Exalting the Cross, Embracing New Life

Homily: Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross

Number 21:4-9 / Philippians 2:6-11 / John 3:13-17

14 September 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

Do you remember a time when you felt really sick? Maybe it was a horrible stomach upset or a terrible migraine, or maybe just a simple toothache? Did you tell yourself, “Itutulog ko na lang!” or “I will just sleep it off!”?  Of course not! We look for some kind of relief — immediately, if possible. We resort to traditional home remedies or seek a doctor to prescribe medicines. We do not just sit and suffer; we long to be healed!

In our First Reading, the Israelites were whining with ingratitude, such that God had sent serpents as punishment for their sins and disobedience. Many had died from the bites of these poisonous serpents before they realised their mistake. Repenting of their ways, they asked Moses to pray to God to take the serpents away.  God relented and gave a rather strange solution — He asked Moses to make a bronze serpent and lift it up on a pole so that the afflicted who looked up at it would live. They did not have to do anything extraordinary — just look, and healing would come.

In the Gospel, Jesus connects this story to Himself: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life.” (John 3:14-15) This is a prefiguring of His own crucifixion where His battered body would be lifted up on a cross for all to see.  It is by gazing upon the cross and believing in the crucified Christ who rose from the dead that we gain salvation. The Cross, then, becomes our place of healing, not only for the wounds of the body, but more deeply for the wounds of the soul. St. Paul, in the Second Reading, tells us that Jesus humbled Himself, accepting death on the Cross. (Philippians 2:8) That very act of humility is what brought Him glory, and through it, He brought us healing.

In truth, we carry many kinds of brokenness. Sometimes we cannot break away from a cycle of  sin.  We have addictions to unforgiveness and regretful behaviors that create division in our families.  At times, by no fault of ours we are subjected to sickness, poverty, injustice and all kinds of suffering that not only harm us physically, but also, financially, emotionally and psychologically.  Sometimes, like the Israelites bitten by seraphs, we are poisoned by the corruption in society, by lies we hear daily, by hatred and indifference.  All afflict us and break us, and push us to find relief and healing. 

Jesus invites us to look to Him lifted up on the Cross. The Cross reminds us that no wound is too deep for God’s mercy, no suffering too heavy for His love. For the Catholic Church,  the 14th September is the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross. We exalt the Cross because it is no longer a symbol of shame and death for us.  When we gaze at the Cross, more than being reminded of a gruesome historic event that saved us, we are reminded that with eyes of faith we continue to receive healing in the present. Every Mass, when the Cross is lifted up, we are invited to bring our brokenness there — all our sins, our hurts, our fears, trusting that our Lord who stretched out His arms on it for love of us, sees our affliction and brings healing — for our own lives, for our families, and for our world.

Brothers and sisters, the promise is sure: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life.” (John 3:16) The Cross is not just a story of suffering. It is the greatest sign of God’s love, where our wounds meet His mercy, and our brokenness is transformed into life.

When Human Wisdom Falls Short

Homily: Twenty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Wisdom 9:13–18b | Philemon 9–10, 12–17 | Luke 14:25–33

7 September 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

How rich does one need to be to spend seven hundred sixty thousand pesos (P760,000.00) on a dinner for four (4)? Let us not even talk about where one’s wealth has come from. Even if one considers that amount “barya-barya lang” or spare change, where is the wisdom in spending that much on a meal? Where is the wisdom in flaunting it in a society where hunger is prevalent and majority are financially struggling?  When a rich man says, “It is my money and I can spend it any way I like!”, to an extent it is true. But it makes us wonder… “Has that person ever considered that perhaps God blessed him/her not for a life of luxury, but to uplift others?” It is a classic example of how wealth and worldly wisdom can so easily distort our judgment. 

The Book of Wisdom today is very honest with us. It tells us that human wisdom is flawed. Many times, our plans fail, our reasoning can be weak, and we easily get lost. We think we are smart; we think we know all the answers; until things go wrong because we have made the wrong assumptions or were unaware of all the circumstances.  How true that is for us Filipinos —we put our hopes in politicians who make grand promises, only to be shocked after by blatant corruption and disappointing performance. We follow trends and popular voices, but they often leave us more divided than united. It shows us clearly: human wisdom will always fall short — only God’s wisdom is enough. 

God, however, does not leave us in the dark. The passage from the Book of Wisdom tells us that God gives wisdom through His Spirit. It is a gift that helps us cut through the noise of the world, the deception of false treasures, and the sound of empty promises. It is not just about intelligence or clever strategies, but wisdom that comes from above. God’s wisdom teaches us to recognise what is true, and to choose what is right and what is eternal. This kind of wisdom is not about being the loudest or the smartest. It is about discernment. It is about courage. It is about choosing love over hate, justice over corruption, truth over lies, service over selfishness.

It is this wisdom that allows us to recognise the true cost of discipleship, yet still choose it as the better way. Following Jesus is not easy. The gospel passage says we must be able to do three (3) things:  First, “Love God above everything and everyone.” It means letting go of attachments, even relationships, if they lead us away from God. It is to consciously choose Christ all the time, above all our favourite things, our most beloved people, our most cherished achievements. Second, “Carry our cross.” It means more than simply enduring a difficult burden. Let us remember that the cross was an instrument of execution so this is a call to self-denial and a willingness to suffer for the sake of following Jesus, even to the point of death. It implies a total surrender of one’s own will, desires, and self-interest to follow His path.  Sometimes that cross is standing up for truth even when it is unpopular. It means making choices that may hurt in the short term but save us in the long run. Lastly, “One must be prepared to give up everything — possessions, status, and even life itself — to follow Jesus.” A true disciple cannot have divided loyalties. Clearly, it is not a command to sell everything we own, but rather to hold all possessions loosely and to willingly give them up for the sake of the Kingdom. A follower’s identity and security must be found in Jesus, not in wealth or belongings.  We need to know that following Jesus requires a radical and all-encompassing commitment. To make a half-baked commitment is making no commitment at all.  Wisdom from above helps us to see that discipleship is costly, but it is the only way to life. 

Let us imagine if we as a people would make our decisions guided not by fear or pride, but by God’s Spirit. Let us imagine if families, communities, even our leaders, prayed first before acting, asking: “Lord, what is your will?” Wouldn’t our nation look very different? Instead of being pulled apart by division, we would be drawn together by truth. Instead of being lost in confusion, we would walk a clearer path. Our Second Reading is a clear example how the wisdom in following Christ gives Paul the confidence to write to Philemon, asking him to welcome his runaway slave Onesimus with forgiveness and to treat him as brother instead of as a slave. The cost of discipleship may be high but it changes our capacity for relationships for the better, it sets our priorities straight, and it enables us to perceive what is truly of value.

It does not take much to realise that what our society needs is more wisdom — God’s wisdom, especially for those in positions of influence and authority who have the capacity to uplift the poor and build God’s Kingdom in our land. So today, we pray for one thing above all: that the Lord may fill us with wisdom. Not the noisy wisdom of the world, but the quiet wisdom of the Spirit that will guide our families, heal our communities, and lead our nation closer to God’s plan.

“Divine Wisdom” a painting by Inese Eglite

The Joy of Walking Humbly with God

Homily: Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29 | Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a | Luke 14:1, 7-14

31 August 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA 

One of the hardest lessons in life is to admit weakness and vulnerability. Many of our lolos (grandfathers) and lolas (grandmothers) know this very well. All their lives they worked hard, provided for their families, and achieved much through their sacrifices. However, when old age comes — when the body grows weak or sickness comes — it is not easy to subject themselves to the care of others, even if they are close family members.  For someone who is always  strong and independent, this can be very humbling. 

However, it is not only the elderly who has trouble with humility. When the younger ones among us… and maybe most of us who have been through tough times discover that life has limits, we would come to realise that not every problem can be solved alone or solely by ourselves in isolation. Yes, by ourselves, we can barely carry our burdens. Yet, we do not wish to ask help, thinking it is shameful to dump this load on others. It is when we finally admit, “I need help! I am not equipped to deal with this problem! I cannot do this by myself!”, that God’s grace manifests most powerfully. 

The Book of Sirach tells us today: “My child, conduct your affairs with humility, and you will be loved more than the giver of gifts. Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favour with God” (Sirach 3:17-18). In other words, the closer we come to God, the more we must learn humility — not pride, not self-reliance, but a heart open to receive. Sirach also uses the example of a sage — a very wise person, that still appreciates proverbs or advice. They may already be knowledgeable, but they do not close themselves to learning and being corrected. He also says that “an attentive ear is the joy of the wise” (Sirach 3:29), meaning there is wisdom in being a humble person who listens, receives, and depends on God’s mercy. 

This same lesson is carried into the Gospel.  Jesus makes an example of the dinner guests scrambling to choose places of honour at the table. He reminds us not to think too highly of ourselves because there are always others who will exceed us in status, wealth, and achievement.  He cautions us against the embarassment should the host relieve us of the honour we claimed for ourselves. It is better to conduct ourselves with humility before the Lord. It is up to Him to elevate us to a place of honour saying, “Friend, move up higher.” (Luke 14:10) In the same way, that we recently spoke of heaven as not something to earn, neither is it a reward we achieve by our own effort; it has and always will be a gift given by God to those who walk in humility and trust. 

The Letter to the Hebrews is a reassurance that the God we bow before is no longer the vengeful and fearsome God of the Old Testament whom the Israelites approached with trembling and fear. We now come to know the God of the New Testament symbolised by Mount Zion — the spiritual and eternal City of God where He welcomes and gathers all to Himself.  Despite our unworthiness, we can approach God, with a sense of belonging and in a spirit of grace and peace, because of Jesus. The sprinkling of blood that “speaks better than Abel’s” (Hebrews 12:24) is a reference to Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, whereas Abel’s blood cries out for vengeance and justice, Christ’s blood merits for us cleansing, forgiveness, and reconciliation with the Father.  

Thus, brothers and sisters, let us walk each day with humble trust, mindful that despite all our strength, power and possessions, we are eternally dependent on the Lord. As a reminder especially to those already serving in the Church:  no matter how much of ourselves we offer for Christ’s Church, let us strive to remain humble. We serve with hearts full of hope, awaiting the day when the Lord Himself will look upon us and say: ‘My friend, come higher. Come, and take your place at the banquet of everlasting life.’

Humility – Etsy

Salvation: Gift, Not Guarantee

Homily: Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Isaiah 66:18–21 / Hebrews 12:5–7, 11–13 / Luke 13:22–30

24 August 2025 

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

Who among us here is sure that he/she is going to heaven?  Please raise your hand. There was a lady in another parish who raised her hand high when asked this question. She was in her sixties then. She strongly believed that her consistent presence at mass, her service in the church and her large donations guaranteed her a place in heaven.  Today she is in her nineties. She is bedridden and has Alzheimer’s disease. She probably thought she was heaven-bound already, but heaven said, ‘Stay a bit longer, we are not done with you down there.’ (Joke lang po.) 

The truth is, no one, not even I would know for sure if we will end up in heaven.  Some religious groups foolishly claim: “As long as you accept Jesus as your Lord and Personal Saviour, you are already saved!” Others go as far as to say: “Membership in our group guarantees salvation — outside of us, there is no hope.”  (Wow, e di sila na!)  There is a real danger to being smugly convinced of our own salvation because when we do, we remove God from the equation and fool ourselves into thinking that human measures can guarantee us heaven. 

Today’s gospel passage is a strong warning against such false security. Jesus does not say: “Follow me and you are safe.” He says: “Strive to enter through the narrow gate.” (Luke 13:24) Why? Because salvation is not an automatic guarantee. It is not about a formula, nor about belonging to an exclusive group. It is about nurturing an ongoing, loving relationship with God — a relationship that calls for conversion, humility, and perseverance. Jesus uses the word “strive” because the work is not easy and it entails much effort, and even sacrifice, on our part. It is a persistent struggle we must overcome throughout life. 

Although, we must do our part to reach heaven, salvation is not within our control.  Salvation is God’s initiative — a gift, not an entitlement, not an achievement. In the First Reading, Isaiah shows us a merciful God whose love and generosity to His chosen ones is beyond measure.  He says, God will gather people from every nation and language, not because they followed a certain formula, but because He Himself chooses to welcome them. This reminds us that heaven is not guaranteed by belonging to a particular group. Some from other faiths may be welcomed in, while some Catholics and other Christians may sadly fall short. Even if we go to Mass, follow the commandments, give donations, and so on and so forth, it does not mean we are fine. God extends His hand to save us, but we must reach out, grab His hand and hang on so He can pull us up. 

The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that when we go through difficulties, we must not perceive it as God punishing us for our weakness and shortcomings.  God is our Father, and we are His adopted children, so He disciplines us as a loving father would his own children. Discipline is not punishment, but training — it keeps us humble, keeps us from drifting into pride, keeps us dependent on God’s grace. Without it, we may believe ourselves better than others and start judging others as morally inferior or unworthy.  Jesus warns us against this self-righteous attitude saying some who thought they would be “inside” will find themselves outside, while those who are least expected — the poor, the humble, the sinners who relied on God’s mercy — will be welcomed in. We can never be too sure of ourselves because God sees beyond the exterior and looks into our hearts. 

Brothers and sisters, today we are invited to examine ourselves: “Where do I place my confidence — in my own effort, in belonging to a group, or in God’s mercy alone?  Let us find it in our hearts to tell the Lord: “I cannot save myself and rely completely on Your mercy.”  Let us be grateful for the free gift of salvation, and ready yourselves to tread the path of humility, surrender and trust that we may enter the “narrow gate”! 

The Price Tag of Following Jesus

Homily: Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Jeremiah 38:4-6, 8-10 / Hebrews 12:1-4 / Luke 12:49-53

17 August 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

We all know — anything worth having comes at a cost. If we want to graduate, we put in the late nights of study. If we want a strong marriage, we learn to be patient and to forgive. Even something as simple as growing a plant requires patience in nurturing it and giving it the proper care.  Following Jesus is no different. And to be honest, it is probably the most costly commitment we can make.

Jeremiah in our First Reading simply told the people what God wanted them to know — that they needed to change their ways or disaster would come. However, instead of thanking him, the leaders saw him as a threat and threw him into a muddy well.  He stood sinking in mud, cold, dark, alone just because he stayed faithful to his mission from God.  (Back then it seemed like such a terrible punishment, yet on stormy weeks, wading in muddy waters is just a regular thing for many of us.)

I am sure that many of us would have had an experience of doing the right thing and getting punished for it.  If we refuse to cheat on exams, do our classmates applaud us or do they roll their eyes, instead?  If we speak up against corruption in the workplace, are we rewarded or alienated by co-workers? If we caution our friends against drinking too much at a party, do they listen or label us as “the killjoy”? It is not comfortable to stand up for what is right, because more often than not, we will stand alone. Either others are too afraid to side with us or the others are complacent in doing what is wrong. 

Life is full of situations that test our resolve for God and all that is good.  We need to pray for the courage and strength to persevere. In the Second Reading, the writer suggests that life is a race. It is not a sprint — but rather, a marathon. We will traverse long paths, hills, bumpy roads and if we are not prepared, we will tire easily. Sometimes we even question why we started running in the first place. Nevertheless, the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us — we are surrounded by a “cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1). Let us think of it as having people in the stands cheering us on like the saints and martyrs and even family and friends who have run this race before — all telling us, “Don’t give up. It is worth it.” (As in Konglish expression of encouragement, “Fighting!” or “Paiting!”)

In the Gospel, we hear Jesus say something that is difficult to comprehend: “Do you think I have come to bring peace on earth? No, but rather division.” (Luke 12:51) At first, one may think Jesus enjoys conflict but on the contrary, tension ensues because the righteous who wish to follow Jesus are met with opposition by those who wish to remain ungodly. The reality is, differences in opinion and convictions exist even within families. If we choose Gospel values over comfort, we will surely face moments where not everyone understands our choices.

This is where the hefty “price tag” comes in. Sometimes the cost is misunderstanding. Sometimes it is being left out. Sometimes it is the heartache of knowing people we love do not share our faith. It is a hard pill to swallow but a necessary one because the cost of not following Jesus is much higher. When we ignore God’s voice just to fit in… when we betray our deepest convictions to avoid discomfort… we lose something far more precious — our integrity, our peace, our true self, and eventually our chance at our heavenly inheritance. The Good News is that we do not pay the price alone. Jesus walks with us. And as one church, we have each other — the community of believers. We can rest assured that in times of struggles, we can rely on our brothers and sisters in the Catholic faith to encourage us, pray with us, or simply remind us that we are not alone. That is the Church being the “cloud of witnesses” for each other, walking alongside one another.

It is true that following Jesus has a price tag, but the reward is worth every sacrifice. Just as graduations, healthy relationships, and great harvests do not come cheap — eternal life does not either. The difference is, when we give our “yes” to Jesus, what we gain lasts forever. Moreover, on the day when we finally cross the finish line, we shall not be thinking about what it costs. Rather, we will be rejoicing that we paid the price, because nothing compares to the joy of being with Him forever.

Neil McBride Art (Marathon Run)

Choosing God, Again and Again

Homily: Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Wisdom 18:6-9 / Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19 / Luke 12:32-48

10 August 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

Online stores have certainly made purchasing easier, don’t we all agree? However, not all are trustworthy sellers. We reduce our chances of getting scammed by checking reviews and testimonials that the products are good and the sellers are legitimate. We only become regular customers when sellers are proven to keep their promise. 

Today’s readings tell us stories of kept promises. These are stories of the Israelites being led out of slavery from Egypt, of Abraham being led to the Promised Land, and receiving the gift of a son in his old age. Although the odds were stacked against any of these promises coming true, they did, because it was God who made these promises and fulfilled them. For this, there was no reason for the people of God to ever doubt the Lord. And yet so many grew weary and impatient waiting for the fulfilment of God’s promises and chose to become unfaithful to Him. 

The problem they experienced is what is highlighted in today’s liturgy — faith is not dependent on feelings. It is a decision.  Often, when we get what we pray for, when everything is going well, when we feel inspired and hopeful, it is so easy to be aware how close God is to us. Parang ang gaan magdasal, ang sarap magpasalamat.  (It seems like it is easy to pray; it feels good to be grateful.) But if we are honest, there are also days when we do not feel anything. We pray, but nothing happens. We go to Mass, but our mind keeps wandering. We try to do the right thing, but it feels like no one notices. No reward. No comfort. Just silence.

The challenge for us is to choose to trust God, even when we do not see the full picture. It is choosing to keep going, kahit di natin maintindihan kung bakit nangyayari ang mga bagay-bagay. (…even if we do not understand why things are happening.) Take Abraham in the Second Reading, God told him: “Leave everything — your home, your land, your comfort zone.” (Hebrews 11:8-12) However, God did not say where to go or what would happen next.  And still, Abraham obeyed. Why? Because he trusted the One who made the promise.

Faith is walking even when the path is not clear. The Israelites learned to trust in God because He proved His faithfulness to them by delivering them out of slavery.  Our First Reading from the Book of Wisdom (Wisdom 18:6-9) recounts how they blindly followed the instructions of God and how God followed through His promise during the First Passover. They were told to prepare: sacrifice a lamb, pack their things, and wait. They waited in silence and in the dark for God to move. That is not about feelings. That is pure trust. That is faith.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells us: “Do not be afraid, little flock… be ready.” (Luke 12:32, 35) He does not give a fixed timeline nor does He give a specific sign to lookout for. He is not saying, “Live in anticipation of an earth-shattering moment that will fill you with excitement.” He is saying, “Just live. Go on with your life, but live always prepared. Stay faithful.” Even when things feel quiet; even when life feels ordinary; even when nothing dramatic is happening, God is present, watching and waiting for the appointed time for Him to move. 

I know of someone who turned her back on the corporate world and devoted her time and talent to help the Church. She knows it is a noble cause and that good will come of her efforts but she is often discouraged by the poorly constructed systems that she must work with — other volunteers coast along and the leader tends to claim all the credit of accomplishments for himself. Despite her frustrations, she stays on because she believes God is still in the process of revealing why He brought her to that place. Yes, faith is choosing to believe even when we do not feel it, choosing to serve even when no one says “thank you”, and choosing to love even when it is hard. That is real faith. That is spiritual maturity.  We do not have to feel aligned with God all the time. We just have to keep showing up.  Keep choosing God.

If lately we feel like our faith is weak, that is okay. We are not alone. Even the saints went through long periods of spiritual dryness — doubting and wondering if God was near. Yet, they did not give up. They just kept choosing God, one day at a time.  So can we.  Faith is not a mood.  It is a choice — a decision we make — again and again — in love.

Blessed with What Truly Matters

Homily: Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time | Year C

Ecclesiastes 1:2; 2:21-23 | Psalm 90 | Colossians 3:1-5, 9-11 | Luke 12:13-21

3 August 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

There is a saying that goes, “The real tragedy is not that life is short, but that we waste so much of it before we truly start to live.” Raise your hand if you use an iPhone.  I am sure you are careful with those phones because they are not cheap. Let me tell you a story of a girl who switched from Android to an iPhone 6 in 2014. Since then, every time Apple comes up with a new iPhone model, she feels the need to upgrade her phone. She knows she cannot afford it on her regular salary so she works overtime, limits her expenses and does work on the side so she can save up for it. She is so busy working that she has little time to meet up with friends, join family outings, and more so volunteer at church. To her mind, life is short so she should be able to enjoy the things she likes. She does not realise she is missing out on life by constantly chasing after the latest iPhone. 

I invite you take a few seconds and think about what you are chasing after in life? Your dream car? Your dream house? Your dream luxury bag? Now what are you willing to give up to attain it? Can you sleep less to work more? Can you sacrifice family time to attend to clients?  Will you forego Sunday mass for a work meeting? It is not that work or achievements are bad — but if they become our main purpose, they leave us empty. 

The First Reading from Ecclesiastes bluntly tells us: “Vanity of vanities! All things are vanity!” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) The writer has seen how people spend their lives toiling, acquiring, and worrying, only to have no peace of mind and eventually leave their possessions to someone else when they die. 

St. Paul, in the Letter to the Colossians, reminds us that as followers of Christ we need to be concerned with the things that last and truly matter: “Seek what is above, where Christ is seated.” (Colossians 3:1) He reminds us that our true identity and meaning are hidden in Christ. We are asked to cease our bad habits of “immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and the greed that is idolatry” (Colossians 3:5) because they lead us away from Christ. Life is not about clinging to possessions, reputations, or earthly securities, but about living as people who belong to God, wearing the “new self” renewed in Christ. 

Jesus drives the lesson home in the Gospel when He tells the story of the rich man who stored up much grain thinking he had secured his future: “Relax, eat, drink, and be merry!” (Luke 12:19) The surprising twist is that God is not impressed at all. Instead, He calls the man a fool — because that very night his life would end, and all the fruits of his hard work would slip from his hands.All his barns and goods — what would they mean now that he was to die that night? The tragedy was not just his death; it was that he never really lived beyond himself. 

One of my favourite poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay reads:  

My candle burns at both ends

It will not last the night;

But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends –

It gives a lovely light.

I like it because it reminds me that life is to be lived passionately in the present — not tomorrow, not only when we reach our goals, not only when we have everything we think we need. Life is to be lived now: with gratitude, with generosity, with faith. Children often know this better than we, adults; they live in the moment; they trust there will be a tomorrow. We, adults sometimes forget, weighed down by worries, or chasing after more and more. 

The Gospel invites us not to waste life. It is short, fragile, and fleeting, but in God, it is also beautiful and full of meaning. The way to live it well is not to cling tightly to possessions or success, but to be “rich in what matters to God” — faith, love, generosity, and a heart open to His presence. So today, let us ask ourselves: Am I rushing through life chasing after things that will not last? If our answer is yes, then let us take this moment as a reminder that life is to be lived — fully, gratefully, and always in God.

The Unfiltered Prayer of the Heart

Homily: Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time | Year C

Genesis 18:20–32 | Psalm 138 | Colossians 2:12–14 | Luke 11:1–13

27 July 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

How do you pray? Do you follow what is recommended in Matthew 6:6 “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”? Or do you like praying with friends — eyes closed, hands raised in the air and swaying to music? Or do you prefer to pray on your knees in church reciting the rosary and novenas?  Or do you prefer to sit under a tree, silence yourself and just be aware that God is present? 

These are all perfectly good ways to pray. Some critics of Catholicism fault us for having “formulaic prayers” whereas they claim to pray “from the heart”. Do you agree with them?  What they call “memorised prayers” are actually people’s heartfelt pleas to God that have proven effective in sanctifying them and obtaining graces. These communal prayers help us to pray together especially when we pray aloud in groups. Imagine the noise and disorder if we gathered here and said out loud our personal prayers!  On the other hand, when we pray in private, styles can vary, using words, works, and even silence. What is important is that we pray with openness and honesty, trusting that God is listening and communing with us.

When we pray, do we find ourselves struggling for the “right” words? Do we believe that we have to sound “nice” in our prayer even if we are hurt, tired or frustrated? Do we make an effort to be polite in prayer, telling God only what we think He wants to hear, not what we are really feeling?  Why “filter” ourselves?  God sees through us and knows us better than we know ourselves and He loves us, no matter what. We have no reason to hide. We can be real with Him. He is not offended by who we are especially when we are wounded, confused, and even angry. 

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells a story about a man who knocks on his friend’s door at midnight asking for help. (Sa dis-oras ng gabi, nanggugulo.)  It was undeniably inconvenient for his friend, but he was not afraid to impose because He trusted that by sheer persistence, his friend would overlook the impropriety of his timing and approach and address his need. (Ang nagmamalasakit, minsan nakukuha din sa pangungulit.) Jesus says: Pray like that. Knock like that. Come to God like that. According to Bible commentators, the original Greek word used for “persistence” in this Gospel is anaideia, which literally means shamelessness (walang hiya-hiya).  Jesus is saying: When we pray, we have to be shameless. We have to be bold. We have to be real.

We see that kind of prayer in Abraham. He “haggles” with God. “What if there are Fifty? Forty-five? Forty? Thirty?” He was not ashamed to bargain with God. (Hindi siya nahiya na makipagtawaran sa Diyos.) He was not being disrespectful, just brutally honest. Abraham knew he was speaking to Someone who listens… Someone who cares.  

This same honesty — sometimes even desperation — is even more powerfully evident in the Psalms, particularly the Lamentations. These are the kind of prayers we often ignore or try to sanitise. But just listen to how raw these words are:

         •       “How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1)

         •       “Why do You sleep, O Lord? Wake up!” (Psalm 44:23)

         •       “My God, my God, why have You abandoned me?” (Psalm 22:1 — which Jesus Himself prayed on the cross.)  

These are not pleasant and polite prayers. They are cries; “tantrums” of faith. They are the prayers of people who are not afraid to tell God the truth about what they are feeling — because they know God can handle it.

Pope Francis once said: “We must pray to the Lord with truth — the truth of our heart. Let us not be afraid to say to Him exactly what we feel.  The prayer that Jesus taught us is one where we dare to call God ‘Father.’  It is that relationship between Father and child (even adopted children as we all are) that cuts away the pretence and the shyness. He is a loving Father who listens unconditionally and is generous with His children even when we can be disappointing to Him.  Sometimes, the most faithful prayer is not “Lord, Thy will be done” — but “Lord, I don’t understand Your will right now, and I am struggling to trust.”  That is still prayer. And sometimes, it is the kind God loves most — because it is real.  Prayer, after all is not about sounding holy. It is about being honest and sincere. 

So, I invite you, brothers and sisters: Let us start praying as we are, not the way we think God wants to hear us. Let us come to Him tired. Let us come to Him confused. Let us come to Him full of questions. Let us come to Him even when we are angry. Let us not be afraid. He is always waiting with love.  When we knock honestly — even shamelessly — the door will be opened. And the Father, who knows our hearts better than we do, will gladly welcome us!

Hospitality of the Heart

Homily: Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Genesis 18:1–10 | Colossians 1:24–28 | Luke 10:38–42

20 July 2025 

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

One of my favourite mass songs is “Panalangin sa Pagiging Bukas Palad” (A Prayer for Generosity). We ask the Lord to teach us to open our hands so that our palms are exposed. Why do you think? Let us try to open our hands.  This is the hand position that allows us to receive! If our hand is holding on to something or closed in a fist, do you think we can receive something that is being handed to us?  In order for us to receive, we have to be open. 

OPENNESS. That is the beautiful theme quietly running through all our readings today. It may not be about the openness of one’s hands but rather it is about the openness of a heart ready to receive. It is not just about politeness or hospitality. It is about being open to God, especially when He comes in unexpected ways. 

Take Abraham in our First Reading. It is a hot day, and he is resting by his tent when three strangers appear. He rushes to welcome them, offers food and water — not knowing he is welcoming God, Himself. His hospitality is rewarded because in that moment of simple openness, he receives a life-changing promise: “This time next year, your wife Sarah will have a son.” (Genesis 18:10)

Then in the Gospel, Jesus visits Martha and Mary. Martha is busy serving, while Mary simply sits and listens. Martha gets really upset and frustrated, but Jesus gently tells her: “You are anxious and worried about many things. Mary has chosen the better part.” (Luke 10:41-42) He is not scolding Martha for making an effort to see to their needs, but He is reminding her that she ought to take advantage of the opportunity to be present for what truly matters.  Martha welcomed Jesus into her home, but Mary welcomed Him into her heart. 

Paul, in the Second Reading, also reminds us that openness is not always about action — it can also be about bearing suffering with grace. He speaks of Christ living in us: “Christ in you — the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27) Paul’s whole life, even his pain, becomes a way of receiving and revealing Christ. He rejoices because despite his personal hardship, he knows that his efforts have allowed for the Church to grow, and more people to know and experience the love of Christ and the Good News of the Kingdom. 

What do these stories say to us? They show us that God comes to His people — again and again. He chooses to be present to us through strangers, silence, interruptions, and even suffering.  Are we open — not just with our time, but with our hearts?  Have we made space for Him lately? Or are we so busy with everything that we have forgotten to be more open; welcoming to receive? Sometimes, it is because we are so judgmental of people and situations that we fail to see the possibility of God being present through them. 

Today, let us take inspiration from Abraham, Mary and Paul. Abraham shows us to welcome the unexpected.  Mary shows us to pause and listen. Paul shows us to let Christ live within us — even in hardship. Let us always keep in mind that God loves us so much that He cannot stay away from His people. He comes to bring joy, to guide and to console.  Let us pray that we will not miss the time of His coming; that we will recognise Him and be open to receive the grace and blessing of His loving presence.

Drawing Near to the Hurting

Homily: Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Deuteronomy 30:10-14; Colossians 1:15-20; Luke 10:25-37

13 July 2025

Fr. Ricky Cañet Montañez, AA

It is not easy to be a Christian. Some people may say that all you have to do is close your eyes and accept Jesus as your Lord and Saviour — and just like that, you’re saved and bound for heaven. However, know that following Christ is more than a one-time prayer. It is a daily journey filled with choices, struggles, and sacrifices. Every day we live, we face trials and temptations that challenge our faith in Christ’s teachings and promises.

In today’s First Reading from Deuteronomy, Moses reminds the people that God is not far from them. He says: “Heed the voice of the Lord your God and keep His commandments… for this word is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart.” (Deuteronomy 30:10,14) He is telling them — and us — that God is always speaking. His Word is close, not far away. It is already planted in our hearts. For those of us who come to Mass regularly and reflect on the Scriptures, God’s Word is something we’ve already heard and received. The challenge now is to live it out. However, let us be honest — that is not always easy. Living the Word does not mean we are free from stress, pressure, or pain.

Just recently, many of us were deeply saddened by the heart-breaking news of a young Italian priest, only thirty-five (35) years old, who took his own life. It is hard to understand. One would think that a priest — someone who speaks the Word of God daily, who celebrates the sacraments — would somehow be shielded from despair. And yet, he wasn’t. His death is painful and confusing. For many of us priests, it has become a wake-up call: to be more attentive, more compassionate, not just to our parishioners, but also to one another.

In the Gospel, Jesus is asked, “Who is my neighbour?” (Luke 10:29) And in response, He tells the story of a man who was beaten, robbed, and left for dead. Two religious leaders passed by. Nevertheless, it was a Samaritan — someone unexpected — stopped, drew near, and showed mercy. Perhaps the priest who died was like that wounded man. Outwardly joyful, seemingly strong, but silently suffering inside. Those who knew him said he seemed happy. No one really knew he was struggling. No one stopped long enough to notice. This painful story reminds us of something we sometimes forget: Priests are human too. Yes, we are not immune to exhaustion, loneliness, or emotional pain. Like many others, some of us struggle with anxiety, depression, and the quiet pressure of expectations. Our bodies grow tired. Our hearts can grow weary. We, too, are among the wounded.

Moreover, this is not just about priests. This is about all of us. Every person is carrying something. There may be people around us — in our families, in our workplaces, even in this very church — who are suffering silently, putting on a smile while struggling inside. The Good Samaritan reminds us of what we are called to do: to draw near, to care, to listen, to love.

Hence, if you are hurting today, know this: you are not alone. God is near. You do not have to carry your burdens by yourself. Speak to someone. Let someone walk with you. Likewise, if we know someone who seems tired, withdrawn, or struggling — do not wait. Let us reach out. Check in. Pray with them. Be present. Sometimes, all a person needs is someone who cares enough to stop and listen. That small act of presence may not solve everything — but it might save a life.

As Christians, we are called to live out the Gospel not just with our lips, but with our lives. When we care for one another, especially the wounded and weary, we are living the very heart of Christ’s message. Let us be people who notice. Let us be people who draw near. Because God is close to the broken-hearted; so must we be. Amen, let us “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10:37)

The Good Samaritan by Olga Bakhtina