Homily: Thursday of the Thirty-First Week in Ordinary Time
Thanksgiving for the 15th Anniversary of Priestly Ordination
Philippians 3:3–8a | Luke 15:1–10
5 November 2026
Before anything else, a little clarification: my actual ordination anniversary is November 12, not today! I was ordained on November 12, 2011, the Memorial of St. Josaphat, Bishop and Martyr, and the patron of Christian unity and ecumenical efforts. My ordination took place on the eve of the Feast of the Assumptionist Bulgarian Martyrs—Kamen, Pavel, and Josaphat—celebrated every November 13. In fact, my very first Mass was offered in honor of these martyrs!
Fifteen years later, a new connection to martyrs came to light. I have been invited by a group from London to accompany them on a pilgrimage to Japan and South Korea entitled “Witnesses unto Death: A Pilgrimage to the Martyrs of Japan and South Korea.” So, I will be away on the date of my actual anniversary. I suppose I am celebrating my 15th anniversary by going on a pilgrimage rather than staying home for a party—which, as many of you know, I do not particularly enjoy!
Perhaps there is something providential about celebrating today, especially in the light of the readings we have just heard. And as I look back on these fifteen years, I fondly recall Sr. Clare Teresa Tjader, former Superior General of the Religious of the Assumption, during my years at Assumption College (now Assumption University) in Worcester, Massachusetts. She used to hand me a map and make me sit beside her in the vehicle whenever we went on trips with the international students to places like New York, Philadelphia, or Washington, DC. She surely knew the way, but every now and then, while driving, she would turn to me and ask, “Are we going the right way?” Apparently, I was the navigator! This was before Waze, so we had to rely on the map—or whatever sense of direction I could muster! How funny that I was expected to know the way even though I did not even know how to drive then. It was quite an arrangement: she was behind the wheel, but I had the map and the responsibility. She seemed perfectly calm, while I was quietly hoping I would not be the reason we ended up somewhere we had not planned to go!
Looking back, I find something familiar in that experience. In life, we often find ourselves in situations where others expect us to know the way. When a family has a problem, they turn to the person they believe has the answers. When we are lost, we expect somebody else to show us the way home. Priesthood can sometimes put us in that position. People come to us for guidance, answers, comfort, and direction. We are expected to be shepherds who know where to lead others. But this raises an important question: Who guides the shepherd?
Fifteen years ago, on the day of my ordination, Cardinal Chito Tagle, then the newly-appointed Archbishop of Manila, gave us a reminder that I have come to appreciate more deeply over the years. He reminded us that ordination to the priesthood is a grace, not a privilege. It does not make us more special or more important than others. Rather, it is a gift entrusted to us and a call to serve. And if there is one thing fifteen years of priesthood have taught me, it is this: the longer we serve, the more deeply we realize how much we depend on God’s grace.
This brings me to today’s Gospel. Jesus tells us about a shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine sheep to search for the one that has gone missing (Luke 15:4–7). We usually read this story from the perspective of the shepherd. We see ourselves as the ones sent to look for the lost, to accompany those who have wandered, and to bring people back to God. But after fifteen years of priesthood, I find myself looking at this Gospel from another perspective. What if I am also the lost sheep?
Before we become shepherds, we are sheep. And even after fifteen years, I remain a sheep who needs to be found. There have been moments when I knew where I was going, and moments when I did not. There have been moments of fulfilment and moments of uncertainty, times when ministry was joyful and times when it was difficult. There have been times when I helped others find their way, and times when I needed God to find me and lead me back. Thankfully, through all these years, His grace has never failed me.
This is also what makes St. Paul’s words in the First Reading so meaningful. Paul had so many reasons to be proud of his credentials, accomplishments, and religious standing. Yet he came to realize that all these meant very little compared to knowing Christ (Philippians 3:4–8a). What mattered most was not what he had achieved, but the grace of belonging to Christ. Perhaps this is one of the most important lessons of fifteen years of priesthood: the longer we serve, the less we rely on our own accomplishments and the more we learn to trust in God’s grace.
I may have spent fifteen years searching for people on behalf of God. But the greater miracle is that, throughout these fifteen years, God has never stopped searching for me. Perhaps that is what makes a priest worth following: not that he has never been lost, not that he has all the answers, or that he is somehow better than the people he serves, but that he knows what it means to be found by God.
Today, I give thanks not because I have been a perfect priest, but because God has been faithful. Not because I have always known the way, but because He has never stopped leading me home. It is His fidelity that I celebrate. Fifteen years later, I am still a sheep who needs a Shepherd. I still get lost sometimes. I still need direction. I still need His mercy. But here is what fifteen years have taught me: I do not have to know every road, I do not have to have every answer, and I do not have to be a perfect shepherd. I only have to keep my eyes on the Shepherd who has never lost sight of me.
And perhaps this is true not only for priests, but for all of us. We will have moments when we lose our way. We will have moments when our faith grows weak, when the road becomes difficult, and when we don’t know what comes next. But we can keep going because we belong to a Shepherd who never abandons His sheep. So, after fifteen years, this is what I can say with all my heart: I am still here, not because I have always been strong, not because I have always been faithful, but because God has always been faithful! That is truly the one thing worth celebrating today. It is not simply fifteen years of priesthood but fifteen years of God’s patience, fifteen years of God’s mercy, fifteen years of God’s unfailing love.
Thank you for walking with me, for praying with me, and for being instruments of God’s grace along the way. May we continue this journey together. Wherever the road takes us, may we never forget: we may lose our way, but we will never be lost as long as we belong to the Shepherd who never stops looking for us!
