries hers upon her wings, so that even the archers who aim at them cannot hurt the young eagles without first hurting the mom. This is an expression of the mighty power of God, who at the Red Sea caused a pillar of cloud and fire to interpose itself between the Israelites and their Egyptian pursuers, forming an impenetrable line of defense for His people (Henry Matthew, Commentary on the Bible). There’s quite some agreement that eagles do not actually “carry” their young in their wings. Deuteronomy 32:11f expresses the true behavior of eagles better: “Like an eagle watching its nest, hovering over its young, he spread his wings to hold him, he supports him on his pinions. Yahweh alone is his guide; no alien god for him!” Here, God’s salvation is presented in the same manner in which the book of Genesis speaks about the Spirit of God that “hovered over the waters” (Gen 1:2).

The Gospel passage from Matthew 9:36 highlights how the condition of God’s people stirs His compassionate heart. Hence, the passage says that Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for the crowds who were “troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” Many have been concerned recently about the condition of the immigrant children at the Mexican border. The Holy family experienced a similar situation during the flight to Egypt: the plight of having to desert homeland to seek refuge in a foreign land . To resolve the migrant situation, the yelling and name calling must give way to positive action from both sides of the divide. The migrants are no machines for cheap labor; neither are they to be exploited as mere allies in the ballot box—in either case, turning human beings into spokes at the center of our political wheel. In essence, it must be noted that God’s compassion for humanity goes beyond ethnic, cultural or national boundaries. St. Paul reminds us of Christ who came to our aid when we were helpless, pouring out His blood wholly for us. Through the sacrifice of His life, He, like the mother eagle, spread His wings to support us under His pinions. To yield a harvest of good works in our time, should we not in a similar way be concerned about the needs of others, especially those who seek refuge at our shores? “When I am a stranger you welcomed me” (Matthew 25:35) are the words from Him, which should penetrate our hearts and form our consciences as we await for the coming of the kingdom.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, June 18, 2023

Fri, 16 Jun 2023 18:55:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, Yr A, June 11, 2023

Fri, 09 Jun 2023 17:30:00 GMT

Every living creature seeks to assuage the hunger instinct. Humans, in addition, seek shelter and clothing. Birds, rabbits, and a few other creatures seek shelter as well, but have no interest in clothing. Several other animal species spend entire life doing nothing but search for food and drink. For example, the migration of the Manx Shearwater birds before winter from their north breeding grounds to the south, as far as Hawaii—a distance covering nearly 8,700 miles—is driven particularly by availability of food. But it’s not only food for which we hunger; we also hunger for peace, justice, safety, friendship, intimacy and love. Above all, we hunger for meaning, direction and purposeful existence.

Maslow was nearly correct in identifying a hierarchy of needs on which his theory of human motivation is based. He placed self-actualization at the top of the chain. He would in later years self-critique his theory, elevating self-actualization to mean a search for some higher goal outside the self, in altruism and spirituality. By doing so, Maslow recognized another type of hunger to which the human person cannot play gotcha: the hunger for transcendence, the hunger for God. We do not have any choice about this. Whether one is a card-carrying atheist or a pious believer, humans are hard-wired for transcendence. God put a hunger in us that only He can satisfy. And to assist in satisfying this hunger, God progressively gives His people bodily food, then food for the mind, and finally the spiritual food of His own life. Corpus Christi celebrates this gift that God gave of Himself. It took a step by step approach:

1), Hunger drove the Israelites to Egypt. 2), After a prolonged stay, food no longer satisfied; the hunger for freedom outpaced that for food. 3), No sooner had they found freedom than the hunger for food made its way back; and in answer, God gave them the Manna. 4), They still hungered for a homeland in which they will dwell in peace, safety, and security, especially from the desert serpents and scorpions as well as attacks from other nations. 5), Possessing this homeland demanded even more tenacity, hence, they continually fought to keep it from their foes. 6), An eternal homeland is sought.

Today, Jesus draws our attention to how fleeting earthly solutions are, and invites us to partake of the food that will truly satisfy: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven, ...Whoever comes to me shall not hunger and whoever believes in me shall not thirst” (Jn 6: 51; 6:35). In the world, we are tormented by a plethora of deserts in the form of temptations, hunger and thirst, and opposition to God often as fierce as serpents and scorpions. By nourishing ourselves with the food of the Lord’s Body and Blood, we will escape the death, which not even the manna was able to prevent for Israel.

Consider also that in this food—the Eucharist—we do not only eat the Body and Blood of the Lord, we literally become one body with Him. St Paul alludes to this when he said: “The blessing cup we bless is a communion with the blood of Christ, and the bread that we break is a communion with the body of Christ. Because the loaf of bread is one, we, though many, are one body” (I Cor 10:17). In the Eucharist, we partake of the body of the Risen Lord, which unites us to an intimate and immortal life, love, and friendship with Him. If you need a “bet” or pledge for the life of heaven, the Eucharist is your best bet.

The feast of Corpus Christi evokes memories, solidifies us with the here and now gift of the Lord’s presence, and is a “bet” for future life with Him. We remember the giving of His Body as food for us at the Last Supper; a giving that was effected prior to the besmirching of His body by His foes. Thus, He fulfils His promise to remain with us as the Living Bread uncontaminated by even corporeal death and pointing to a future life with Him in eternity.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, Yr A, June 11, 2023

Fri, 09 Jun 2023 17:30:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Most Holy Trinity, Yr A, June 4, 2023

Fri, 02 Jun 2023 18:41:00 GMT

Around the year AD 200, one of the early Church Fathers, by name Tertullian used the word “Trinity” to describe God. 125 years later, at the Council of Nicaea, the Church adopted this term in expressing God’s nature as we proclaim every Sunday when we recite the Nicene Creed . The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “the mystery of the Most Holy Trinity is the central mystery of Christian faith and life. It is the mystery of God in Himself. It is therefore the source of all the other mysteries of faith, the light that enlightens them. It is the most fundamental and essential teaching in the ‘hierarchy of the truths of faith.’” What does this mystery teach? To sound really philosophical, one can employ the Greek term “perichoresis ” used by St. John Damascene and St. Gregory Nazianzus to define or describe the mystery of the trinity. Perichoresis in theological parlance describes the mutual interpenetration of the hypostasis (persons) of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit who are individually and together of one ousia (essence). That sounds abstract, and I admit to that. However, you can forget about those high sounding philosophical terms and look at it plainly. Take for example, the idea of the family. No single person talks about herself or himself as a family. Even when someone marries, she’s reluctant to refer to herself and her husband as a family. But once a child comes into the equation, individuality and spousal categorizations give way to family relationship. The mutual interpenetration implied in the trinity is similar to the change that results in the formation of the family unit, which consists of a husband, wife and child(ren). Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith, and Ms. Smith are all of the same Smith family. In the trinity, the Church teaches that the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are all one God, but exist as three persons. God is essentially family.

Does that explain the mystery of the trinity? Not quite. A very important point to be made about a mystery is that we certainly can know something about it but cannot fully understand or explain it. It surpasses our understanding, and it shouldn’t surprise us that we’re incapable of understanding God fully. Just like a kindergartener is incapable of understanding algebra and calculus, in the array of possible knowledge of reality, humans are kindergartners in relation to divine realities. Some arrogant people will object and claim that if they cannot know God, that makes God unknowable or inexistent. What is wrong with that claim is that even in the natural universe, we are incapable of knowing everything contained therein. My grandfather who only knew about telegram would have dismissed the possibility of email messages. Is it possible that God is too great for us to understand Him fully? Yes, because we do not possess the same level of knowledge as God. When we meet God face to face, we’ll know Him as He is. The book of Revelation sums it: “His name will be written on their foreheads and there will be no need for lamplight or sunlight because the Lord God will shine on them, and they will reign forever” (Rev 22:4).

Having said these, the question remains: “Of what relevance is this doctrine to believers?” The trinity teaches love, unity, and mutual understanding. These qualities subsist in the trinity and preclude the possibility of tension, discord, hatred and unfaithfulness. When we learn to live like God, we’ll overcome the tensions in human relationships, which result from lack of unity and love. Tensions in marriages, friendships, alliances, and currently very deep in our national discourse result from lack of love and unity. Unlike God who is unity, the devil, whose essence is division (deamonum) sows discord among us causing us to bite and tear each other down. Since our nation abandoned God to make idols of ourselves and our desires, it’s no surprise that we’re experiencing more tension, hatred and disunity. Friendships, alliances, marriages, and laws not built on God, on the inner life and love of the trinity, are destined to collapse.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Most Holy Trinity, Yr A, June 4, 2023

Fri, 02 Jun 2023 18:41:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Pentecost Sunday, Yr A, May 28, 2023

Fri, 26 May 2023 23:21:00 GMT

It requires more than a course in public speaking to turn around minds and hearts caught in paralyzing fear. Several years after I became a priest, my mother revealed to me that one of her greatest concerns about my desire to become a priest was how her ‘Little Jo’ would be able preach Sunday after Sunday. And my mother was right, because I was one of those individuals scared to death about standing in front of an audience. But I knew even as ‘Small Jo’ in grade school that there were things I believed strongly and convictions clear as light to me. For example, I never doubted that I was called to be a priest. Hence, I told my parents and siblings when I was only four years old that I wanted to be called Father Jo . I didn’t start to answer Father Jo in 1997 when I eventually became a priest. Yet, I’ll admit that twenty-six years after ordination, I’m still uncomfortable in crowds and have not overcome the fear of public speaking. But my convictions have remained strong and, somehow, I manage to speak publicly.

The apostles, for a different reason, had similar fears about speaking after Jesus ascended into heaven. They found themselves locked inside a room, floundering in the fear that gripped them. They had been with Jesus for three years and had seen Him perform many miracles and speak words that pierced people’s hearts. They had seen that despite His kindness, love and compassion, people still hated Him and accused Him of being an impostor. They killed Him amidst two thieves, suggesting that He was an evildoer. The apostles could not shirk from these thoughts as they wondered how to confront the crowd that put away their All-powerful Master. He’d assured them of His presence to the end only to suddenly disappear from their sight.

Then came a violent wind that burst through the house. Strong winds create violent stirs, bending, breaking, and uprooting things. The apostles felt the stir in their hearts as they saw tongues of fire resting on the head of each one of them. Their perspective about the future was shaken and turned to debris; their fears were broken and uprooted. But violent winds do more than destroy things; they often propel the clouds to pour down rain to water the earth, causing seeds to sprout and grow, and transporting manure from one end to fertilize the soil at another end. The apostles felt this all-pervasive act of the new wind of God’s Spirit refreshing their lives as rain refreshes the earth, fertilizing their thoughts, and transforming them from fearful to courageous people.

The effects of such sudden outburst were felt all through the city. The apostles felt emboldened to go out and speak about that of which they had feared. Fear could no longer hold them captives of the cenacle. The sound propped not just the apostles but devout Jews who had come to Jerusalem to celebrate their Harvest Festival, “Pentecost,” meaning “fiftieth”—that is, fifty days after the Passover. Though they did not all speak the same language, each understood the apostles in Aramaic. Two things happened: First, a new Pentecost came about. Fifty days after our own Passover, which is Easter, the Catholic (Universal) Church was born. Second, the barrier in language that began at Babel was reversed. The Spirit united the languages and peoples of the world into a single people. St. Paul references this in the second reading: “For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit” (I Cor 12:13). Henceforth, only one language is heard—the language of the Holy Spirit, which is love.

Perhaps, you have heard people say they’re ‘spiritual’ but not religious. Demons are spiritual, too, and are pure spirits. Radical Moslems are spiritual. However, only those united by God’s Spirit know the true love of God. God’s love connects all to the Catholic Church—the single community of believers in Christ.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Pentecost Sunday, Yr A, May 28, 2023

Fri, 26 May 2023 23:21:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Ascension of the Lord, Yr A, May 21, 2023

Fri, 19 May 2023 17:42:00 GMT

We seem to have inside us a switch of rebellion turned on the moment someone tries to tell us what to do. Don’t we? We dislike the word “authority” and distrust or rather mistrust authority—from the authority of parents to those of teachers, the Church, the police, and, go on to add, the presidency. The abuses of power and authority to which the world has many times been exposed through the course of history make us suspect authority and be on the alert against ideas or rules issued by authority figures. The only exception is when the authority figure is us; then, we complain that people under us won’t do the right thing.

On this feast of Ascension, we learn that Jesus’ parting words to His remaining eleven apostles invoke the uncomfortable term and idea of power and authority: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matt 28:18). He goes as far as transferring the authority to them for the purpose of mission, sanctification, teaching, and the building up of His body: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them...teaching them to observe all I have commanded you.” Jesus makes explicit that His commands are not for us to pick which ones agree with our sensibilities or the general events or thinking of our time. He demands observance of all His commands. Finally, He assures His presence: “And behold, I am with you, until the end of the age.”

These parting words clearly reveal that Jesus endorses at least three forms of authority: first, the authority of His Father; second, the one He hands on; and third, the authority given for mission. Hence, divine authority is the highest form of authority . When it collides with human authority as often happens with several unjust laws promulgated by people on suit and tie or black robes, “we must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). Secondly, authority is given, not taken . If someone tells you he or she is a minister, ask who ordained or commissioned him or her, and whether the claim streams from apostolic succession. Prophets and ministers like Jim Jones and David Koresh made such claims and history revealed how bad an idea it was to follow such self-proclaimed prophets. Yet, not only fools, but many intelligent people get trapped in their nets. Thirdly, be suspicious of any Church that appears self-serving, even with the best motives . Every Church authority worth obeying must be one with a mission to serve, not just with earthly provisions, but for sanctification and salvation.

Somewhere else, Jesus shows respect for local and public institutions—Remember when He miraculously raised money from the mouth of a fish to pay some form of tax that He needn’t pay, and when He enjoined his listeners to render to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God’s. He even told Pilate during His trial that his authority (Pilate’s) was given to him from above. It’s not alright to think that authority or authority figures (especially the ones we don’t like) are always evil and we have to resist, reject and rebel. We must be discreet about our resistance. Yes, the misuse of authority throughout history has been well documented. The abuses of authority in God’s name are also well known—from the Crusades to the forced conversion of the natives, to the genocides, beheadings and zealotry of attacking innocent people on the streets, trains, airplanes, marketplaces, even at the theatre or wherever terror can be harnessed. God never endorses such use of power, even should it be preceded by a proclamation of —‘Allah Akbar’ (God be praised).

How we know that someone is using authority in the name of God is when the person is using it to serve. The last demonstration of authority by Jesus bears this out. After washing His disciples’ feet, He told them: “ You also ought to wash each other’s feet ” (John 13:14). He saw authority as service, and commands that all who exercise authority must be servants of all (Matt 20:26).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Ascension of the Lord, Yr A, May 21, 2023

Fri, 19 May 2023 17:42:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 6th Sunday of Easter, Yr A, May 14, 2023

Fri, 12 May 2023 19:48:00 GMT

I recently learned from an episode in the History Channel something that baffled me: That right as we sit here today, there are coal fires burning underground in this country. Have you heard that before? It is said that some of the fires have burned for decades and there’s no way to put them out. I’m clearly unaware of the science behind that. If you’re knowledgeable in geology, you may help me understand. I know, however, that there’s such fire burning inside each of us. Let me explain.

As I’ve often said, Morning Prayer in my family started at 5am with the Sign of the Cross and the invocation: “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful; and kindle in them the fire of your love.” How does the Holy Spirit do this? And what is this fire that He kindles? Jesus tells us in today’s gospel: “I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate to be with you forever, the Spirit of truth whom the world can never receive since it neither sees nor knows Him; but you know Him, because He’s with you, He is IN you” (John 14:16). Yes, God’s Spirit dwells in us, alive and well. Alive : yes. Well : it depends.

Similar to the coal fire mentioned earlier, the Holy Spirit is inside us like the “fuel” but He needs the oxygen that we’ll provide to manifest Himself fully so the spark can fan into flame God’s love buried deep in our hearts. Unfortunately, many have cluttered their hearts with the clouds of passion and rebellious desires which dampen the fire of God’s Spirit. In today’s second reading, St. Peter encourages us to fan into flame the Spirit of God in us, so that we may have clear answers to those who challenge us about the reason for the faith we hold. St. Peter didn’t suggest that when asked about our faith, we refer the enquirer to our priest. Many of us stopped learning about their faith in second grade when they ‘graduated’ from CCD class. They live their adult religious experience with the guidelines of a child. Would you even permit a physician who learned only general medicine to fix a tumor in your brain? Across the board, many Catholics appear to be concerned only about the “how,” and not the “why” of their faith. For example, how to receive Holy Communion: in the tongue or hand—rather than why we receive it; how to process in for wedding: with rock or classical music—rather than why the sacrament is essential for the flourishing of God’s love between spouses; how to go to confession: facing the priest or kneeling behind a screen—rather than why sin is an injury against God, etc. Many opportunities are provided for us to learn our faith but many Catholics don’t want them or don’t seem to care...because they’re very busy. When their life becomes crushed by the dominance of the ego, they demur and seeks solace in drug, alcohol and an infinity of trifles.

A little openness of mind and heart mixed will the flame of God’s Spirit will cause an explosion of light and warmth and goodness. Then the soul, according to Hugh of St. Victor, will grow strong, the flame of love will burn more hotly and brightly, and the smoke of passion will die down, letting God’s love to burst from us into other lives. Have you ever wondered why some people, like St. Teresa of Calcutta, are able to forget themselves to accomplish acts of love and kindness beyond measure? Is it because God gave them more than He gave us? No! People who do incredibly good and selfless things are not different from you and me. They have only had an openness and willingness to provide the oxygen for the Spirit to burn within them. God’s fire never goes out, but we can help it burn a little brighter by eschewing selfishness, greed and indifference. Open yourself to learn your faith by attending our Faith Enrichment classes, watching the videos on Formed.org that has been provided free of charge for us. Practice prayer, meditation and Bible reading, and you’ll become equipped to warm your neighbor with the Spirit’s fire.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 6th Sunday of Easter, Yr A, May 14, 2023

Fri, 12 May 2023 19:48:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 5th Sunday of Easter, Yr A, May 7, 2023

Fri, 05 May 2023 18:23:00 GMT

I was invited for a presentation at a neighboring Protestant Church on the “500th Anniversary of the Protestant Reformation.” One eloquent speaker narrated how Christians got along very harmoniously for 1400 years until the Catholic Church leadership got corrupt leading to the reformation that Fr. Martin Luther orchestrated. My metaphysics professor often said that “ignorance of history is the serious defect of the protestant culture.” Does the first reading of today suggest that there was always such kind of harmony? Greed or corruption are human experiences not new to Christianity. Ananias and his wife Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11) were the first corrupt Christians. Simony was first committed by Simon Magus (Acts 8:9-25). Discriminations were found among early Christians ((Acts 6:1-2). Cardinal Archbishop Judas Iscariot was a thief. The Church was never immune from corruption, but it was equipped with mechanisms to handle it. The Holy Spirit instructed her to replace Judas with Matthias (Acts 1:12-26), to appoint deacons to serve food (6:1-6), to call councils to debate issues of faith and morals (Acts 15:8-29), to determine that people can worship God in their native languages (Vatican II), etc., etc. The Holy Spirit continues to direct the Church along the way, teaching her the truth, and filling her with an enduring life.

When Jesus says in today’s Gospel that He’s the way to the Father, He’s not referring to a nicely-paved highway like the Indian Nation Turnpike . He indicated that the road would be more like our rough streets and as winding as the mountain trails of Colorado. It’s hard to fall asleep driving on such trails. People easily fall asleep on the Easy Street . The truth to which Jesus refers Himself is not the valid demonstrations or proven hypotheses of scholars. It’s truth that doesn’t need continuous validation, because it doesn’t change. The life which Jesus is transcends the smooth, polished, unruffled reveries that can be bought and paid for by the affluent. He’s life that doesn’t end in death but endures unto eternity. Hence, St. Peter in the second reading asks us to keep our gaze on Christ the living stone, to be built into a spiritual powerhouse.

Since the media turned into purveyors of propaganda, I took my attention away from their depressing news and currently juggle from EWTN to the soccer channel, the National Geographic, and the History Channel . I watched an episode of “Modern Marvels” in the History Channel about the building of the Hoover Dam . I was amazed to learn that nearly 90 years after its construction, the concrete in the dam is still cooling. I also enjoyed the episode on the construction of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. The engineers built the arch from ground up simultaneously on both sides; with the two giant “legs” reaching hundreds of feet in the sky. As the two “legs” curved closer to each other, it was as if they were yearning to be connected. Then came the piece that connected the two: that one piece put the entire structure in harmony, fitting perfectly and unifying the whole just as the designers envisioned. That final piece was called “the cornerstone,” giving Missouri its name, “Keystone State,” gateway to the west. Quite true, the cornerstone isn’t just one at the base but the stone that holds the two “legs” together.

The second reading today tells us that Jesus is this stone which joins the divine and the human, heaven and earth. Psalm 118 describes Him as “the stone rejected by the builders that has become the cornerstone.” When next you’re at Mass, watch the priest as he mixes water and wine together before consecration. He prays silently: “By the mystery of water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled Himself to share in our humanity.” Jesus does not just give us a glimpse of heaven; He also gives us a glimpse into our very selves. He is the true Keystone and Gateway to heaven.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 5th Sunday of Easter, Yr A, May 7, 2023

Fri, 05 May 2023 18:23:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 4th Sunday of Easter, Yr A, April 30, 2023

Fri, 28 Apr 2023 20:23:00 GMT

One of the sites I visited on my first trip to Rome was the “Catacombs of Priscilla.” My interest to visit that particular catacomb was aroused, first by Priscilla being my mother’s name; and then, a BBC newscaster one morning had a number of women arguing for women’s ordination and pointing at a fresco on the ceiling in one of the vaults of the Catacombs of Priscilla which showed what appeared like a woman wearing priestly robes. She had her two hands extended as if she was celebrating Mass. “There you have it,” said one of the women with a British accent: “There were women priests in the early Church,” she concluded. Deciding to investigate this myself, I pulled the map to find how to get there. With the help of a cab driver, I made it to the Catacombs of St. Priscilla , located north of Rome. The generally held view was that the fresco in question depicted rather figures of an ancient Roman funeral banquet, not Mass. But it wasn’t the painting of the woman apparently celebrating Mass that caught my eyes. There was a fresco of Mother and Child that may have been the earliest of the Infant Jesus and Mary. The fresco that stood out was that of Jesus as the Good Shepherd standing in front of a garden. He was carrying a lamb on His shoulder and motioning to two sheep to enter, while on top of two small trees on either side of the garden’s entrance were two crowing roosters.

A number of Christian symbolisms are depicted in this fresco. The two trees symbolize the garden of paradise from which our first parents were banished. Christ’s resurrection opened again the doors of paradise shut against Adam and Eve; and in place of the expelling cherubs posted in front of the garden to prevent man from reentering (Gen 3:24a), Christ stands as the gatekeeper, lovingly inviting back the lost sheep, Adam and Eve (and redeemed humanity), to the sheepfold. Again, in place of the flame of flashing sword (Gen: 24b), the cross stands as the new tree of life inviting humanity back to the garden. In the same fresco, Christ even carries a wounded lamb on His shoulder to show His care for us when we’re wounded by sin. The rooster is a sacred symbol, which in the Jewish tradition is emblematic of gallantry and honesty; but more so, temple officers were called “Rooster” as one of their titles, to show their roles as the ones who welcomed people into the temple or expelled them. Christ, too, is the “Rooster” or, as He calls Himself today, the Gatekeeper of the heavenly temple who calls His sheep to heaven. In other ancient traditions, the rooster symbolizes the victory of light over darkness. For the Igbos, the crowing of the rooster each morning wakes humanity up from sleep—a resurrection motif of calling humanity back from the death of sin to a new life.

The Shepherd theme pervades every aspect of our religion. One of the most prayed psalms in the Bible is Psalm 23, with the Shepherd theme. Christ, the Good Shepherd provides us through the Church, shepherds (pastors) who lead us to the fresh waters (Baptism) to refresh our souls. They guide us in the right path of sound doctrine for His name’s sake; so that, even should we walk in the dark valley of false teachings, we’ll not fear; for their prayers and guidance give us courage. They feed us with rich food (the Eucharist) for our journey, and anoint us with salvation (Reconciliation) for years to come.

Let us tell Jesus today that with Him as our shepherd, we shall want for nothing. If we truly believe that He guides us in right paths, we must reject other attractions to which the corrupt world and our base nature direct us, knowing too well that these quickly turn to distractions. The world is the beehive of distractions, and St. Peter warns us in the first reading, “Save yourself from this perverse generation” (Acts 2:40). Why? Because faith in Christ is incompatible with the mentality of the world.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 4th Sunday of Easter, Yr A, April 30, 2023

Fri, 28 Apr 2023 20:23:00 GMT

A number of Christian symbolisms are depicted in this fresco. The two trees symbolize the garden of paradise from which our first parents were banished. Christ’s resurrection opened again the doors of paradise shut against Adam and Eve; and in place of the expelling cherubs posted in front of the garden to prevent man from reentering (Gen 3:24a), Christ stands as the gatekeeper, lovingly inviting back the lost sheep, Adam and Eve (and redeemed humanity), to the sheepfold. Again, in place of the flame of flashing sword (Gen: 24b), the cross stands as the new tree of life inviting humanity back to the garden. In the same fresco, Christ even carries a wounded lamb on His shoulder to show His care for us when we’re wounded by sin. The rooster is a sacred symbol, which in the Jewish tradition is emblematic of gallantry and honesty; but more so, temple officers were called “Rooster” as one of their titles, to show their roles as the ones who welcomed people into the temple or expelled them. Christ, too, is the “Rooster” or, as He calls Himself today, the Gatekeeper of the heavenly temple who calls His sheep to heaven. In other ancient traditions, the rooster symbolizes the victory of light over darkness. For the Igbos, the crowing of the rooster each morning wakes humanity up from sleep—a resurrection motif of calling humanity back from the death of sin to a new life.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday of Easter, Yr A, April 23, 2023

Fri, 21 Apr 2023 21:10:00 GMT

Emmaus was a city in the Shephelah or “lowland” of Palestine, noted for several historic conquests by the Jews. In 166 BC, it was the site of the victory of Judas over Gorgias, recorded in First Maccabees 4:1-22, where we also find the first Old Testament reference to the resurrection. Earlier, Joshua had defeated the Canaanite league around this region (Joshua 10). It was also the area where Samson’s exploits occurred as well as the scene of David’s duel with Goliath. It’s mostly a residential part of town with limestone foothills that made the area fortified against enemy attacks. Emmaus is in spiritual terms, the earthly city.

In today’s account of Jesus’ appearance, Luke doesn’t tell us why the two disciples are going to Emmaus or whether they reside there. However, Luke’s reference to the town might point to its relative importance as a place to “cool off” from the hurly-burly of Jerusalem. The two disciples appeared to be leaving behind the ‘spiritual angst’ of Jerusalem with a ‘failed Messianic hope’ in Jesus, an empty tomb, and a hollow echo to the mundane fortifications of the limestone foothills of Emmaus. It was a journey from the spiritual high heaven to a disappointing spiritual lowland. Little did they know that the Lord was on the way with them to make their depressed hearts burn within them , turn their bread of tears into a joyful presence, and return them to the spiritual highland.

Already, in the Lucan community, the Eucharistic assembly was taking shape, echoing Emmaus. It’ll invoke the scripture and offer gifts of bread and wine to the soul’s welcome guest. He, the Lord, will break his journey to be with us at the evening of our lives, when we have grown weary. The Church adapted the words of the two disciples in her prayer: “Mane nobiscum Domine, quoniam advesperascit”—“Stay with us Lord, for the evening falls. ” He will break the Bread of Presence and show Himself to us. We’ll be filled with joy as we go out to announce Him in the spiritual heights. He’ll continue to walk seven days a week with us and our Christian neighbor, as He walked seven miles with Cleopas and his unnamed companion. He already told us that where two or three of us are gathered, he’ll be there with us (Matt 18:20). He’ll speak words that burn within our hearts, until our journey finds us once again at a new Emmaus (another Sunday), where we experience His Real Presence.

It’s easy to note how the Mass was modeled after the Emmaus journey, with the two parts of the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. At the outset, we bring with us our disappointments, our failures, our negligence and contrite heart in the Penitential Rite , as the two disciples on the road to Emmaus told the Lord about their failed hopes. In the Readings of the Day , we listen to Him as He draws from scripture a tapestry of God’s salvific mystery realized in Him. Every good Homily should make our hearts burn within us. At the Universal Prayer , we invoke Him, like the two disciples to stay with His Church, at this evening of life. He becomes the welcome guest of our souls. The second part of Mass starts with Offertory , where we offer Him bread and wine and gifts from our treasury of His blessings. At Consecration , He takes the bread, blesses it, and breaks it. At Holy Communion , He opens our eyes to recognize His presence. Ite Misa Est is a call to carry the joy of the Lord’s presence to others: to those whose lives are filled with sadness, to the sick in need of His healing, to the unbeliever who sees Christ’s light in us.

Why was He revealed only at the breaking of bread, and not when He spoke to them? Because our faith would not terminate at the Table of the Word . The real presence of the resurrected Christ is perceived only at the Eucharistic Table; that is why the Church calls the Eucharist, the source and summit of our Christian life. Whenever you’re at Mass, pay close attention to these patterns.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday of Easter, Yr A, April 23, 2023

Fri, 21 Apr 2023 21:10:00 GMT

In today’s account of Jesus’ appearance, Luke doesn’t tell us why the two disciples are going to Emmaus or whether they reside there. However, Luke’s reference to the town might point to its relative importance as a place to “cool off” from the hurly-burly of Jerusalem. The two disciples appeared to be leaving behind the ‘spiritual angst’ of Jerusalem with a ‘failed Messianic hope’ in Jesus, an empty tomb, and a hollow echo to the mundane fortifications of the limestone foothills of Emmaus. It was a journey from the spiritual high heaven to a disappointing spiritual lowland. Little did they know that the Lord was on the way with them to make their depressed hearts burn within them , turn their bread of tears into a joyful presence, and return them to the spiritual highland.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 2nd Sunday of Easter (Sunday of Divine Mercy), Yr A, April 16, 2023

Fri, 14 Apr 2023 22:00:00 GMT

You’ll perhaps think that if Jesus, after His resurrection, had shown Himself to more people besides His disciples, everyone would believe that He rose from the dead. If on that Easter morning, He had presented Himself to Herod, then Pilate and Caiaphas, that would be quite impressive; but He would have needed to perform more feats. Think of all those miracles He performed, including raising a dead man. The hearts of His detractors remained hardened all the more. They would accept no more than His condemnation. To win over the crowd by miracles will require more and more miracles. The resurrection did frighten the guards stationed at the tomb who reported their experience to the chief priests. Yet, the effort by the chief priests to bribe them so they could lie about the resurrection as well as the press release by the authorities: “His disciples came during the night and stole him away while the guards were asleep” (Mtt 28:11) show that no amount of physical evidence would have been enough to convince the Jews. Something different would be required: faith.

Today’s appearance of Jesus to the apostles touches on a number of themes. He came to make peace with them; hence, they were filled with joy when they saw the Lord. He also meant to confirm their faith in Him: therefore, He breathes on them the breath of the Holy Spirit, through whose power they will become witnesses of the resurrection. He commissions them to continue the work He began. We heard Luke report in the first reading that the community they left behind devoted themselves to (1) the teaching of the apostles (2) to a communal life (3) to the breaking of bread, that is, to the celebration of Mass, and (4) to prayers. His appearance was also a salutary lesson on the fragility of human nature and an assurance of divine mercy. These men must have been extremely embarrassed at their tepidity, denials and abandonment of their friend and Master. Their hearts must have reeled in utter shame and remorse. But He forgives them, and right there, commands them to forgive others in His name. By this He establishes an avenue or sacrament of God’s mercy. Hence, this Sunday all over the world has been designated ‘Divine Mercy Sunday.’

A disciple, therefore, is one called to carry the message of God’s mercy to a broken world that claims self-sufficiency. He will have to contend with a powerful force that hates and opposes God with the agenda to destroy faith.

The first sign of Him attempting to confront the world’s modus operandi came with the reaction of Thomas to the report by his fellow apostles. Thomas represents the world—the so-called scientific community—for whom the criteria for truth and any possible cognition of reality will be limited to concrete observable data. Hence, if you cannot touch, feel or measure it, then that idea falls within the realm of unverifiable conjecture, that should be rejected. Yet, the second appearance to Thomas reveals more than effort at evidentiary proof. Here, Thomas represents each one of us with a tinge of vertigo, an inner restlessness or torment which requires destruction in order that it might be refashioned by the risen Lord. Christ makes clear that beatitude is guaranteed only by faith: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe” (John 21:29). Faith will become a struggle to overcome the collective mentality of the world, its fears and anxieties, its vanities and lusts, and its refusal to undergo the destruction to which it is destined in order to be recast in the image of Christ. Thomas’ inquiry turns to a prayer that the Lord may remove our inner restlessness and solidify our faith. At the revelation of Jesus, Thomas exclaimed, “My Lord and my God.” John makes the point that the exchange between Jesus and Thomas is a story told to help us “believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, so that through this faith you may have life in him.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 2nd Sunday of Easter (Sunday of Divine Mercy), Yr A, April 16, 2023

Fri, 14 Apr 2023 22:00:00 GMT

Today’s appearance of Jesus to the apostles touches on a number of themes. He came to make peace with them; hence, they were filled with joy when they saw the Lord. He also meant to confirm their faith in Him: therefore, He breathes on them the breath of the Holy Spirit, through whose power they will become witnesses of the resurrection. He commissions them to continue the work He began. We heard Luke report in the first reading that the community they left behind devoted themselves to (1) the teaching of the apostles (2) to a communal life (3) to the breaking of bread, that is, to the celebration of Mass, and (4) to prayers. His appearance was also a salutary lesson on the fragility of human nature and an assurance of divine mercy. These men must have been extremely embarrassed at their tepidity, denials and abandonment of their friend and Master. Their hearts must have reeled in utter shame and remorse. But He forgives them, and right there, commands them to forgive others in His name. By this He establishes an avenue or sacrament of God’s mercy. Hence, this Sunday all over the world has been designated ‘Divine Mercy Sunday.’

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Easter Sunday, Yr A, April 9, 2023

Fri, 07 Apr 2023 13:36:00 GMT

I recommend that every Christian should have in their bucket list of things to do before they die, two pilgrimages: one to Rome, specifically for the celebration of Easter, and another to Jerusalem for the celebration of Holy Week. It’ll be a kind of ‘reverse pilgrimage’ to attend the Easter event in Rome before the Passion one in the Holy Land. Conventional wisdom would suggest doing it the other way round, but that’s not how majority of us started our faith journey. We first became believers before we learned what we believed: something like St. Anselm’s “fides quaerens intellectum” (faith seeking understanding) or like an adopted child growing up in her adopted family, then after many years goes in search of her natural parents. An Easter pilgrimage to Rome will find you one among nearly half a million people at the vast piazza of St. Peter’s Basilica. You’ll be stunned at the number who share the same faith as you, especially when after Mass, the pope greets you and your fellow Christians—“Happy Easter”—in many different languages to which follows each time a loud cheer and applause by the peoples of the different language groups in response to the greeting. You’ll be amazed at the unity expressed at the one altar of the Resurrected Lord.

Your next pilgrimage to celebrate Holy Week in the Holy Land will certainly be subdued as you’re led to the actual sites of Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection. If a walk through the “Via Dolorosa” on Good Friday doesn’t leave tears in your eyes, you should see a therapist because you may not be truly human. You’ll also see that Jesus remains a sign of contradiction for that land, as you notice the division among Christian sects who claim a section of each Church to themselves. Many a time fights will break out between the Franciscans and the Greek Orthodox or the Armenians and the Syriac Orthodox. Several Jewish and Muslim merchants will yell at you to buy fake Christian artifacts—just for the money. No surprise, they still think Jesus was an impostor and the Messiah is yet to arrive. And your greatest misery will come from seeing the staggering Dome of the Rocks —the largest religious edifice in Jerusalem—a mosque, erected on the Temple Mount, from where Muslims claim Mohamed ascended into heaven. [I didn’t mean to spoil your Easter].

Yet, everything I said above is true. There’s about 20 centuries separating the events you experience in Rome and the ones in Israel or Palestine, but there’s a tape connecting them. The sad events in Jerusalem gave rise to the joy of Rome. The Hosanna and Alleluia you hear in Rome are, after all, Hebrew words, but they resound everywhere they’re announced; they have remained words untranslatable. During my visit to Korea seven years ago, they were about the only words I understood at Mass.

Truly, a radical overturning of the entire history of humanity took place this morning. There’s hardly one of us who has not experienced the death of a loved one or someone we admire. I can give anything possible to have my mother back to life. Yet, for me, the consequences of Jesus’ resurrection remain incalculable. A new kind of existence which cannot end for our departed loved ones is ushered in for all of us. It’s as if some sort of implacable, underground vitality surfaced from the innermost depths of humanity, flooding everything and imposing itself irresistibly on us (Motte). Though I still fear bodily death, I’m assured that death would not annihilate me; rather, it has been turned to a tool for my transformation unto glory. And the greatest news is that sin is conquered. My failures that stream from a complicity with entrenchment to worldly power and security, which constantly beguile human existence, has been dealt a fatal blow. The resurrection of Christ has defused this seductive power of sin and granted us freedom through His life-giving Spirit. Happy Easter to you all!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Easter Sunday, Yr A, April 9, 2023

Fri, 07 Apr 2023 13:36:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Yr A, April 2, 2023

Fri, 31 Mar 2023 18:54:00 GMT

Psalm 122:3 says: “Jerusalem is built as a city strongly compact; it is there that the tribes GO UP, the tribes of the Lord.” And so, there’s this imagery of Jerusalem as a city to which people go up. From whichever direction you’re taking to Jerusalem, you’re going up. Located 2400 feet above sea level, Jerusalem, the ancient city, remains the center of religious activities in the world. If we were to be in Jerusalem today, we’ll take part in the memorable event recalled today. We’ll stand with palm branches and wave as the Patriarch of Jerusalem, Pierbattista Pizzaballa rides a donkey into the city. The teaming number of pilgrims who participate in this time-honored annual ritual recall with great emotion the event that took place at that same road nearly 2000 years ago. From there too, one can see the Mount of Olives towering even higher by almost 300 feet. The Kidron Valley , also mentioned today is found between Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives . It is deep and dangerous, with peaks and valleys that, without question, would create the aura of the slips and tumbles, the highs and lows of the drama of salvation that we reenact today. Also, right at the base of the Mount of Olives is the Garden of Gethsemani, where Jesus sweat blood, the apostles slept, and the ultimate betrayal by Judas took place. A large surface rock at this garden has been used to form the sanctuary of the Church of All Nations to remind us that the love we celebrate today reaches to the ends of the earth.

The liturgical name for today is Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, juxtaposing the victory of redemptive love and the fatality of ancient pride. Marking the beginning of the Christian Holy Week after the long period of Lenten fast and prayer, the Church enters today the most important and sacred week in the life of believers when the entire event of salvation becomes real in Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection.

Jesus enters as a triumphant king into his city, Jerusalem—the city of destiny. Yet there’s much less to indicate triumph. He chose to ride not a horse but a beast of burden. Roman military generals rode on horses when returning from successful expeditions. The donkey reflected the animal of the poor. The singing of Hosanna (in Hebrew: “Save us, we pray”), the spreading of cloaks and branches did not take his focus away from what awaited him.

The drama of his conviction, sentencing, inhuman treatment by the Jews and Roman soldiers that culminated in his death cannot fail to move the heart. Regardless how many times you’ve heard it, each time it is read, we feel our spirit moved. The death of the Lord was followed by earthquakes, tombs splitting open, and the raising of the dead, as heard in Matthew’s account. These events caused those hired to keep watch over him to cry, “Truly, this was the Son of God.” But the most important lesson would be the realization that Jesus needn’t suffer so grievously if we were righteous.

Hearing these words and looking at Jesus hung on the cross, we should see and sense the full gravity of sin. According to Sheen, a personal equation must be established between the crucifix and us, where each of us should read his or her autobiography. We see our pride in the crown of thorns, our lusts and carnality in the nail and the torn flesh, sins of avarice in the poverty and nakedness, our wandering from the path of goodness and forgetfulness of God in the pierced feet, our thievery in the riven hands, and our sins of alcoholism in the thirst.

God’s love and infinite mercy is also written there. The cross is the parchment on which it is written and Christ’s blood is the ink with which it is written. It is by his wounds that we’re healed, by his blood he ransomed us for God. There, right there on the cross, he forgave all our sins and nailed them finally. Our hearts are filled with wonder and gratitude at so great a gift.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord, Yr A, April 2, 2023

Fri, 31 Mar 2023 18:54:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 26, 2023

Fri, 24 Mar 2023 20:10:00 GMT

It was still dark as I was returning from early Mass at the convent. As I pulled to the driveway of the rectory, a middle-aged man was standing there waiting for me. He looked very downcast. I drew closer and asked why he looked very frightened. He started: “Father, please help me; I had a terrible dream.” Taking him to a corner, we sat down. “Now,” I said, “relax and share the experience with me.” He went on: “Fr., I dreamt that I died. I saw myself laid in state. Everyone was coming to view my corpse. Suddenly, the casket was closed on me, and then, and then...I saw myself lowered into the grave and in just seconds, heaps of sand falling on me. Then I woke.” He ended with a plea: “Fr., what can I do to avoid this?” I did my best to hold my laughter. I asked if he was a parishioner to which he answered “yes” and reminded me that three years before, I’d baptized his last child. That ceremony was the last time Tim stepped into any Church. “What about confession and communion?” I asked. It was the evening he wedded his wife—18 years before—that the priest pulled Tim aside and heard his unprepared confession; and Tim made his second communion in life at that Mass. The rest of the story is that I had before me a walking spiritual corpse who’d been laying in a grave of every kind of sin and crime for 41 years and more. The dream was a knock by Christ on Tim’s tomb to wake him from death, unbind him, so he could go meet the priest and live again. I visited St. Andrew’s a couple of years ago and saw Tim. He rushed out and gave me a big hug and told me he was the chairperson of St. Andrew’s Lay Discipleship. He said he was grateful to God (and to me) for the dream that liberated him from the chains of death and the grave. Quite a long story! Quite a resurrection story!

“Do you hear this knock on your own grave?” I do not suggest that Lazarus—the man Jesus raised from the dead—was a bad person whom the Lord freed from death. But I do suggest that some, and maybe several of us, are today wearing the accouterments of death and need to be freed. Sin does hold its captives in chains. Lack of prayer and spirituality, forgetfulness of God, impure acts and desires, love of money and security, consumerism, and neglect of the poor are all outfits of death and form a huge stone at the door of a sin-laden soul. Would you permit today that the stone be rolled away? Martha complained that Lazarus’ body would have started smelling after four days. Your soul could be as stinking as Lazarus’ decomposing body. No perfume can cure the smell of a sin-smeared soul. Only the Lord can roll away the stone and smear you with the scent of freedom, wholeness and holiness. Hugh of St. Victor said: “Damp wood kindles slowly...so are our carnal hearts. Touch them with the spark of the fear of God, or Divine Love, and the great clouds of evil passions and rebellious desires roll upwards. Then the soul grows stronger, the flame of love burns more hotly and brightly, the smoke of passion dies down, and the purified spirit rises to the contemplation of Truth.” Men are not free until they are set free by Christ. Death, grave, sin, slavery, oppression, and even law equally hold men and women in chains. By swapping these chains with that of Christ we become truly free, for “only the Christ-fettered are free” (Sheen).

Lazarus’ resurrection is not the resurrection that we await—he had to die again to attain that resurrection. His resurrection is one that is repeated each time we enter the confessional. There, the grave is busted and new life is gained. That is why the Church refers to baptism and penance as sacraments of the dead; they are sacraments given to those who are spiritually dead because of sin. Lent is a sure invitation to repentance that leads from death to life. Where sinful decay has set in, Lent and repentance bring rebirth and a flowering of Easter joy, especially for those to be born again at the Easter sacraments.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 26, 2023

Fri, 24 Mar 2023 20:10:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 19, 2023

Fri, 17 Mar 2023 13:33:00 GMT

Suppose all were blind but three of us, and we tell you that we could see the sun in the morning, and after twelve hours of daylight there’s night. Would you believe us? A fraction may, but a large number will tag our claim “delusional.” And if they have learned a little psychology and can statistically poll the number of people who strongly agree or not, they’ll infer that since they’re blind, everyone is. If we hold to our claim and say that there’s something like the rainbow, a blue sky and green trees, they’ll suggest that our claim was a complex based on wishful thinking and suggest we see a therapist to cure us of our curious wish for color.

Do you know that such is the attitude of people who live in sin, unhappiness and agony, who call divine truth a superstition or a myth? In their arrogance and blindness, they turn their backs on God with familiar statements, like: “I believe only what I see, feel or touch; ...I make my own decisions and I decide for myself what is right or wrong; ...the Church is a bunch of power-hungry men who control people’s lives and freedoms, especially women; ...priests are creepy men who sleep with children, etc.” A little extra wealth will make some boast that they’re happy here and wouldn’t need any sort of heaven hereafter.

Compare this attitude to that of the Pharisees in today’s Gospel. They were convinced that there was no way Jesus could be the Christ and added a threat: “If anyone acknowledged him as the Christ, he would be expelled from the synagogue.” So, when the former blind beggar told them that Jesus could be the Christ, they quipped: “Are you trying to teach us?” And because he was born blind, they added an insult: “You were born totally in sin.” But the man who had been healed had much better vision and insight than they did. His healing came progressively, unlike in Christ’s other miracles. He was first healed of physical blindness; then followed the miracle of spiritual sight, which also happened gradually. In the first miracle, he gradually started to see physical objects like everyone else; but in the second, faith was awoken in him; he had a spiritual insight that put him above, especially, the blind “know-it-all-Pharisees.”

Today’s miracle is a reminder that spiritual blindness wreaks more havoc than mere physical blindness. A man or woman caught up in the blind alleys of hatred, resentment, prejudice, passion and falsehood may refuse to see a better world. For example, you would have noticed that majority in today’s media, of either persuasion, suffer from such terrible blindness that it would require extraordinary intellectual integrity and divine intervention to dig them out of the dark alleys in which they’re trapped. I have never seen such blindness, anger and hysteria: Pure demonic infestation.

The blind man of today has something to teach all of us: We need to progressively encounter Jesus anew. In his case, the progression is made from seeing Jesus as a mere man to seeing him as a prophet . Eventually, when his spiritual sight is totally restored, he says, “I believe you are the Lord.” Like him, we received at the baptismal font the gift of faith, curing us of our spiritual blindness. We grew with that, and as our faith matured, our perception of Jesus also matured. We’ll keep maturing till our perception of Jesus reaches its richest form. The exciting thing about Jesus is that the more we learn about him, the greater He becomes. Sadly, in other relationships, the more we learn about our wife, husband, friend, or neighbor, the more their shortcomings are revealed.

Going back to our earlier story, suppose one of us who could see becomes so ridiculed that he finally plucks out his eyes. That would correspond to abandoning one’s faith because of the scorn and derision of the world. This Lent, resolve never to judge your life by the candlelight of the mediocrity and ordinariness of your spiritually blind neighbors; instead, glow in Divine Light.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 19, 2023

Fri, 17 Mar 2023 13:33:00 GMT

Today’s miracle is a reminder that spiritual blindness wreaks more havoc than mere physical blindness. A man or woman caught up in the blind alleys of hatred, resentment, prejudice, passion and falsehood may refuse to see a better world. For example, you would have noticed that majority in today’s media, of either persuasion, suffer from such terrible blindness that it would require extraordinary intellectual integrity and divine intervention to dig them out of the dark alleys in which they’re trapped. I have never seen such blindness, anger and hysteria: Pure demonic infestation.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 12, 2023

Fri, 10 Mar 2023 16:56:00 GMT

For the Greeks, Life came from water . Thales of Miletus philosophized: “Water is the urstoff of all things.” Could the Lord have agreed—when He asked the Samaritan woman for water? Imagine how chaotic life would turn in our cities if there is no supply of water for one full day. Nothing can replace a person’s thirst for water: not Coke, not wine, tea or juice, if you’re really thirsty. Water is the basic amenity which we didn’t make and which we find that we cannot live without. The Igbos of South-eastern Nigeria have a saying: “Mmiri enwe iro” (water has no enemy); so when it rains, it doesn’t discriminate. Water is so gentle that it follows the line of least resistance. But it can also be very destructive, unleashing floods and tsunamis, when it is ruffled. When calm, it provides avenues for voyagers to traverse the earth and goods and services to reach their destinations.

In the first reading, God made water gush out of rock to satiate the thirst of His people who cried out to Him. The desert thirst was, however, both a warning and an invitation for Israel to trust that God is always in their midst. Our Lenten fast invites us to an arid land where trust turns from worldly needs and desires to the provision made by God’s spirit who leads our spiritual journey .

When Jesus asked the Samaritan woman for water, it was her life—empty and lacking in the proper spiritual nutrients to support it that He beckoned her to offer to Him. His request for water was an allurement to inveigle and seize our utterly sin-laden soul—represented by the reprobate woman of Samaria—for the unction of the Spirit. It was a betrayal of sort: from the recklessness of sensual pursuits to the inebriation of the Spirit. Jesus asks us to turn our poverty over to Him and become enriched, to give our distress and gain joy, to surrender our chains and become free. When the strong asks help from the weak, it should be provided in haste with the hope that such help would attract greater benefits. When God asks you for life, you need not be stingy in offering Him that which belongs to Him. God is much more generous with His spirit than any rich man can ever be with his money. To the woman at the well, He says, “Whoever drinks the water that I will give will never be thirsty again.” He makes the point that we have a spiritual thirst, more profound than our physical thirst for water. It happens that some do not recognize this; hence, they’re unaware of their inner poverty and nakedness. But the Lord knows. He knew that the woman of Samaria—five times divorced—hasn’t had any good fortune finding the perfect guy. But she could find in Jesus her soul’s desire. He is the one of whom the Psalmist (42:1) says: “As a deer yearns for running stream, so my soul is yearning for you, my God;” prophet Isaiah (55:1): “Come, everyone who is thirsty;” and Jeremiah (17:13) calls, “a spring of fresh water.”

St. Augustine found after a life of dissipation that “Our hearts are made for God, and they will not rest, until they rest in God.” Someone else wrote: “Our hearts have a God-shaped hole in them; that only God can fill.” Charlie Brower wrote about the folly of trying to satisfy spiritual thirst with material things: “My friend Bill is one of those guys who’s still searching for success, even though he’s already found it...still scoring touchdowns, even though the game is over and won. He’s come to the end of the rainbow, but there’s no pot of gold there. He’s found the buried treasure, but it’s empty.” The point is: material success alone leaves us empty. There’s a void in us that no material object can fill. Man cannot live without God; the infinite haunts him constantly. As the sun rises without asking permission of the night so divine life invades us without consulting the darkness of our mind. Even when our intellects bar God’s passage by the false obstruction to belief that unsound thinking erected, He is able to penetrate to us through the secret door we have not known how to bolt (Sheen).

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 12, 2023

Fri, 10 Mar 2023 16:56:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 5, 2023

Fri, 03 Mar 2023 22:05:00 GMT

If you believe you’re too old to change course, think of Abraham and his wife Sarah. Abraham was 75 years old when God called him to abandon his land, his family and inheritance for an unknown land, with no clear mission. It was an adventure that he undertook by faith alone. Thus, Abraham’s journey into an uncharted future began—a journey which saw him depart from what is current day Iraq to Palestine. Had that journey not happened, we won’t be talking about a place today called the Holy Land. God might still have sent Jesus to us, but it is possible He could be called Jesus of Arusha—Tanzania rather than Jesus of Nazareth.

We often speak of our “Spiritual Journey” or our daily journal—coined from the French word jour— to describe a daily record of events. Here is a lesson to learn from Abraham’s journey, unlike Adam and Eve presented last Sunday: We do not know better than our maker whose predilection is that we find happiness in him. We’re never too old to start over or to make a change for the better. The fact of our existence is that the invisible and the unknown are much truer than what we can see, feel or touch. From the natural world, we often realize, surprisingly, that deep beneath a flowering meadow, a volcanic eruption has been forming for many many years. And that brings us to the mountain experience of Peter, James and John reported in today’s Gospel.

The story of the Transfiguration is masterfully narrated in today’s Gospel by Matthew who was not one of the players, and thus didn’t own this story. He was a reporter of an experience that Peter, James and John recounted to the Church. Hence, like the other evangelists, he unleashes his journalistic skills to report an experience that was almost impossible to describe. He searches for the most striking terms, yet unsatisfied as he notices that his expressions were far too limited to describe the reality. Mark, who is known for brevity in expression sounded even more laconic in his description of the event. For each of the apostles present at the Transfiguration, it marked a turning point in their perception of Jesus—an experience unlike any other in the visible world.

Jesus took Peter, James and John. Why not Judas, Thomas and Phillip? Because he knew those among his followers who best understood his teachings as well as those whose pantry of spiritual foods needed at the time a lot more supplies. Next, he led them up a high mountain. Why not the plain? Because divine realities are to be perceived from an exalted position, not in the plain. Spiritual life involves climbing a mountain from where we can be given the vision to perceive ultimate things. St. Theresa of Avila notes that there are no plains in the spiritual life. The spiritual plain is the cafeteria where the gullible pick and choose what aspect of God or His word to accept. Intentional Catholics remain on the incline.

We’re invited this Lent to climb the mountain with Jesus so that we may experience his glory and become similarly transfected (as scientists through a process called transfection deliberately introduce purified nucleic acid or DNA into mammalian cells to produce a desired protein). In essence, the life and glory of Jesus is introduced in us making us bask in his glory. Hence, Transfiguration is “the sacrament of our second regeneration” (CCC 556). Unlike Moses, who coming from Sinai as mediator between God and Israel exuded a reflected glory, Christ entered the cloud with a glory that is his own; a glory he revealed to a few chosen apostles who saw him converse with the greatest of the great—Moses and Elijah. Eternal reality dawned on them and they begged to remain there. But Jesus was preparing them for the Scandal of the Cros s so that amidst the doom and gloom that will accompany his saving death, they may be strengthened by this vision of the likeness of the glory of heaven.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Lent, Yr A, March 5, 2023

Fri, 03 Mar 2023 22:05:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Lent, Yr A, February 26, 2023

Sat, 25 Feb 2023 13:03:00 GMT

The season of grace is here once again, and we thank God for His special grace of redeeming love, which is made manifest in the seasons of the Church. Lent comes as an opportunity to awaken our spiritual senses and unite ourselves to the redeeming suffering and death of Christ, so that we may embrace fully God’s gift of salvation.

As is usual on every first Sunday of Lent, salvation’s two archrivals, namely, Jesus and the devil, are presented to us sparring in the interlude to the stupendous combat that would be finally cast at a place called Calvary. Their positions are clear—one is interested in stalling every effort to make us better and the other wants to offer everything, including his life, to ensure that we reap the priceless fruit of salvation. Their tactic, however, would dazzle some of us. While the devil presents us some of what our world would regard as common sense approach to solving problems, Jesus wants us to take a deep breath and look at the totality of the picture and even make difficult choices to avoid getting stuck along the way. The ‘common sense’ approach of the devil invites us to take on popular and desired affectations like providing food for the hungry, improving our PR status, and taking advantage of opportunities at our laps to amass wealth and popularity for ourselves and our progeny. Jesus’ approach is to tread carefully and subdue these desires so we may focus on the greater good of the kingdom. How we respond to the temptations that come our way reveals which of the two archrivals we have made the choice to camp with.

The first reading of today presents the prologue to this rivalry. In actuality, it is a rivalry that every minute of everyday happens in our senses, intellect and will. The story of creation of our first parents, their temptation and fall from grace is more a theological treatise than a historical oeuvre or presentation. It says that an All-knowing and All-powerful God created our first parents and placed them in a comfortable place, giving them everything needed to be happy forever. Then came this stranger who tells them that God deceived them by limiting the array of possibilities for their enjoyment. He proposed that they take on the very project which their maker made clear would ruin them. And you know what…? They believed the stranger. That is the problem of evil, a problem which St. Paul tries to explain in his letter to the Romans, which is today’s second reading. In summary, these passages tell us that evil is rooted in our decision to: 1, listen to the stranger who wants to ruin us; 2, make our own rules; and 3, stand in opposition to an all good God . If God limited our free will and left us like the plants and animals that do not have to worry about choosing between right and wrong, would that have served us better?

The story of the temptation of Jesus by the devil is cast to show us how the devil plots our downfall and how we can side with Christ to get him off our neck. Almost every temptation takes the same format in which Christ was tempted and uses similar materials: Bread, Glory and Possessions. Bread : Related to the need to satisfy bodily comforts with food and drink, sex and leisure. When ordered right, it produces good results. When ordered according to the devil’s script, it has calamitous effects: overindulgence, addiction, infidelity, divorce, abortion, etc. Glory : Related to the desire for attention, excitement, esteem, honor, etc. When ordered right, it shines divine light on our lives. When ordered wrongly, it leads to selfish ambitions, vanity, depression, suicide, etc. Possessions : Related to the desire to have and use stuff. When ordered right, it leads to real satisfaction. When ordered according to the devil’s script, it can be a major source of unhappiness. We should be as smart as Jesus who knows that to God, not the devil, belongs all things; hence, he could neither give them to Jesus, nor to us. We’re to boldly tell our adversary, as Jesus did, to get lost.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Lent, Yr A, February 26, 2023

Sat, 25 Feb 2023 13:03:00 GMT

As is usual on every first Sunday of Lent, salvation’s two archrivals, namely, Jesus and the devil, are presented to us sparring in the interlude to the stupendous combat that would be finally cast at a place called Calvary. Their positions are clear—one is interested in stalling every effort to make us better and the other wants to offer everything, including his life, to ensure that we reap the priceless fruit of salvation. Their tactic, however, would dazzle some of us. While the devil presents us some of what our world would regard as common sense approach to solving problems, Jesus wants us to take a deep breath and look at the totality of the picture and even make difficult choices to avoid getting stuck along the way. The ‘common sense’ approach of the devil invites us to take on popular and desired affectations like providing food for the hungry, improving our PR status, and taking advantage of opportunities at our laps to amass wealth and popularity for ourselves and our progeny. Jesus’ approach is to tread carefully and subdue these desires so we may focus on the greater good of the kingdom. How we respond to the temptations that come our way reveals which of the two archrivals we have made the choice to camp with.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, February 19, 2023

Fri, 17 Feb 2023 16:04:00 GMT

One late evening, two drunk motorcyclists strutted into a bar in Atmore, Alabama. Noisily, they ordered more drinks and headed to the right side of the bar where a gentleman was sitting alone enjoying a glass of soft drink. One of them grabbed the salt container and emptied its content on the head of the gentleman and the other knocked his coke off the counter into the man’s lap and laughed out loud at their own stupidity. The gentleman got up, went straight to the cashier, paid his bill and proceeded to leave, as the drunk bastards laughed even louder. The waitress who knew the gentleman was shocked that he did not react. She however congratulated him on his win three days before against former boxing champion, George Foreman. The gentleman was Evander Holyfield.

It was not to prevent Holyfield from knocking every teeth out of the mouths of the two drunks as adequate payback for their insult that Jesus asks his followers today to turn the other cheek. Rather, it was to emphasize the necessity of self-restraint for all disciples of the kingdom who would have to endure living in a world that already surrendered to all forms of nastiness.

The discussion on the Sermon on the Mount begun three Sundays ago continues today with two commandments that focus on the pattern of justice and equity required of disciples of Jesus, different from the prevalent code. The two commandments stream from the old law of talion or lex talionis —“an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”—and the law about love of neighbor.

Lex talionis or the law of revenge regards proportionate recompense for any injury suffered. It was designed to limit retaliation to no more than the injury suffered. Hence, lex talionis prohibits Holyfield from knocking off all the teeth of the drunks, thus limiting his revenge. In fact, rather than think of it as cruel and barbaric law, the law of talion could be considered an old law of mercy. But Jesus disagrees that mercy should be based on our instincts, considering that anger and propriety are not good neighbors. Moreover, given that mercy is also a divine attribute, disciples of the kingdom should, in showing mercy, imitate God. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, says Doctor King, would leave everyone of us blind and toothless. Similarly, turning the other cheek will leave nearly everyone with no teeth in our jaw. Not even Jesus turned the other cheek when he was struck by the Temple guard. His response, “why did you strike me?” shows that he wasn’t literally recommending turning your cheek, but letting love guide your response, instead of irascible cold vengeance. We have to sometimes swallow our pride to let love overcome hate. To offer our outer cloak and go extra mile when pressed into service reveal astonishingly the need to mortify our senses for nobler goals. In society, we’re to leave the job of proportional restitution to the civil authority and judges charged with maintaining law and order and vindicating the rights of the injured.

The second commandment about loving our neighbor as ourselves echoes the command to bear no hatred for a brother or sister, as we heard in the first reading from Leviticus 19. Unfortunately, this command leaves out anyone not considered a neighbor, and opens up the possibility of tolerating any hatred at all. Jesus dissents from this old law and offers something new—arguing that it lowers the bar to that of pagans. It must have startled his listeners to hear him suggest that they should love and pray for their enemies. It’s like asking Republicans in congress to go on a prayer retreat for President Biden or Democrats to send goodwill messages to Justice Thomas. The fact that we cannot even conjecture such ideas shows how far we’re from the command of Jesus to imitate the perfection of our Father. It’s only the Father’s perfect and selfless love which can cure the darkness of hatred and distrust among us.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, February 19, 2023

Fri, 17 Feb 2023 16:04:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, February 12, 2023

Fri, 10 Feb 2023 21:20:00 GMT

Whenever I see an icon on my phone asking me to update the software, I usually grow apprehensive, not knowing what changes are coming to the little machine. Sometimes, it’ll mean relearning everything you already know or are used to: because our little devices appear to have a mind of their own, which you’re expected to figure out. Yet, because we seem to have become sucked-in to technology, we patiently get to work and in no distant time, we learn it all and move on with our devices, even loving the new changes, until another call for update. The Christian life often sounds similarly like a constant call to update. When Jesus says that he has come not to abolish the law or the prophets but to fulfill, it sounds like a call to update our spiritual software. The word of God engages all time and epochs.

We have been following Matthew’s account of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount . Before we even get lost, let’s recap. After Jesus moved out of the house of Mary and Joseph—having come of age or so it seemed—He went to announce the message for which He came. We call it the announcement or Proclamation of the Kingdom with the starting call to repentance. His Mission Statement states: “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.” Next, He sees a crowd anxious to receive this message, and goes up the mountain. From there He starts to lay out His vision for the New Way . He issues eight blessings or Beatitudes that are connected with kingdom membership. As they got excited, He indicates that choosing the new way evinces nobility; hence, people of the New Way will be like salt which would season the earth and preserve it from corruption, and, like light that shines on all, revealing things hidden and paths clogged with dangerous obstacles to the kingdom. Furthermore, He warns them that should their salt become insipid or their light grow dim, they’ll not only lose the taste of the kingdom and miss their way, they’ll even lead other people astray. It’s from there that we arrive at the instructions of today, which illustrate how the New Way far outpaces the old order in clarity and perfection. For the next three Sundays, we’ll continue to follow Matthew’s famous mountain discourse of Jesus, recorded in chapters 5 through 7 of his Gospel.

Today’s discourse peers into our internal thoughts and even desires revealing how they can bear moral consequences, either for good or for bad. Jesus first states that there is something called “murder by intention.” We may never be able to physically kill someone, either because the opportunity does not present itself or because we lack the courage—or cowardice—it takes to murder someone. Yet, a definite intention to do so is enough to infer moral culpability. What should we guard against? Anger and hatred.

Similarly, we commit adultery not just when we’re caught with another person’s spouse. If that were all it takes, then those who engage in premarital sex, homosexual acts—in all ranges of the alphabet and +—as well as pedophiles and prostitutes would be exempt. Lustful eyes and heart, too, are as egregious as physical acts of adultery. In this online age, the act of adultery can be completed online through pornography and masturbation, indecent exposures through snapchat—aka sexting, hours upon hours in immoral chatrooms, indecent dressing meant to allure, etc. We must repeat this truth over and over to ourselves: pornography is adultery . Contrary to the view that the Church has become lenient with divorce, Jesus reiterates today that divorce is equally adultery. What should we guard against? Lust.

Finally, Jesus is spot on about the different forms of falsehood prevalent in our time. Whether they’re boldface lies, malicious twisting of other people’s words, innuendos, contradiction of facts—aka alternative facts, fake news, and the like are all from the evil one. Children of the kingdom should flee from lies.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, February 12, 2023

Fri, 10 Feb 2023 21:20:00 GMT

Whenever I see an icon on my phone asking me to update the software, I usually grow apprehensive, not knowing what changes are coming to the little machine. Sometimes, it’ll mean relearning everything you already know or are used to: because our little devices appear to have a mind of their own, which you’re expected to figure out. Yet, because we seem to have become sucked-in to technology, we patiently get to work and in no distant time, we learn it all and move on with our devices, even loving the new changes, until another call for update. The Christian life often sounds similarly like a constant call to update. When Jesus says that he has come not to abolish the law or the prophets but to fulfill, it sounds like a call to update our spiritual software. The word of God engages all time and epochs.

Today’s discourse peers into our internal thoughts and even desires revealing how they can bear moral consequences, either for good or for bad. Jesus first states that there is something called “murder by intention.” We may never be able to physically kill someone, either because the opportunity does not present itself or because we lack the courage—or cowardice—it takes to murder someone. Yet, a definite intention to do so is enough to infer moral culpability. What should we guard against? Anger and hatred.

Finally, Jesus is spot on about the different forms of falsehood prevalent in our time. Whether they’re boldface lies, malicious twisting of other people’s words, innuendos, contradiction of facts—aka alternative facts, fake news, and the like are all from the evil one. Children of the kingdom should flee from lies.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, February 5, 2023

Fri, 03 Feb 2023 19:47:00 GMT

Though the term “witness” is attached irrevocably to the exercise of religion, many Christians prefer to live like their fellow men and women in the world and ignore the import of the name Christian. The atheistic modern society would want Christians to change our beliefs to conform to the world and popular perceptions. The Bible, we’re told, is an archaic literature that no longer serves our time; so, we should overgrow reliance on an old creed and way of life. Many individual Christians and denominations have bought the lie and joined the rank and file of those who want to strip the world of godly moral values. But here comes Jesus today in his Sermon on the Mount instructing about our exalted position in relation to the world: “You are the salt of the earth; you are the light of the world.”

First, he says, “You are the salt of the earth.” What could our Lord be saying? Two things: one—salt adds flavor to our food and drinks. Imagine cooking an important meal with no salt. The food will taste bland and though it may look quite appetizing, it would not pass for a tasty dish. Two—before we learned to preserve our food in freezers and refrigerators, the ancients used salt for this purpose. For example, salt kept meat from going rotten, and in fact, the Greeks had a saying that salt was to a dead body like its soul. Salt was at a time the most important commodity in the world. Wars were fought for control of salt mines, and ancient Rome used salt to compensate its soldiers and even pay for commodities; hence, from the Latin word for salt salarium , we derive the term “salary.” These explanations are necessary to help unpack Jesus’ saying that we are the salt of the earth. Not only are we to give flavor to an insipid world as does salt to the dish, it is also our vocation to defeat the corruption of the world in the same manner that salt attacks dead meat. The flavor and purity of the Christian is so essential that people should be able to take a cue from us about nobility of life, and, like gallant soldiers, we’re to give the salt of protection to our society attacked by our vicious enemy—the devil. Our Lord is literally saying that if we fail to give flavor to the world, preserve moral virtues, retain godly values, and defend our spiritual borders, we are good for nothing. The world would trample on us; and unfortunately, it appears that’s where currently we are or the road to which we are dangerously heading.

Second, Jesus says “You are the light of the world.” He compares believers to Jerusalem, the city set on a hill. It’s a call to action, not words; to shine light, and not hide away. St. John Chrysostom was convinced that if we truly lived in imitation of Christ, obeyed God’s precepts, bore injuries without retaliation, rendered good for evil, blessed when we’re cursed, there’ll be no more pagan in the world. It is because of our failures to be light that the world is such a hateful place filled with the darkness of unbelief and Satanic lies.

Let us take as example St. John Henry Newman, who, illumined by Christ, prayed as follows: “Dear Jesus, help me to spread Thy fragrance everywhere I go. Flood my soul with Thy spirit and life. Penetrate and possess my whole being so utterly that all my life may only be a radiance of Thine. Shine through me, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Thy presence in my soul. Let me look up and see no longer me but only Jesus! Stay with me, and then I shall begin to shine as Thou shinest, so to shine as to be a light to others; the light, O Jesus, will be all from Thee; none of it will be mine; it will be Thou shining on others through me. Let me thus praise Thee in the way Thou dost love best by shining on those around me. Let me preach Thee without preaching, not by words but by my example, by the catching force of the sympathetic influence of what I do, the evident fullness of the love my heart bears Thee. Amen.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, February 5, 2023

Fri, 03 Feb 2023 19:47:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, January 29, 2023

Sat, 28 Jan 2023 09:41:00 GMT

Jesus' mission statement, heard last Sunday says: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Today marks the announcement of His vision for the kingdom. Unlike the commandments of old that carried prohibitions, He issues benedictions. In place of “Thou shall not” we hear “You shall be blessed.” The Eight Beatitudes form a litany of blessings spoken by our Lord from an exalted position. Just as the law that issued prohibitions came from the mountain, the beatitudes, (also called “Sermon on the Mount”) are addressed from the mountain: both evoking distinctive arrays of exaltation. The new vision, however, arose not as a correction for disorderly conduct; rather, it carries a message embedded in God’s love and the responsibility to which He calls the new people of the new covenant. The beatitudes teach that through Christ we gain fullness of blessing for conditions that fall often out of sync with worldly paradigms and appeal.

Finally, Jesus emphasized the eschatological nature of the beatitudes and personalizes it when he turns from “blessed are those” to say “blessed are you,” and asks you to rejoice and be glad over any affliction you suffer in his name, because you’ll not fail to receive your reward .

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, January 29, 2023

Sat, 28 Jan 2023 09:41:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, January 22, 2023

Fri, 20 Jan 2023 19:15:00 GMT

From the theme of “Manifestation to the Gentiles,” on the Epiphany of the Lord, to last Sunday’s theme of the “Lamb of God who takes away sins,” we’re greeted on this 3rd Sunday of the Year with the theme of “light that overpowers darkness.” The arrest of John the Baptist is used by Matthew to introduce this theme of darkness begging for the light which only Christ can bring. Christ is the true light of all nations. He became the light for the forgotten towns of Naphtali and Zebulun. These were called the “Lost Tribes of Israel,” because they were decimated by the Assyrians in 722 BC, but later became influential, because Christ, the true Light of the World, would begin his ministry there and be called “Jesus of Nazareth.” In the first reading and the gospel, both Isaiah and Matthew referred to this city by the original names of the tribes that earlier inhabited it, namely Naphtali and Zebulun. Mere mention of these names would conjure a feeling of dread in the minds of the people who would remember nothing but the assault by the Assyrians. But Matthew, quoting Isaiah, declares the Good News that their darkness has been overpowered by the light of Christ.

In the summer of 2007, it was reported that while a group of tourists were inside the Arch of St. Louis, the lights suddenly went out. Among those trapped in the dark were two children, an eight year old boy and her five year old sister. It was a very scary situation, especially for kids. As the little girl began to cry, her eight year old brother was heard telling his sister, “Don’t worry, Amy! There’s a man around who knows how to turn the lights back on.” As he said this, the lights came back.

Each of us needs a voice that promises hope in our darkness. Perhaps our own darkness is fear, sickness, some hurt or grudge or a pattern of unhealthy behavior in which we’re sliding and using drugs to numb our brain and conscience. Our only help might be a thorough illumination of our darkness, a shining of light to our darkest nights and secrets so they can become cauterized and healed. A question that each of us should direct to no other than ourselves is: “Where in my life do I need some shining of the light of Christ?”

Certainly, we have areas of our lives that need some illumination, without which we may remain in our darkness and confusion. The light of Christ brings about clarity, compassion, love and healing. Gradually, we’ll realize that we have more peace, more joy, more wholeness, and have become more lightsome, and able to fix other minor dark spots both in our lives and those of our loved ones. If we honestly seek him, we’ll realize that He is that man around the “arch of our soul” who knows how to turn on the light and banish our fears.

Cardinal John Henry Newman was someone who knew something about this light, understood it, and sought it himself. During the period when every long distance travel was by boat, Newman was returning from Italy to his native England when his boat was detained in Sicily. There, he fell ill and nearly died. During his convalescence, he penned down a poem that is today used as hymn for night prayer, describing his search for the light of Christ:

Lead kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; lead Thou me on
The night is dark and I am far from home; lead Thou me on
Keep Thou my feet, I do not ask to see; the distant scene, one step enough for me.

As we enter the week of Prayer for Christian Unity in this cold deadness of winter, we pray for the light of Christ, which alone would lead us out from the ghettos of isolation to the bond of love and unity. St. Paul reprimands us for creating and holding on to factions and claiming that we understand and possess Jesus more than others. After over 500 years of division, Christians of all persuasions must let in the light of Christ to destroy our darkness of division.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, January 22, 2023

Fri, 20 Jan 2023 19:15:00 GMT

In the summer of 2007, it was reported that while a group of tourists were inside the Arch of St. Louis, the lights suddenly went out. Among those trapped in the dark were two children, an eight year old boy and her five year old sister. It was a very scary situation, especially for kids. As the little girl began to cry, her eight year old brother was heard telling his sister, “Don’t worry, Amy! There’s a man around who knows how to turn the lights back on.” As he said this, the lights came back.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, January 15, 2023

Sat, 14 Jan 2023 20:57:00 GMT

John the Baptist is unlike many of us in many ways. While we're more than happy to wash our hands of the responsibility for our hapless actions, and even blame others, including the devil (...the devil made me do it), we have a natural tendency to take the credit when things under our watch turn out right, though we might not have contributed effectively to those outcomes. John the Baptist, however, refused to be a “wannabe Messiah;” though his entire entourage thought him to be the Messiah and wanted to proclaim him one. He refused that accolade: “I am not the one you imagine me to be” (John 1:20).

Today’s Gospel starts with John pointing to the people, the Lamb of God. Once he saw Jesus, he proclaimed the words we hear at every Mass “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). He went further to describe the characteristics of the Messiah, one of which is that “the Spirit will come down like a dove from the sky and remain upon him; hence, he will baptize with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:32-33). John the Baptist will never take credit for a feat he didn’t perform or a role for which he hasn’t been called. He is content with his true identity as “the voice,” and not “the Word.”

But there’s something curious about this Messiah: He is a Lamb. Lamb? Imagine a football team emerging for the Superbowl with the name: “The Lambs.” That’s a name to which hard-hitting players wouldn’t want to be associated. Names like the Panthers, the Tigers, the Lions, the Wolfs, the Hurricanes, and the Cowboys rather depict strength. Isn’t it so? What is rather strange is that the one who is truly Almighty chose a rather humble name for his own team: “The Lamb.” Does it teach us something about how the Almighty sees and understands real strength and the spiritual meaning of power?

You may know that the Book of Revelation referred to Jesus as the “Lion of the tribe of Judah” (Rev 5:5), but the symbolism of the Lamb is more intimately connected with his Messianic role. In fact, the Lamb symbol does have a rich history that is associated with precise salvific events: the lamb of the Passover (Exodus 12:5), the “lamb without blemish or defect” (1 Peter 1:19), the lamb of the Last Supper (Mark 14:12), and the Lamb that “appeared as if it had been slain” (Rev 5:6). This victorious Lamb is the one of which Handel wrote in the Oratorio, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain,” often depicted in Christian art as wounded, yet holding triumphantly a pennant victory flag. Significantly, the lamb is the animal that sacrifices everything: its wool, its skin, its flesh. It keeps nothing to itself, and hence, is God’s chosen sign of victory. Christ won the victory for us by saving us from our sins.

Some Christians, as many in our world, have difficulty grappling with this idea that Christ frees us from our sin. Perhaps they do not understand because sin is like living in a bubble. The culprits do not see it. We often do not see how sin affects us, how it damages our relationships, and causes us to hurt each other. Recent events on the national stage show that we are more likely to shove sin away and blame other people, rather than look inward to see the terrible cancer eating our lives away. The boldface lies that are enforced in print and electronic media about what constitutes the essence of the human person shows that we prefer decay and decadence than revealed truth. The lamb theology is what the world generally misses in the clamor for power and prestige. The world will readily hand the flag of victory to the Caesars, the Ayatollah's, the Washington's, etc.; but Christians declare that victory belongs to the Lamb through whom alone our sins are washed away, and Who speaks words of gentleness, love, and peace. We declare the unthinkable: that the lamb is stronger than the wolf, and the gentlest are often the toughest.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Yr A, January 15, 2023

Sat, 14 Jan 2023 20:57:00 GMT

You may know that the Book of Revelation referred to Jesus as the “Lion of the tribe of Judah” (Rev 5:5), but the symbolism of the Lamb is more intimately connected with his Messianic role. In fact, the Lamb symbol does have a rich history that is associated with precise salvific events: the lamb of the Passover (Exodus 12:5), the “lamb without blemish or defect” (1 Peter 1:19), the lamb of the Last Supper (Mark 14:12), and the Lamb that “appeared as if it had been slain” (Rev 5:6). This victorious Lamb is the one of which Handel wrote in the Oratorio, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain,” often depicted in Christian art as wounded, yet holding triumphantly a pennant victory flag. Significantly, the lamb is the animal that sacrifices everything: its wool, its skin, its flesh. It keeps nothing to itself, and hence, is God’s chosen sign of victory. Christ won the victory for us by saving us from our sins.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Epiphany of the Lord, Yr A, January 8, 2023

Fri, 06 Jan 2023 22:48:00 GMT

As I reflected on the star which guided the Magi, I thought about many of you who come to this church from near and far distances: EufauIa, Indianola, Savanna, Kiowa, etc. Some of you come twice or more a week for Mass or for Faith Formation or to help in aspects of the Church’s life where you volunteer. I pray that each journey brings you closer to Christ, the Star of your life.

Today’s feast celebrates the great manifestation of Christ to the nations. The word Epiphany derives from the Greek word for “manifestation” or “showing forth.” In a true spiritual sense, Epiphany is the actual feast of Christmas, for today our Great God manifested Himself as the Light of all the nations. In fact, today, our brethren in the Eastern Churches celebrate Christmas. For them, God’s coming into the world was fulfilled not as much by the birth of a child as by His auspicious manifestation to the world, for children are born every day but not every birth of a child draws such extraordinary guests and gifts from distant lands. St. Teresa speaks about our search for God hidden in a child as God concealing Himself, yet giving us signals (the star) of His whereabouts, as a parent playfully hides from a toddler, to encourage the child to walk.

When I think of how incredible this story sounds, I can only imagine to what degree the coming of Christ and His life has impacted peoples of different nationalities, race and tongue. In hindsight we often think that anyone with any sense should be persuaded by the story and become a believer, while, in fact, the opposite is more probable. Take a two thousand years’ leap and reflect on what we’re asking people to believe: that God suddenly decided that He would like to become one of us, then enters the womb of an unmarried woman, and was born in a smelly doghouse, then grew up learning carpentry, but later became an itinerant teacher performing all kinds of feat that got him into trouble with the Roman authorities who had him tortured and crucified, only for him to come alive after three days in the grave. Sale me a story!

It only gets more astonishing when we announce in today’s feast that so-called wise men followed a star from a great distance, made inquiries about the birth of a baby-king, worshipped at the feet of a tiny baby lying in a manger, gave gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, and chose to disobey the king who aided their search. Friends, this story isn’t as compelling as we often think it is. But that’s what makes it extraordinary and why it calls for profound meditation. We’ve heard it a thousand times and the same Jesus who revealed Himself to us with the infusion of faith in Him calls us to reveal Him to others. It’s unlikely that we’ll achieve this through a convincing argument. Others will be brought to Him by something we evince, something we manifest, and which they see in us—faith, hope, love, goodness, peace, and joy, rarely seen elsewhere.

We’ll become the modern day Magi, walking by faith, inspiration, love and intuition on our long and mysterious journey to see, no longer a baby, but our King. We are the modern day stargazers desperate to see our Superstar. And in the words of McKarns, we carry our gifts of virtue and goodness, like the nuggets of gold fit for a King. We also bring our pains on which He pours the healing balm of His love—myrrh; and we offer frankincense—our prayers, as priestly people united with Christ, our Great High Priest.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Epiphany of the Lord, Yr A, January 8, 2023

Fri, 06 Jan 2023 22:48:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God Yr A, January 1, 2023

Fri, 30 Dec 2022 22:25:00 GMT

Whenever my friend Vera calls, she’ll ask, “What’s new?” So, whenever I see her number, I’ll go into search mode to figure out whether there’s anything new to share. People are obsessed with novelty—some dread things new while the majority are ever in search of something new—new dress, new news, new people to meet, new movie and new job, new car and so on. No one seems to want new diagnoses, new sickness, new pain, new doctor (unless you have to), and new worries. Hence, new doesn’t always translate into good or great. This new temporal year, I can only wish that it is filled with hope and happiness for you. So, Happy New Year!

Each New Year, we make resolutions. Who remembers their resolution last year, which now is old, gone and forgotten? Before you make another resolution, think about where you dumped previous years’ resolutions. What good are they if we do not, as Mary did, treasure them and reflect daily on them in our hearts. Resolutions that do not stream from inspired and measured reflections accompanying the derivatives of grace usually fall by the wayside.

Today the Universal Church is not concerned about your new year— the Church already celebrated New Year on the First Sunday of Advent —rather, she celebrates both the Octave of Christmas and the Solemnity of Mary Mother of God —two movements of the liturgy that are so fused together that they’re inseparable. First, we celebrate octaves for the greatest feasts of the Church. There are just two of them: Easter and Christmas. Octave is a Latin expression for eight days, meaning that the eight days from Christmas to the feast of today form liturgically speaking a single day. The grandeur of the feast of Christmas is such that it takes eight full days to celebrate this single event. Note that the Octave of Christmas is different from the Twelve Days of Christmas. Second, we celebrate on the Octave of Christmas the Solemnity of Mary Mother of God, or in Greek, Theotokos; a suitable way to conclude the octave and to remind us about the centrality of Mary in the incarnation of the Word of God. Her role in the divine economy as mother and child is quixotic. She would learn to harmonize contrary positions. As mother, she would arouse the heights of her maternal instincts to cuddle and protect her God, without being overprotective to her Protector. As child, she would tarry in unconditional and unwavering docility to the will of her God who would for thirty years or so share the same roof with her. Maintaining the proper balance for this extravagantly chivalrous role requires grace so extreme that only the likes of Mary would be so richly endowed. Hence, the angel greeted her with the words: “Hail, full of Grace” and the Church so emphatically calls her “Holy Mary, Mother of God.”

The events in Mary’s life recorded in scripture bear witness to her often torturous role as Mother of her God and a child or disciple of God. Take for example, the Presentation in the Temple. Simeon bluntly prophesied that her child will be a sign of contradiction and that a sword would pierce her heart. Ding-Ding! Next, she loses him at their first temple visit. Upon finding him after three days’ search, she reacts with maternal instinct, “Son, why have you done this to us?” only to be reminded “cutely,” to say the least, about the so-called “Father’s business.” Here again, we hear the words of today’s Gospel: “Mary kept all these things in memory” (Lk 2:51). She is constantly and consistently going inward to reflect on the Word that she carried so intimately in her maternal womb. Jesus would again give credence to this when he diverts attention from the womb that carried Him and the breast on which He suckled to project a more important role: that of “hearing the Word of God and observing it.” Either way the reference is to Mary; hence, she is the perfect disciple and the Ivy League to God.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God Yr A, January 1, 2023

Fri, 30 Dec 2022 22:25:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) Yr A, December 25, 2022

Fri, 23 Dec 2022 21:50:00 GMT

It is important to note that the major celebrations of the life of Christ kick off at night. Think of Easter—the greatest feast of the Church, and Christmas—the celebration of the birth of Jesus. The idea that the world was filled with darkness until the light of Christ overcame the darkness is central to Christology. The darkness in question isn’t a material darkness. It is the darkness of sin which strikes even greater terror than the mere absence of the light of the sun. Then the one who is called ‘Sun of Righteousness’ arose and confounded that night. Only He came as a helpless, gentle, dependent, vulnerable, innocent child—the Babe of Bethlehem.

The world would no longer be the same. His coming was like a worldwide volcano, splitting time in two. All who lived before Him were consigned to a category called BC (Before Christ), and those coming after Him live in a time that is His, namely AD (Anno Domino, Year of the Lord). He reigns over all, even those who do not accept Him or mock and deride Him. For, if we say that today is December 25, 2022, we proclaim that it has been two thousand and twenty-two years since He came. Someone may not believe in Him, yet inadvertently acknowledges His presence and dominion in the world.

Often we hear about the commercialization of Christmas or about atheistic groups that rise up to make noise and—as some would say—‘take Christ out of Christmas.’ No other person is so great that his or her birthday brings about such controversy. When we celebrate Washington’s Birthday, no rabble rouser rises up to suggest that their mom’s or dad’s birthday is being forgotten, and in opposition erect their monument beside Washington’s. But Washington, Buddha, Muhammad, or your own mom and dad are only human beings. Jesus is God, who became human. The opposition to Christmas was prophesied by Simeon when he said, “Behold this child is destined for the rise and fall of many in Israel. He is a sign to be contradicted, so that the secret thoughts of many will be laid bare” (Lk 2:23f). Opposition to Christ reveals the envy, discontent and rage in many hearts. Opposition to Christ started with Herod, then his own people, then Pilate, then the emperors and continues to our time. We shouldn’t be surprised. For, who has ever had his or her birth prophesied, and upon coming, time changed? Who has ever come into this world with the sole purpose of dying? All of us come to live and we’re sad when someone passes. On the contrary, death was His destiny; and dying, He brought life to all.

God’s coming into the world is the greatest act of humility to which we are called to emulate. The humility in question is not so much about being born in a stable—several children in poor countries are born in worse places. The humility in question is about divinity taking another form—that of humanity. It is a mystery which only shepherds and wise men could grasp. Shepherds—because they knew that they knew nothing. Wise men—because they knew that they didn’t know everything. That explains why you wouldn’t find college professors, congressmen and senators, lawyers, and media pundits around the manger. That would be too incomprehensible for them.

God became man to elevate humanity to the divine status. Five levels of life are distinguished, namely—the chemical, the plant, the animal, the human, and the divine. Christmas is like the chemical taking on the nature of plant, or like the Christmas poinsettias dancing around the altar, or your cat telling you welcome and reciting Shakespeare to you. Christmas is humanity transcending beyond itself to become divine. But before that could happen, God chose to first become man (like man becoming a cat or grass). That is why Christmas invites us to be as humble as God chose to be in Christ. For heaven may be high but the door to it is extremely low. We must stoop to enter therein.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas) Yr A, December 25, 2022

Fri, 23 Dec 2022 21:50:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent Yr A, December 18, 2022

Fri, 16 Dec 2022 18:31:00 GMT

The German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, would love our first reading of today, which seems to align with his strange attempt at theologizing, found in his article on “Building, Dwelling, Thinking.” Did you notice the play on words in that reading about building and dwelling in a house? David was thinking of building a house for the Lord to dwell. The Lord, in turn, through the prophet Nathan, is telling David that He Himself will build a house for David and his progeny to dwell forever. David had the thought to build a house for the Lord to dwell. What kind of house? A house of cedar and precious stones. In his thinking, the tent of meeting was too fragile a dwelling for the ark of the Lord. He didn’t realize that equally fragile are houses of stone and cedar. Twice, the temple of Jerusalem—work of man’s hands—was destroyed, and none is standing presently. Only God can build a house that lasts forever. That was his promise to David.

The actual words used by Prophet Nathan are: “The Lord Himself will make you a House.” God isn’t going to gather stone, wood and mortar to build; rather, as the maker par excellence, He plans to transform David into an enduring House. How did God do this? The ark where His glory dwelt and the symbol of the old covenant got lost or hidden (II Mac 2:4-8), marking the end of that wantonly broken covenant. Jeremiah, who hid the ark, said that it would reappear when God gathers His people together again and shows them His mercy.

The reappearance of the ark did occur a generation later when the words of the prophets became fulfilled that “a virgin shall conceive and bear a son whose name will be Emmanuel” (Is 7:14). The word Emmanuel is a Hebrew expression with root in the preposition “ immanu -El,” meaning “ with us -Lord” or God-with-us . And those are the words we hear from the angel today as he tells this Virgin of Promise , “...the Lord is with you.” In Mary, God has completed the house into which He promised to build David. In her, rather than in a house of stone or cedar, God found a dwelling. In her, the lost ark reappeared—in a word, it took flesh. As the Word of God, namely Jesus, became flesh, so, the ark that bore the Word preceded Him in taking flesh. This is why Mary is called the Ark of the New Covenant , which first took flesh in order to give flesh to God’s Word. At her Visitation to Elizabeth, Mary would reiterate the words of Jeremiah in 2 Maccabees 2:16 that, “God has remembered His mercy” (Lk 1:54-55). But it was Zachariah who captured the essence of the house that God promised to build for David when he said: “He has raised up a horn of salvation for us, in the house of David His servant,” and continuing, said: “through the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high has come to visit us.”

Mary was no dullard. She asked the angel a scientific question: “How can this be since I do not know man?” L ong before modern biology and skeptics put a query to the Virgin Birth, Mary had asked the scientific “How?” We see in Mary a beautiful tinge of toughness; for though she believed, she still questioned. The angel answers that, in her case, conception and birth will result without regard to human love, but not without regard to Divine Love. To solidify her faith and abate any fears, the angel referred her to another sign showing that nothing is impossible to God: Elizabeth’s pregnancy happened without regard to age as Mary’s own pregnancy would happen without regard to man. Yet, Joseph would be a veritable instrument to counter any shocker. In public appearance, the child would be thought of and regarded as the son of Joseph; thus the reputation of the Virgin was conserved. According to Sheen, if Mary had become a Mother without a spouse, it would have exposed the mystery of Christ’s birth to ridicule, and would become a scandal to the weak. Be prepared to bear Him in your heart and produce fruits of love, joy and peace.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent Yr A, December 18, 2022

Fri, 16 Dec 2022 18:31:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent Yr A, December 11, 2022

Fri, 09 Dec 2022 22:17:00 GMT

occasion in our life we’ve asked a similar question as John the Baptist did today. We often wonder and even ask Jesus: “Are you really the one who is supposed to save the world? Then, why are you not stepping up and doing it? See the mess in which the world is; look how truth is perverted; see how bad people progress and the innocent suffer; look how little Emily who has done nothing wrong is suffering from cancer. Whether you’ve been tempted to take the atheistic position that there’s no God or that He doesn’t care, the answer that Jesus offers is that you look at the glass as half-full rather than half-empty. Yes, God is doing His work, bringing the Good News to the poor and deliverance to captives. The quest for personal solitude may blind us from seeing with the eyes of faith. We need to evoke the wisdom of the elder James who calls us today to “take as our models in suffering, hardship, and patience... the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord” (James 5:10).

The year was roughly AD 31. John was ‘languishing’ in a Southern Palestinian jail. He’d been in that dungeon located in the fortress of Machaerus overlooking the Dead Sea for six months. Prior to that, he’d announced to all the imminent arrival of the Messiah who would make all things right. Well, bad for him, he’d stepped on a lot of toes. He called people “brood of vipers,” “enemies of righteousness,” told them they were sinners, should repent or burn. Everyone tolerated John the Disturber until he publicly chastised king Herod about his adultery with Herodias—his brother’s wife. For daring to make such politically incorrect statement, he was thrown in jail.

John the Baptist would not be the last person to suffer for proclaiming the truth. We experience today a vehement resistance to truth. Hardly do people give straight forward answers to questions of right and wrong. Facts are molded to suit the desires of the populace who seek flattery rather than truth. Truth has been declared unattainable and unknowable—so, you’re told not to bother about seeking it. If you fan your errors hard enough, they can become “your truth,” and you can sell it to the morally unfree society. Books, videos and pressure groups that justify every behavior are in abundance. Forget about universal laws; what’s important is how compelling your words are. The 10 Commandments are but 10 suggestions. Several Christian groups have discarded the biblical truth that we will be judged according to our deeds. Judgment turns to the farce that happens in some law courts, where you can sway a jury to your side by just making yourself likeable.

Yet, I know that not everyone has bought into this sting operation against truth. If you’re still attracted to the truth, not minding whether or not it is popular or politically correct, then this Sunday is your day. It is called Gaudete Sunday (Rejoice Sunday), because both the prophet Isaiah, the elder apostle James, John the Baptist, and the Lord Jesus Himself call us to experience true joy. That joy comes your way when you examine your conscience and discover that you need God’s mercy. Also, you may have found that you missed Mass on Sunday and the past one or two Holy Days of Obligation (All Saints and Immaculate Conception), that you have cheated your employer, employee or someone else, that you have told lies against others, that you have not contributed to the Church, that you have received the Eucharist with grave sins in your heart, etc., etc. Someone may say: “I don’t agree that those things are sinful.” You are free to live in your make-belief world. But if you believe that the Church cannot prescribe bad spiritual medicine to you, then examine your conscience, confess your sins, and win God’s pardon this Advent. You will certainly experience the peace and joy that the Savior brings at His birth.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent Yr A, December 11, 2022

Fri, 09 Dec 2022 22:17:00 GMT

John the Baptist would not be the last person to suffer for proclaiming the truth. We experience today a vehement resistance to truth. Hardly do people give straight forward answers to questions of right and wrong. Facts are molded to suit the desires of the populace who seek flattery rather than truth. Truth has been declared unattainable and unknowable—so, you’re told not to bother about seeking it. If you fan your errors hard enough, they can become “your truth,” and you can sell it to the morally unfree society. Books, videos and pressure groups that justify every behavior are in abundance. Forget about universal laws; what’s important is how compelling your words are. The 10 Commandments are but 10 suggestions. Several Christian groups have discarded the biblical truth that we will be judged according to our deeds. Judgment turns to the farce that happens in some law courts, where you can sway a jury to your side by just making yourself likeable.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent Yr A, December 4, 2022

Fri, 02 Dec 2022 19:28:00 GMT

Years ago, I made the resolution not to watch the political media stations in TV. So, whenever, I find time in front of the TV, my channel of choice is the National Geographic Channel . There, the big cats—tigers, lions, Chita, leopards are the lords of the wild, and they easily made meal of all other wildlife, big or small. Yet, occasionally, I’ll see a baboon or—the really intriguing one—a coyote or one of the wolves tear a baby tiger to pieces. Life in the wild is never pretty: the reason it’s called wildlife. But one can’t escape noticing that life in modern society has become as bilious as wildlife. The lives of public figures are often grill for the media meal. Insult and calumny fall easily from the pens and lips of many in the media who seek one more ingredient to add to their soup of slander. As worked up as society is presently, our remedy would be the prophetic voice of Isaiah who proclaims peaceful coexistence between the wolf and the lamb, the calf and the lion; and going on, republicans and democrats, the media and the populace, the college professor and the factory worker, etc., etc.

I doubt that we will ever see a world like Isaiah described. Yet, prayers must be offered for the healing of our divisions. I surmise that only Jesus, the Prince of Peace can do this. Unless we run to him, the only peace we’ll experience going on in our society will be that of the cemetery. Clearly, something terrible is happening to our collective psyche: We are no longer able to tell each other the truth; we fear correcting our children and those placed in our charge; we are unable to argue reasonably for any position; any instance of disagreement causes the trauma of macroaggression needing some ‘safe healing spaces’ to shelter from disconcerting moods; we have airbrushed sin away and have turned religion into cherry vanilla ice cream; we have detached from God and turned on each other. I heard recently that a social-media panic ensued in one of our colleges because someone saw a priest in white robe, with a cincture and rosary beads tied to his waist and identified him as someone “in a KKK outfit holding a whip.” Thank God the priest wasn’t lynched; but a pity that the children we send to college cannot identify a priest when they see one. We are gradually being overrun by hysteria, charlatanry and obscurantism.

God sends John the Baptist this Advent to awaken in us the sense of responsibility and the need to seek healing. St. Paul echoing the same message adds that we must think in harmony with one another. To the men and women of our time John might as well be “John the Disturber, ” upsetting people’s warped perceptions. However, John’s message of repentance and restoration is the only healing balm for our sin condition. He announces a coming wrath from which we must flee. We must repent from our sins and not think that we only blew our cool. He asks us to produce good fruits as evidence of our repentance. He wants us to be a voice for good, not a whisper; a burning torch, not a dying bulb. John’s austere life carries a message to abandon our pursuit of illusory wealth and pleasure which foster a false sense of security. He invites us to open our lives to the indwelling of the Holy Spirit with His sevenfold gifts that Isaiah prophesied: a spirit of wisdom and understanding, of counsel and strength, of knowledge, purity and the fear of the Lord .

Some would prefer John the Baptist to tell them: “Have a nice day” or “you’re cool.” There are many who will feel happy if that’s the only message they heard in today’s homily. If ever you need such feel good sermon this Advent, I advise that you tune in to the likes of Osteen or pay money to attend their concert. But to bury sin with such socio-economic buzzwords is to leave us as we are and sell Christ out, making a caricature of His incarnation and saving death on the cross. Maranatha, come Lord Jesus!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent Yr A, December 4, 2022

Fri, 02 Dec 2022 19:28:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent Yr A, November 27, 2022

Fri, 25 Nov 2022 17:58:00 GMT

C.S Lewis has a line in his Screwtape Letters for stragglers in no hurry to turn from evil and reform their lives. Student-devils were getting prepared to be dispatched to the earth to complete their coursework in causing mayhem. Satan held a one-on-one interview with each of them. To the first student, he asks: “What’s your strategy?” to which he responds, “I’ll instruct them that God doesn’t exist.” Satan shakes his head and responded, “Not so smart; most of them know our enemy exists. Next...” The next student enters: “I’ll persuasively argue that there’s nothing like hell,” to which the devil responds: “No way, after millions of abortions and murderous wars, they do know that hell exists. Next...” Then came the last student, a she-devil intern. She reveals that her strategy would be to tell humanity that they have plenty of time, to which the devil responds with a shrill smile: “Smart woman. Do that and you’ll bring them down here in droves.”

Advent comes, Advent goes! Year after year we arrive at this beginning of the liturgical year. We send across the same message that the coming of the Lord is near, and we have been doing so for 2000 years. Some wink and role their eyes: “Here we go again: Fr. Jo with his endless message of the end that doesn’t really come.” If that’s your default position, you must have been listening to Screwtape’s she-devil telling you there’s plenty of time. Jesus references a similar attitude prevalent during the time of Noah. People thought Noah was insane to be building a humongous ark in preparation for a flood that they considered a figment of his imagination—until the flood came and wiped them out. Given the signs of the time pointing forcefully to the end, Screwtape’s she-devil might have had her code cracked. We must now wait for the end with eye-popping vigilance.

We must wait as someone whose house is on fire. The interval between the burning house and the arrival of the fire-truck is a critical time that should not be spent on useless endeavors and search for thrills. It should be spent saving whatever is most essential. Our relationship with God is high up there.

As you’ll soon busy yourself with putting out the lights, preparing the Christmas Tree, setting the manger scene, and buying Christmas presents, I’ve this simple advice: Spend some time to reflect on your life and on your eternal destiny. Consider the possibility that you’re using up your last chance and could be lost forever. Jesus cautions that we beware of letting our hearts become coarsened with debauchery, drunkenness and the cares of this life, and that day springs on us like a trap or a thief at night. What’s the trap for which we should be watching out? Who is the thief? Anything or anyone who would steal our eternal salvation from us. The thieves we should be vigilant to stop this Advent are forces, influences, temptations that would steal the beautiful life that God has in store for us. If we succeed in warding off the night-thief, then would the Lord break into our heart and soul with His peace and serenity. That is the beauty of the incarnation. God Himself comes in the form of a babe to save us from all that could keep us from Him.

You might still say: “Not yet. I have some fun to catch up with; I have a business deal to complete that would rake in millions; maybe after the holiday.” The story is told about two Catholics who talked about salvation over drinks. One said: “I’m making my confession on my death-bed like the good thief.” His buddy replied: “There were two thieves on the cross; one of them didn’t make it to confession even though he had the eternal high priest with them. What makes you think you won’t be the other thief?” Evidently, as one lives his life, so shall he die. Last minute repentance is a grace given only to a few. The time to repent and renew our life is now!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent Yr A, November 27, 2022

Fri, 25 Nov 2022 17:58:00 GMT

You might still say: “Not yet. I have some fun to catch up with; I have a business deal to complete that would rake in millions; maybe after the holiday.” The story is told about two Catholics who talked about salvation over drinks. One said: “I’m making my confession on my death-bed like the good thief.” His buddy replied: “There were two thieves on the cross; one of them didn’t make it to confession even though he had the eternal high priest with them. What makes you think you won’t be the other thief?” Evidently, as one lives his life, so shall he die. Last minute repentance is a grace given only to a few. The time to repent and renew our life is now!

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Our Lord Jesus Christ King of the Universe Yr C, November 20, 2022

Fri, 18 Nov 2022 16:09:00 GMT

For a Hebrew person, the name David represented brilliance, strength, wisdom, conquest, leadership. Despite his recorded moral misadventures, the Jews remember him as their most illustrious leader. When they suffered terrible persecution under foreign rulers who oppressed them, they remembered David and hoped for a king with the talents and capabilities of David. The prophets had assured them that another king will arise from David’s stock, an anointed one ( Christos ), who, like David would be strong, a conqueror of nations, with power to establish the prosperous reign of God. The two disciples who met the Lord on the road to Emmaus voiced their disappointment with Jesus who, they thought, was elevated only to dash their hopes: “We were hoping that he would be the one to set Israel free” (Lk 12:21).

From every indication, Jesus, for them, failed the “king” test. For, no real king would stand before another king handcuffed and oozing with blood as he defended his kingship under interrogation. What definitely showed him a weak king was his crown—made of thorns rather than gold. The reactions of the individuals around the cross reveal a taunting deserving of a despicable impostor. Like them or hate them, the Romans have incredible sense of humor—seen in Pilate’s inscription, written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek to ensure that anyone in the world who could read, saw and read it: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” It was a mockery to both Jesus and his Jewish folks. Pilate kind of says: “What a king you have in this one ...try another.”

Yet, amidst the deviltry and gloom, someone saw a true king; and he was a thief. Tradition holds that this thief, Demas, who was meeting Jesus for the second time was a Judean Robin Hood. Their first meeting was during the flight to Egypt by the Holy Family. Demas and his cohort—the other thief—accosted the Holy Family to rob them. Demas saw how lovely the Baby was and could not bear to lay hands on His mom and dad or rob them. He was quoted as saying: “O most blessed of children, if ever there come a time for having mercy on me, then remember me and forget not this hour,” as he escorted the family out of harm’s way. That second meeting happened at Calvary, as he hung beside the One he had, thirty-three years before, protected. This was the juncture when the mercy of God would be extended to him; for, as long as a person’s heart beats, the door to God’s merciful heart remains open.

Mercy is the balm of God’s love. Mercy is the door to God’s heart. Mercy is the highway to heaven. God doesn’t wish to pull us kicking and screaming along this road. He asks us to make an introspection so we may hear the sound of his voice in our consciences, where he rules supreme. It is in our conscience that he has established his government house, his Supreme Court, and his Congress. We may try, but we cannot escape that court of God, which is our conscience. We may protest the voice of conscience, but it never ceases to point to us the good and the evil in our lives. God would not send me to your homes to monitor how you live, whether you cheat your employer or employee, whether you reported your taxes honestly last year, whether you pray and teach same to your children, whether you use artificial birth control, whether you visit pornographic websites in your computer and other devices, etc., etc. It so happens, however, that because these are based on truth, whenever we speak of them, your conscience is disturbed. That’s the true meaning of kingship.

At the conclusion of this liturgical year , King Jesus invites you as a companion of His Mercy Garden. Paradise is a Persian word for “a walled garden.” Like a Persian king, who, wishing to do a favor to his subject would invite him as a companion of the garden, Jesus invites the good thief and us to walk with him in the honored place of the garden of heaven (Barclay).

Reflection Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for Our Lord Jesus Christ King of the Universe Yr C, November 20, 2022

Fri, 18 Nov 2022 16:09:00 GMT

Mercy is the balm of God’s love. Mercy is the door to God’s heart. Mercy is the highway to heaven. God doesn’t wish to pull us kicking and screaming along this road. He asks us to make an introspection so we may hear the sound of his voice in our consciences, where he rules supreme. It is in our conscience that he has established his government house, his Supreme Court, and his Congress. We may try, but we cannot escape that court of God, which is our conscience. We may protest the voice of conscience, but it never ceases to point to us the good and the evil in our lives. God would not send me to your homes to monitor how you live, whether you cheat your employer or employee, whether you reported your taxes honestly last year, whether you pray and teach same to your children, whether you use artificial birth control, whether you visit pornographic websites in your computer and other devices, etc., etc. It so happens, however, that because these are based on truth, whenever we speak of them, your conscience is disturbed. That’s the true meaning of kingship.

Reflection Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, November 13, 2022

Fri, 11 Nov 2022 18:43:00 GMT

You must have heard about Fr. Sean Sheehy in Ireland who was reprimanded by his bishop for preaching a homily few Sundays ago, encouraging God’s people to repent from their sins. He mentioned some of the sinful behaviors that many in modern Western society no longer consider sinful: abortion, promiscuity, homosexuality, and the transgender lunacy. His bishop went on air apologizing to people about the homily, saying that Father Sheehy should have preached about love, care, and acceptance. He barred the priest from ever celebrating Mass publicly.

So, just to let you know: we are on the edge of a precipice into a very frightening abyss. This experience made me so furious that I nearly cursed. Many priests and bishops feel the same. I request your prayers for Fr. Sheehy. You can even reach out to him via email or twitter to offer him encouragement. Yet, the experience has brought to mind the words of the Lord about the end, when many will abandon true faith in the living God to pursue earthly fancies. It also provided clarity, that the line between good and evil is no longer blurry. People are busy taking sides, and no one can any longer sit on the fence or straddle along. You are either for Christ or you are not.

You’d have noticed from today’s readings references to the end and the Second Coming. Those who know that the liturgical year has 34 Sundays and that today is the 33rd Sunday won’t be surprised that the Church is presenting to us the theme of the Second coming. We’re not to idle our time away like the Thessalonians whom Paul sternly admonishes in the second reading. We cannot afford the luxury of minding everybody’s business but our own. We have no other option, as we witness the loss of faith by those who should guide others. We must gird our loins for what faces us. Now is the time to become increasingly focused and intentional about our faith in Christ; and not wait for someone—even a priest, bishop or pope—for guidance. You have to decide to be intentional Catholics or “nones;” children of the kingdom or of the blindly innocuous world; a counter-cultural people or people who have no morals; and most importantly, a force for good in our society rather than its collapse.

In the Gospel, Jesus asks us not to get flustered, distraught or full of anxiety, like those who mindlessly refuse to commit their lives to the kingdom. As persecution from the world is ominous, we have rich opportunities to become witnesses. It’s no longer just the early Christians to whom today’s message is addressed; they’ve had their share of persecution. The words: “You’ll be delivered up to those who will kill you for being faithful” was heard by all the early Church martyrs, but also by Oscar Romero, by Maximilian Kolbe, by the Coptic martyrs of Egypt, by Fr. Jacques Hamel, and by you and me. Those words are addressed to all who throughout the ages suffered for their faith and would continue to so suffer. When you are mocked by the media and the twitter-army for hanging on to what they present as a dated morality, you are part of the persecuted Church. When you hold on to the traditional family values and prefer responsibility over the forces that deify selfishness and self-gratification, you are a member of the persecuted Church. You will even suffer and be treated with scorn for telling your 19-year-old daughter that it isn’t right for her to move in with Tom without the benefit of marriage. You’ll be told that you have “archaic morals;” but that’s part of the persecution you’ll face for being a child of the kingdom.

The Lord’s promise that “through patient endurance, you’re saving your life” (Lk 21:19) should gladden your heart; for, according to Barclay, “a prison can be like a palace, a scaffold like a throne, the storms of life like summer weather, when Christ is with us.”

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, November 13, 2022

Fri, 11 Nov 2022 18:43:00 GMT

You’d have noticed from today’s readings references to the end and the Second Coming. Those who know that the liturgical year has 34 Sundays and that today is the 33rd Sunday won’t be surprised that the Church is presenting to us the theme of the Second coming. We’re not to idle our time away like the Thessalonians whom Paul sternly admonishes in the second reading. We cannot afford the luxury of minding everybody’s business but our own. We have no other option, as we witness the loss of faith by those who should guide others. We must gird our loins for what faces us. Now is the time to become increasingly focused and intentional about our faith in Christ; and not wait for someone—even a priest, bishop or pope—for guidance. You have to decide to be intentional Catholics or “nones;” children of the kingdom or of the blindly innocuous world; a counter-cultural people or people who have no morals; and most importantly, a force for good in our society rather than its collapse.

In the Gospel, Jesus asks us not to get flustered, distraught or full of anxiety, like those who mindlessly refuse to commit their lives to the kingdom. As persecution from the world is ominous, we have rich opportunities to become witnesses. It’s no longer just the early Christians to whom today’s message is addressed; they’ve had their share of persecution. The words: “You’ll be delivered up to those who will kill you for being faithful” was heard by all the early Church martyrs, but also by Oscar Romero, by Maximilian Kolbe, by the Coptic martyrs of Egypt, by Fr. Jacques Hamel, and by you and me. Those words are addressed to all who throughout the ages suffered for their faith and would continue to so suffer. When you are mocked by the media and the twitter-army for hanging on to what they present as a dated morality, you are part of the persecuted Church. When you hold on to the traditional family values and prefer responsibility over the forces that deify selfishness and self-gratification, you are a member of the persecuted Church. You will even suffer and be treated with scorn for telling your 19-year-old daughter that it isn’t right for her to move in with Tom without the benefit of marriage. You’ll be told that you have “archaic morals;” but that’s part of the persecution you’ll face for being a child of the kingdom.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, November 6, 2022

Fri, 04 Nov 2022 22:35:00 GMT

Some years back, a student of the University of Tulsa had asked me about buying a Bible—I’d mentioned something about complete and incomplete versions of the Bible. So, I cautioned her to be sure she buys a Catholic Bible. As expected, she asked what the difference was. The answer which should benefit those who do not know is that Protestant Bibles often do not contain all the books of the Bible.

During the Protestant Reformation, one of the teachings that the protesters rejected was the doctrine of purgatory. Their rejection of purgatory meant that any book of the Bible that referred to prayers for the dead were rejected. Among the books thrown out were the First and Second Maccabees. [There were other reasons, though, why the deuterocanonical books were rejected]. Our first reading today is taken from the Second Book of Maccabees and there’s a history behind the book which deserves our attention.

Back in the second century BC, Syria had conquered Palestine. The king of Syria named Antiochus imposed Greek culture and paganism on the Jews. He burned copies of the Torah, abolished the Jewish law, and forbade Sabbath observance. Some practices like circumcision attracted a death penalty. As a final assault, King Antiochus erected a statue of the Greek god, Zeus at the Holy of Holies—the inner court of the Temple of Jerusalem. In addition, he forced every Jew to eat pork, which Jewish custom forbade—for Jews consider pigs unclean. But the people were forced to eat pork sacrificed to a pagan god inside the Temple of Jerusalem. All through the land altars were erected to Zeus and the people were forced to worship it.

The seven brothers in today’s first reading, together with their mother, were arrested and commanded by the king to eat pork. Because they refused the order of the king, one by one, they were put to death. The fourth son, as he was dying, made reference to his hope of being raised from the dead.

The oppression of the Jews was later challenged by a certain Jewish priest named Mattathias. Together with some Jewish soldiers, Mattathias led a revolt against Antiochus. After the battles, with faith in being raised from the dead, and urged on by Mattathias, soldiers offered prayers for their fallen comrades. The books of Maccabees report great suffering among the Jewish people but also tell us about prayers for the dead. The reading fits perfectly the Church’s intention for the month of November when we pray for the faithful departed. It also falls in line with our nation’s celebration of Veteran’s Day.

The assumption by some Protestants and other groups that once someone dies, he or she goes straight to heaven is brazen and should be taken with caution. Yes, we should be cautious about canonizing our departed relatives who may still need our prayers to bring them to final purification. Purgatory is a spiritual state of final cleansing in the blood of Jesus, which many souls will need to unite themselves completely with the death of Christ for them. While in this body, we lack the spiritual insight to appreciate concretely the meaning of our salvation in Christ. Stripped of the body, we stand a better chance of acceding to the prize of our salvation, just as correction centers help some prisoners understand their crime better and seek amendment. We often hear reports of prisoners pardoned on the grounds of good behavior. Though it requires much more than good behavior to be in heaven, for heaven to make any sense, it has to be a place of reward for a life of faith and righteousness. The fact that in this world virtue often goes unrewarded and vice unpunished leaves one wondering: “Why be good, especially when it is hard, if it makes no difference in the long run?” Heaven has to be a sure reward for a life of faith for which our faithful departed yearn.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, November 6, 2022

Fri, 04 Nov 2022 22:35:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 30, 2022

Fri, 28 Oct 2022 22:40:00 GMT

A Democrat politician described the publicans of yesterday as today’s Republicans—filthy-rich, out of touch, bigoted, racist, members of the basket of deplorable(s). But in the name-calling, he left nothing for his own colleagues—liars, race-baiters, and baby-killers. Truth be told: the publican of yesteryears has so frequently changed garbs that it’s no longer easy to tell his party. None of those choice words is the exclusive reserve of one political wing. They share them equally.

The publicans of Jesus’ time are like the IRS agents whom everyone dreads: you don’t want to receive their mail or phone call. But the IRS agents of today are feared for quite different reasons than the publicans were hated. If the United States was under Russian rule, the publicans would be IRS agents collecting taxes for Russia. These despicable breeds made filthy money by not only collecting taxes for the Roman occupying power but charging more than approved, so as to enrich themselves. Rome was corrupt anyway, and, insofar as money poured into the treasury, they turned a blind eye. Hence, the publicans were corrupt native officials for a foreign government, marking them out as both thieves and traitors. If last Sunday’s publican was a junior officer, Zacchaeus was not your run-of-the-mill publican; he was the head publican of a rich and important city (Jericho). To add insult to injury, he was very short in stature. This makes him one morally, socially, physically and spiritually challenged.

There are several ways we resemble Zacchaeus. Like him, we are short in the same and several other ways. We may not have a short stature, but we may, like Zacchaeus, be short morally and spiritually, short in temper, short in generosity, short in our love of neighbor, short with our responsibility in family, and many other ways we can be challenged. And as Zacchaeus identified his inadequacies and wouldn’t let them encumber his desire to see Jesus, when we recognize our own limitations, we need not dance a ballet, sing an opera, or march proudly with satanic boldness through the streets of San Francisco. Like Zacchaeus, we should make a conscious effort to climb the sycamore of hope and restoration. Didn’t the Lord say that through a tree we fell, but also through a tree life would come? Climbing that tree might expose us to ridicule—as it certainly did Zacchaeus—but the joy of welcoming the Lord into our home and hearts will far outweigh the embarrassment we would face from the unthinking crowd. For example, some are embarrassed to go to confession lest others see them as sinners. The truth is they see you as a hero, because you’re able to own up your faults, which for many is a challenge.

The tree has been very central in Salvation history. Through the tree, our first parents fell, through another tree the people of God were spared from the poisonous serpent. The sycamore of today is the tree of life for Zacchaeus. Like Zacchaeus, Jesus would climb another tree to buy our salvation. As embarrassing as it might seem, there’s always life in and from the tree.

Zacchaeus meets the Lord and pledges to turn a new leaf. He wanted to see the Lord, but the Lord was, in turn, seeking him out, to save that lost son of Abraham. The first reading from the book of Wisdom assures that God loathes nothing that He has made. Tradition holds that Zacchaeus became the Bishop of Caesarea. His wife is believed to be the holy woman Veronica who met the bruised Jesus on the way to Calvary, wiping his face with a towel; and the Lord gave back to her an imprint of His Holy Face. She despised another crowd crying for blood, and with courage stepped out and boldly sponged with her veil the bruised face of the Man responsible for the new life of her husband and entire household. Both husband and wife (with children) climbed out on a thin limb for the Master (Sheen). Would you be as bold to stand for him?

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 30, 2022

Fri, 28 Oct 2022 22:40:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 23, 2022

Sat, 22 Oct 2022 11:36:00 GMT

I learned that the reason why some folks prefer the back row when they come to Mass is to identify with the humility of the tax collector in today’s gospel, and I say “bravo” to the backseaters. I do hope, though, that the backseaters do not develop the attitude of another backseater tax collector who rather prayed: “God, I thank you that I’m not like the rest of these people here—do-gooders, frequent Church-going, front-sitting Pharisees—especially Ms. XYZ. I may be greedy, dishonest and adulterous, but I’m grateful not to be a hypocrite like them.”

My point is that it doesn’t matter where you sit. The desire to judge, exalt, and justify oneself can always find a reason—even in one’s so-called humility, or in the back, middle or front seat of the Church. In fact, the greatest hypocrisy of our time comes with the labeling of others—especially those who make effort to be good—as hypocrites, while those who have got intoxicated in moral relativism pride themselves as okay people. And society idolizes, canonizes, and emulates them. Goodbye good men and women!

“O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity,” sounds arrogant, outrageous, and harsh; yet many of us, in our different holy camps, carry that same sort of attitude. The poor judge the rich as wicked, and the rich judge the poor as lazy; the old judge the young as vile and senseless, and the young judge the old as out-of-date; conservatives judge liberals, and liberals judge conservatives; the new sanctimonious center judge everyone else, and you dare not judge them. America judges the rest of the world and vice versa. What’s everyone saying? If only the rest of the world were a little bit more like me, the world would be a great place. There’s a Pharisee in each one of us.

The Pharisee of today’s gospel was not a bad person; he has a lot going for him. He honestly didn’t cheat his neighbor; many of us can’t say so. He fasted twice a week; many of us quarrel with mere abstinence from meat on Fridays only. He tithed his income to God; the chart shows that we’re stingier than our parents. He prayed four times a day; we applaud ourselves when we make it to Mass once a week. If everyone tries to live like this Pharisee, surely the world about us would be a more delightful place. But here is the bad news about this man, and even “badder” for us: He was a proud prig, swept off by his self-importance; and so are we, oftentimes. William James said: “A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices.” The Pharisee’s prayer consisted of trumpets and accolades to his humble self. The worship that day was to himself. He found in the world two perfect people—himself and God—and he wasn’t quite sure God was that perfect; the reason he was, perhaps, in his prayer wondering why God hasn’t yet sent him a “Thank You” card or some plaque.

The tax collector was surely a bad person. We wouldn’t like to hear his stinking story. The good news: he was humble. The word humility was born from the Latin word “humus,” meaning, ‘earth’ or ‘ground.’ To work out an equation between the Pharisee and the tax collector is Jesus’ motif in the parable. Take the good in the Pharisee and the humility of the tax collector and you form a perfect child of God. The pride of the Pharisee and the evil of the tax collector cancel each other out. Sadly though, the last two are what some people choose to retain. Not only are their lives evil, they’re proud of it. No one has been able to improve on the famous expression that “pride goes before the fall.” But for heaven, it might be too high, but its entrance gate is so low that to pass we must stoop in humility. This is represented by the very short entrance door to the Church of the Nativity in Jerusalem. Pilgrims find that to enter into the mystery of Christ, they must bend the knee and be as humble as the one who stripped Himself of divine glory in order to become human like us and save us.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 23, 2022

Sat, 22 Oct 2022 11:36:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 16, 2022

Fri, 14 Oct 2022 23:37:00 GMT

A priest was at a boxing match. At the introduction of the contestants, one of the boxers approached the ring wearing a rosary bead round his neck. As the gong sounded to start the contest, the ‘devout’ boxer added a triple sign of the cross. Seeing this boxer’s manifest devotion, the man sitting next to the priest turns to him and asks: “Father, will that help him?” “Yes,” replies the cleric, “if he can box” (James Gilhooley). Now, that’s the true nature of prayer.

Jesus is teaching us about prayer in the famous story we heard today. A judge who would always get swayed by bribes and favoritism was coerced to pass a just sentence with no bribes. And this, by a widow who simply was a relentless pest. Lacking the socio-economic clout to influence the judge, she decided to pick her battle, telling herself: “I’ll hound him non-stop until he sees the need to deliver justice.” I like a little stubbornness in people; it can be fun and exciting. The cold, insipid, complaining, persecution-complex types are just not fun. This lady could have chosen to cry, “why me, why me? ...misfortune, misfortune,” but chose not to drawn in self-pity. She rather prayed, “why not?”

You’ve probably received those annoying phone calls where the marketer at the other line pesters you to buy a product, switch your cable network, internet or phone service. Years ago, when I was chaplain at the Newman Center of the University of Tulsa, I was about leaving my house for an engagement at TU when the phone rang. At the rectory in Sapulpa where I lived then, the phone will always announce a caller’s name. If it says, “Caller Unknown” or “1800-number,” I would ignore the call. But that day, the name announced by the machine was Ben S. I said to myself, this could be a parishioner calling for sick-visit. Do you know what? The lady who called kept me on the phone for the next 10 minutes pestering me any way she could to buy health insurance. I didn’t hang up on her because I was taught that it’s rude to do so. All she succeeded in doing was keep me late for my appointment.

Now, let’s look at this parable. What’s Jesus telling us? Is he suggesting that if we honestly need something from God, we’ve got to hound Him until we wear Him down? Or conversely, we just send a tweet or an iMessage to God and expect our request by same day FedEx? Either way, it wouldn’t seem like we’re communicating with the One who is All-knowing, All-loving, All-good and All-powerful. Like everything though, prayer has certain ground-rules.

First is our faith. We have to believe in the power of God to grant our prayer, and not program ourselves for a plan-B should He, by our reckoning, delay. James Tahaney once said, “It isn’t our prayer that God hears but our confidence.” Second is what we bring with prayer. We’ve got to use our own hands and feet and intelligence to give God a helping hand. Thus, one who prays for a good job would have to search for it, send applications and resumes, pray, and then wait. Sr. Ruth Fox was right that, “if we’re praying to move the proverbial mountain spoken of in Mtt 17:20, we’ve got to remember to also bring a shovel.” The boxer opening this reflection can hardly expect God’s help if he hasn’t trained well and maintained a good physical shape. Third is our expectation. Let’s face it: we shouldn’t expect to receive everything for which we pray. Nothing in life works that way. For example, the lady who called me to buy insurance would never in a millennium have got a positive answer from me. If she knew I was a priest and that priests are on a group insurance, she would have spent her 15 minutes more profitably. So, if I can reasonably turn down another’s request, why can’t God do the same to me? God indeed answers every prayer, but sometimes He’s going to say no. That’s why Jesus taught us to say, “Thy will be done.” Finally, after doing all we can and have to, we must, like Moses, keep our hands lifted up in prayer, supported by the Church (signified by the rock on which Moses sat and Aaron and Hur steadying his hands on either side) in steady combat of prayer and praise.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 16, 2022

Fri, 14 Oct 2022 23:37:00 GMT

You’ve probably received those annoying phone calls where the marketer at the other line pesters you to buy a product, switch your cable network, internet or phone service. Years ago, when I was chaplain at the Newman Center of the University of Tulsa, I was about leaving my house for an engagement at TU when the phone rang. At the rectory in Sapulpa where I lived then, the phone will always announce a caller’s name. If it says, “Caller Unknown” or “1800-number,” I would ignore the call. But that day, the name announced by the machine was Ben S. I said to myself, this could be a parishioner calling for sick-visit. Do you know what? The lady who called kept me on the phone for the next 10 minutes pestering me any way she could to buy health insurance. I didn’t hang up on her because I was taught that it’s rude to do so. All she succeeded in doing was keep me late for my appointment.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 9, 2022

Fri, 07 Oct 2022 19:42:00 GMT

A newly elected mayor of a small town sought the support of stakeholders in his constituency. He’d heard much about the priest of the city’s small Catholic Church and invited him to dinner in one local restaurant to which the priest obliged with gratitude. As the food arrived, the mayor pulled his silverware and started eating. The priest asked, “Don’t you say some prayer of thanks before eating?” The mayor retorted: “There’s no need to thank anyone, except perhaps me, for paying for the food.” He added: “After paying for the food, it becomes mine and I just dig in.” The priest said, “Sounds like what my dog Sharp would do. She digs in, once she sees her food.” You can imagine what an exciting evening they had.

Many in our society behave like Sharp. They believe everything that came their way was a result of their hard work. By their power they had loving parents who didn’t abandon them in pursuit of alcohol and drugs. Their hard work made them American citizens instead of Sudanese or Afghans or Syrians. By their hard work they earned eyes to see, feet to walk, intelligence and beauty, which the lazy people lack. Don’t you see that it’s easy to grow accustomed to the blessings that surround us and forget to give thanks?

Today’s Gospel presents ten lepers, nine of whom were Jews, and one a Samaritan of Gentile descent. At the time of Jesus, leprosy was the most ugly and dreaded disease, consigning its sufferers to a new social condition as outcasts. A Jew who suffered from leprosy became socially speaking a gentile; hence, leprosy was the factor behind the togetherness that the Jewish lepers felt with the Samaritan in their company. Calamity often unites people so they forget differences. If a natural disaster occurs and animals run for dear life, tigers, lambs and rabbits, raccoons and cats can congregate at some safe ground in peace with each other. One of the lessons of 9/11 was how quickly and closely it united the Democrats and the Republicans so they passed bills that would otherwise have involved deeply contentious partisan battles.

Jesus heard the cries of these lepers and came to their aid. No sooner had they found themselves healed than their differences set in. Perhaps, the Samaritan was reminded that he couldn’t join the now ‘clean Jews’ to the temple. Their bodies might have been healed but they still carried the stench of division in race and creed. Leprosy was just only one of the problems that the Samaritan had, and perhaps the least. His deeper social situation remained—a gentile, an outcast, with his skin color, language and nationality. Luke’s motif in this Gospel account was that the gentile is one whom God receives without consideration of social, religious or any other status. While the now healed leprous Jews went to their temple priest, the Samaritan returned to the one who embodies the TEMPLE and the PRIESTHOOD—the incarnate Son of God. He showed himself with thanks to the high priest of the new covenant, who alone could sign him off as totally redeemed. The Lord looked out to him as a member of the human community, not as Asian, Hispanic, European or African.

St. Paul asks: “What do you have that you have not received?” (I Cor 4:7). It’s not by our making that we’re born strong or weak, beautiful or less so, rich or poor; hence, thanksgiving and praise might be the most lacking thread in our prayer tapestry. A spiritual author notes: “gratitude draws benefits, and the benefactor loves to be reminded of his bounty.” We owe gratitude for God’s many blessings. The Mass is the most potent way to thank God, given its name Eucharistia, which means, “Thanksgiving.” When someone stops attending Mass claiming she’s busy with stuff; she’ll be like the nine lepers who so wanted to return quickly to a busy life after their healing that they ignored their healer. Be like Naaman and the Samaritan, and give thanks for all God’s benefits.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 9, 2022

Fri, 07 Oct 2022 19:42:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 2, 2022

Thu, 29 Sep 2022 21:13:00 GMT

A few months before my priestly ordination, I was going through a pile of books in an old bookstore and came across a book titled: “Is There Anyone There?” It sounded like a question that came from the deepest part of me, given that I was a bit confused whether to make up my mind for the priesthood. I quickly paid for the book, got home and spent the rest of the day reading it. It’s a story of a young athlete who during one of his customary early morning exercises decided to take a rout he wasn’t used to, and fell into a deep hole. But halfway down the hole, he miraculously grabbed the root of a tree cutting across the pit. Holding it firmly, he thanked God that everything was not yet over. He prayed for help, and suddenly got an idea. He looked up and could see that the day was breaking and decided to shout out: “Is there anyone there?” Unbelievably, he heard a voice that said: “Yes, I’m here. I’m Jesus your Savior. I saw your predicament and have come to save you.” The man replied, “Thank you Jesus!” Then the Lord continued, “Quickly, let go of the root on which you’re holding.” The athlete thought about that for a little while and then shouts back, “Is there someone else there?” Take a moment and ask yourself whether you’ll let go of the root if you were in this man’s position.

Like you and me, the athlete in this story is a believer. He prayed for help when he was in need. We do likewise. Several of us pray only when we’re in need. Not too bad! The answer to his prayer wasn’t what he desired. He had faith but no trust. The root of the tree would momentarily hold his life until he reaches exhaustion and would be forced anyway to let go of it and fall to his utter ruin. Perhaps, he reasoned, as we often do, that if God was serious about saving him, He could have thrown down a rope or sent a crew to rescue him. He wanted God to save him on his own terms, not on the Almighty’s.

Who is this athlete? It’s us. We are the ones midway between collapse and God’s salvation. We claim we believe in God but when the going gets tough or things don’t work out our way, we ignore and marginalize God, and seek manmade solutions. We hold on to the root that can sustain us only momentarily. Hence, the cure our society presents for sadness is to get drunk and hooked on happy-pills; for marriage problems, we divorce; for prolonged sickness, we euthanize; for disagreements, we hate, destroy property and sue.

We believe—yes, but have little faith. Recognizing that our faith is weak, we should ask the Lord, like the disciples, to increase our faith. We notice that Jesus didn’t just reach into his pocket and pull out some dose of faith and hand to them. There’s no supercenter to purchase faith nor can we order some faith-pills on Amazon or an online Faith-store. Jesus’ response to the apostles, “If your faith is as tiny as the mustard seed…” tells us that we need only trust the ground on which our faith is planted; then God, the Gardener will grow us, set us free from hatred and selfishness, from gossip and slander, from addiction to drug, alcohol and pornography, and especially from the grip of the evil one.

The parable of the unprofitable servant teaches us to anchor our faith in the person Christ, His Church, and on the sacraments of salvation He has given us. We must put first at all times the will and pleasure of God. If we do, it is possible to forget ourselves and do everything—including our jobs—in service of God, without expecting any thanks and praise. As the unknown author of the book, “Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody” puts it, “we could at the same time be all of the above.” In a cantankerous world, Everybody usually thinks that Somebody will do it, but Nobody realizes that Anybody wouldn’t. It ends up that Everybody blames Somebody when Nobody does what Anybody could have done. Be your own person; be a person of faith.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, October 2, 2022

Thu, 29 Sep 2022 21:13:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, September 25, 2022

Fri, 23 Sep 2022 20:21:00 GMT

The Great Depression of 1929 to 1939 brought about economic hardship on the populace. But while the unemployed poor of the land formed long queues to get their ration of soup in New York, the affluent in Long Island managed to put up a surprise party for their dogs. The menu: all you could eat of the choicest steaks—for dogs; the cost $100.00 a plate (McKarns). In Hollywood, newspaper magnate, William Randolph commissioned his mansion with enough bedrooms for the 94 special guests invited for his New Year’s Eve (1932) party featuring a Kid’s Masquerade. The party was so extravagant that a news reporter had to apologize to listeners, explaining that the beauty of the party was that the costumes were inexpensive—only $700 apiece. Here, Lazarus meets the real Dives, who lives a pampered live while the poor are devastated by want.

Before penning these words, I searched the scripture to find anywhere Jesus directly condemned someone for being wealthy. I found none. Likewise, I didn’t find anywhere he praised someone for being poor. But I found many passages warning about the dangers of material prosperity. The rich man’s sin was not a sin of commission, rather that of omission. He was condemned not for his possession but because he failed to take notice of the poor right at his nose. He could be customarily a “good guy” for tolerating the sight of Lazarus at the front door of his mansion and permitting him to check out his garbage for food. Lazarus must have smelled so awful as to attract street dogs that found their meal in his wounds. Dives, I suppose, would be kinder than many today who would rather call the cops to haul that ugly sight—Lazarus—off our property.

All of us here today are the five brothers and sisters of the rich man. We may not be as rich as Elon Musk, but in comparison with the rest of the world, we are fabulously wealthy. Warm clothes, air-conditioned rooms and cars, food and drink are within the beck and call of many. While others worry about not getting enough calories, many of us worry about too much calories. So, our rich brother, Dives, pens this letter from hell: “I want to warn you about the danger of riches; riches of all kinds—money, intelligence, health, power, and social or religious status. These can lead you to forget about God and everyone else except yourselves. That’s what happened to me. I thought I was successful, but from where I am now, I realize that God truly identifies with every Lazarus of the world: the hungry, the sick, the unborn, the immigrant, and the prisoner. One of them is lying at your door right now. Open your eyes and see him, for if you establish a chasm between Lazarus and yourself, you are doing exactly the same between you and God—(Dives from Hell).”

Certainly, we’re incapable of meeting the needs of everyone in the world. When disaster strikes in other parts of the world, we feel helpless given the number of scammers who take advantage of every crisis. We must begin at home, where charity beckons, and support our parish, Catholic Charities, St. Jude’s Center, the Homeless shelter that help you serve the poor.

There’s another troubling fact which today’s Gospel clears for us. Polls show that majority in our society, including Catholics do not believe in hell or Satan. Years ago, a Catholic School in Tulsa barred me from celebrating school Mass for them because I refused to change the reading of the day in which reference was made to hell. These believe only in God, heaven, peace, and love. Sadly, there’s a serious problem with that judgment. It’s like believing in health and denying sickness or giving an “A+” grade to all students in a quiz whether or not they merited it. My promise to you: I will never redact the words of scripture to make myself or someone feel happy. Christ spoke about hell for about 90 times, and I’m not free to change his words for anyone’s comfort.

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time Yr C, September 25, 2022

Fri, 23 Sep 2022 20:21:00 GMT

Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo