predication.net

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today the Church celebrates the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. At first sight, this feast contains a strange contradiction. We exalt an instrument of suffering and death. The cross was one of the cruelest forms of execution in the ancient world. It was associated with humiliation, defeat, and shame. And yet Christians place the cross above our altars, in our homes, around our necks, and we make the sign of the cross when we begin and end our prayers.

Why?

Because after Jesus Christ, the Cross no longer means only death. It has become the sign of love, salvation, and victory.

Jesus says in the Gospel: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.” These words help us understand the mystery we celebrate today. At the center of Christianity is not what human beings do for God, but what God has done for us.

And what has God done?

He loved us so much that he entered our human condition. He accepted our weakness, suffering, rejection, and even death. On Calvary, God did not remain far away from human pain. In Jesus Christ, he entered into it.

This is why, when we look at the Cross, we should not see only nails, wounds, and suffering. We should see love.

The Cross tells us: This is how much you are loved.

There is a beautiful thought that says: “I asked Jesus, ‘How much do you love me?’ He stretched out his arms on the Cross and said, ‘This much.’”

That is the message of Calvary.

Jesus could have saved himself. Those standing beneath the Cross even mocked him: “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” But Jesus did not come down. Not because he lacked the power, but because he chose to remain faithful to love.

The greatness of Christ is not that he avoided suffering. His greatness is that suffering could not destroy his love.

He was betrayed, but he continued to love.

He was abandoned, but he continued to love.

He was mocked, but he continued to love.

He was crucified, but even from the Cross he prayed: “Father, forgive them.”

This is why the Cross is the throne of Christ the King. His crown is made of thorns, his throne is made of wood, and his royal power is the power of self-giving love.

But today’s feast also speaks about our crosses.

Every human life has them. Sometimes they are small; sometimes they are very heavy. Illness can become a cross. Loneliness can become a cross. Difficulties in marriage or family life can become a cross. The death of someone we love can become a cross. Old age, disappointment, misunderstanding, failure, anxiety about the future—all these things can weigh heavily upon us.

Christian faith does not say suffering is good in itself. Jesus himself healed the sick and comforted those who suffered. We should therefore do what we reasonably can to relieve suffering—our own and that of others.

But some crosses we cannot simply remove.

Then the question becomes: What will I do with this cross?

We can carry it alone, becoming increasingly bitter and discouraged. Or we can unite it with the Cross of Christ and say:

“Jesus, I do not understand why this has happened. I would not have chosen it. But since I must walk this road, walk it with me. Give me strength. Do not allow my suffering to destroy my faith, my hope, or my ability to love.”

And something remarkable can happen. The cross may remain, but we are no longer carrying it alone.

This is one of the deepest meanings of Christian faith. Christianity does not promise us a life without crosses. It promises us Christ in the midst of our crosses.

There is another lesson.

Sometimes we notice others’ crosses but do nothing to make them lighter. Perhaps today we should ask ourselves: Whose cross could I help carry?

Perhaps an older adult needs our presence. Perhaps someone is lonely and needs a telephone call. Perhaps someone in our family needs forgiveness. Perhaps a sick person needs encouragement. Perhaps someone is silently struggling and needs to know that somebody cares.

Simon of Cyrene helped Jesus carry his Cross. We too can become a Simon of Cyrene for another person.

And finally, the Cross reminds us that suffering and death do not have the last word.

Good Friday was not the end.

Beyond the Cross came the empty tomb. Beyond death came resurrection. Beyond apparent defeat came victory.

That is why Christians can look at the Cross with hope.

When everything seems lost, God may still be at work.

When we cannot see the way forward, God has not abandoned us.

When suffering seems meaningless, Christ is beside us.

And when death finally comes, the Cross points beyond the grave toward eternal life.

Dear brothers and sisters, today let us look once more at the crucified Christ.

When we are proud, let the Cross teach us humility.

When we are selfish, let it teach us generosity.

When we refuse to forgive, let it remind us of Christ’s forgiveness.

When we suffer, let it give us courage.

When we are afraid of death, let it remind us of the Resurrection.

And whenever we make the sign of the Cross, let us not do it mechanically. Let us remember what we are proclaiming:

I belong to the One who loved me to the end.

The Cross was once a sign of shame. Christ made it a sign of glory.

It was an instrument of death. Christ made it the tree of life.

It appeared to be a defeat. Christ made it the sign of victory.

Therefore today, with the whole Church, we proclaim:

We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you, because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the world.

Amen.

Last summer, some friends of mine were on holiday in Prague and decided to visit the Jewish Quarter. Among the many remarkable places they saw, they were especially moved by the 500-year-old Pinkas Synagogue. Its interior walls are covered with the names of nearly 80,000 Jewish victims of the Holocaust from Bohemia and Moravia. Written in black and red, the names are arranged by the communities the victims came from and are accompanied by their dates of birth and death.

Can you imagine thousands upon thousands of names written on a wall? It is a deeply moving sight. Yet these are not simply names. Every name represents a human life. Every name belonged to a person who had a family, hopes and dreams, joys and sorrows. Behind every name there is a story.

Something similar can be experienced at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. There, thousands of names are engraved in black granite, commemorating members of the United States Armed Forces who lost their lives in the Vietnam War. Again, every name has a story behind it.

A long list of names may seem uninteresting if we forget that behind every name there is a human story. Perhaps this is one reason why many people are tempted to skip the genealogies and lists of names in the Bible. When we come across the genealogy of Jesus in the Gospel, we may be tempted to pass over it quickly and move on to a more “interesting” passage of Scripture.

But we should not overlook these lists. God placed them in Sacred Scripture for a reason. Every name belongs to the history of salvation. Every person has a place in God’s plan.

On September 8, we celebrate the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and on September 12, the Church celebrates the Holy Name of Mary. These two feasts are closely connected. First, we rejoice at the birth of a child; a few days later, we honor the name given to her: Mary.

In our thoughts, we can return for a moment to the cradle of Mary, newly born into the home of Joachim and Anne. Like her joyful parents, we look with tenderness upon this little child. At that moment, no one could yet see all that God would accomplish through her. Yet from the very beginning, Mary had a unique place in God’s plan of salvation.

Saint Luke tells us: “The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary.”

It is such a simple sentence, and yet that name would become one of the most beloved names in the history of Christianity.

The name Mary therefore reminds us not only of a person, but also of a whole story—the story of faith, obedience, humility, love and complete trust in God.

Mary said yes to God. She carried Jesus beneath her heart. She gave birth to Him in Bethlehem. She cared for Him in Nazareth. She followed Him throughout His public ministry. She stood beneath the Cross when so many others had fled. And after the Resurrection, she remained with the disciples in prayer.

Her name carries the story of a mother.

Perhaps this reminds us of something important in our own lives. We all need mothers to accompany us on our journey. Some of us have already lost our earthly mothers. Yet throughout our lives, God often gives us other people who care for us with a mother’s heart.

Even in our parishes, we meet women who care for others with remarkable kindness, patience, and generosity. They notice when someone is lonely. They help when someone is in need. They pray for others, encourage them, and quietly serve the community. In this sense, they become spiritual mothers to many.

Saint Paul understood how important such people are. At the end of his Letter to the Romans, he gives us a long list of names. He mentions Phoebe, Priscilla and Aquila, and many others who had helped him in his ministry.

To someone reading the letter today, these names may seem like a mere list. But for Paul they were much more than that.

They were people who had prayed with him, worked with him, suffered with him, and supported him.

They were people who had become part of his story. Every priest could probably make a similar list. During his ministry, a priest has the privilege of serving in different parishes and communities. In each place, God gives him people who accompany him, encourage him, pray for him, and help him in his ministry.

Over the years, we carry many names in our hearts. We remember them with gratitude, and we bring them before God in our prayers.

Your faith, your prayers, your kindness, and your service are part of the story of this Christian community. And, more importantly, your name is known to God.

Behind every name there is a story. Behind your name there is a story as well—a story that God knows better than anyone else.

Today we honor one particular name: Mary.

For Christians throughout the centuries, the name of Mary has been a name of tenderness, consolation and hope. When we speak her name, we remember the woman who trusted God completely and who always leads us to her Son.

Therefore, on this Memorial of the Holy Name of Mary, let us entrust ourselves once again to her maternal care.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, take us beneath your protective mantle. Accompany us on our journey of faith. Teach us to trust God as you trusted Him, to say yes to His will as you did, and above all, lead us always to your Son, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives us one of the most memorable images in the New Testament:
“Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?”
It is almost a humorous picture: a person with a large beam in his eye trying to perform delicate surgery on someone else’s eye. Yet behind this exaggeration lies a very serious truth about human nature. We often see the faults of others much more clearly than we see our own.
We notice when another person is impatient, but we excuse our own impatience. We criticize someone for being proud, but perhaps we do not recognize our own pride. We complain that someone speaks badly about others, while we ourselves participate in gossip. We expect understanding and forgiveness when we fail, but when someone else fails, we can become severe judges.
Jesus is not telling us that we must never recognize what is wrong. Good and evil are real. Sometimes love even requires us to correct another person. Parents must correct their children. Teachers must correct their students. Priests have a responsibility to speak about sin and conversion. Friends sometimes need enough courage to tell each other an uncomfortable truth.
But Jesus teaches us how we should do this.
Before looking at another person, we must look at ourselves.
“First remove the wooden beam from your eye.”
That word “first” is important.
Jesus does not say: “Ignore the splinter in your brother’s eye.” He says: first examine yourself. First allow God to purify your own heart. First acknowledge your own weakness. Then you will see clearly enough to help your brother or sister.
There is a great difference between judging someone and helping someone.
Judgment says: “I am better than you.”
Love says: “I too am weak. Let us walk toward God together.”
Judgment humiliates. Love tries to heal.
Judgment enjoys discovering another person’s weakness. Love suffers because of it and wants the person to become free.
A person who has honestly confronted his own sins usually becomes more merciful toward the sins of others. When I know how many times God has forgiven me, it becomes more difficult for me to refuse forgiveness to another person.
This is why self-knowledge is so important in the Christian life.
We can ask ourselves: What is the wooden beam in my eye?
Perhaps it is pride. Perhaps resentment that I have carried for years. Perhaps jealousy. Perhaps an unwillingness to forgive. Perhaps I constantly criticize other people. Perhaps I see everything that is wrong in my family, parish, workplace, Church or society, but rarely ask what I could change.
Christian conversion begins when I stop asking only, “What is wrong with them?” and begin asking, “Lord, what needs to change in me?”
This prayer requires courage.
It is much easier to analyze another person’s conscience than our own. We can spend hours thinking about what someone else should have done differently. Jesus redirects our attention: look first into your own heart.
And yet this Gospel is not meant to discourage us. Jesus speaks like a physician. A physician points to an illness because he wants to heal it.
Christ does not reveal our sins in order to humiliate us. He reveals them so that He can forgive and transform us.
Therefore, when we discover the “wooden beam” in our own eye, we should not despair. We should bring it to Christ. This is precisely what happens when we sincerely repent, when we pray for conversion, and especially when we receive God’s forgiveness.
Then something beautiful happens.
The more we experience the mercy of God, the more merciful our eyes become. We begin to look at other people differently. We still recognize their faults, but we no longer reduce them to those faults. We remember that every person is struggling with something we may not know. We remember that every sinner can change because we ourselves constantly need conversion.
Dear brothers and sisters, imagine how different our families, communities and parishes would be if, before every criticism, we asked ourselves:
“Do I have something similar in my own heart?”
Before condemning someone for impatience: Am I always patient?
Before criticizing someone for selfishness: How generous am I?

Love for one’s enemies is not about liking harmful behavior or erasing justice; it’s a disciplined commitment to see the other’s humanity while refusing to mirror their harm. It protects your integrity, keeps conflict from defining your character, and opens space—however small—for transformation.

Why it matters
– It breaks cycles: Retaliation strengthens identities built on opposition. Love interrupts the script.
– It preserves agency: If your enemy dictates your reactions, they control you. Love reclaims your freedom to choose.
– It clarifies justice: Compassion and accountability can coexist. Love seeks repair over revenge.
– It widens truth: When you see only the worst in someone, you miss the conditions that shaped them and the pathways to change.

What it isn’t
– Not passivity: You can love an enemy and set firm boundaries, pursue legal remedies, or defend yourself.
– Not denial: It acknowledges harm clearly and names it.
– Not instant reconciliation: Forgiveness and trust are different; rebuilding trust requires evidence over time.
– Not superiority: “Loving” as a way to feel morally above the other is another form of contempt.

What it asks of you
– Separate person from behavior: Condemn the act without collapsing the person into it.
– Hold complexity: People do harmful things for reasons—fear, ignorance, pain—but reasons aren’t excuses.
– Keep your own house in order: Examine how your pride, insecurity, or group loyalties fuel enmity.Practices to cultivate it
– Pause before reacting: Extend the gap between stimulus and response. Breathe, walk, wait a day to reply.
– Humanize deliberately: Picture the person as a child; imagine their fears and hopes. This softens harsh judgments without excusing actions.
– Language discipline: Speak about behaviors and impacts (“What you did harmed X”) rather than identities (“You are evil”).
– Curiosity over certainty: Ask one sincere question about their view before you argue yours. Understanding isn’t agreement.
– Boundaries with care: State limits clearly and calmly—what you will not accept and what will happen if it continues.
– Small mercies: Acknowledge accurate points, show basic courtesy, refuse to humiliate. Dignity de-escalates.
– Practice indirect goodwill: If direct contact is unsafe, wish them clarity, healing, and better choices in your private reflections.
– Repair where you can: Correct your own missteps quickly. Modeling accountability invites it in return.
– Community support: Allies and mentors can help you sustain compassion without becoming a doormat.

When it’s hardest
– In repeated harm: Shift from reconciliation to containment. Love may look like strict boundaries, documented communication, and third-party mediation.
– With systemic injustice: Couple compassion with collective action—policy change, advocacy, and protection for the vulnerable.
– With betrayal: Give forgiveness time. Sometimes love is refusing to let bitterness write your story, even while ending the relationship.

Benefits you can feel
– Less rumination and stress: You stop rehearsing grievance scripts.
– Sharper judgment: Compassion reduces bias and tunnel vision.
– Greater influence: People are more likely to soften when they’re not shamed.
– Self-respect: You become the kind of person you can trust in conflict.

A simple commitment
– I will name harm honestly.
– I will protect the vulnerable, including myself.
– I will not return contempt for contempt.
– I will look for the smallest next act that reduces harm and preserves dignity—mine and theirs.

Loving an enemy is rigorous hope. It’s the choice to act from your deepest values when circumstances tempt you to abandon them. It won’t always change your enemy. It will change you—and often, that is where better futures begin.

Peter Claver — Jesuit, missionary, and the man who signed his own name as a slave.

His story is one of the most striking in the early modern church.

### Who he was

**Peter Claver, SJ** — in Catalan Pere Claver i Sobocano, in Spanish Pedro Claver y Corberó — was born 26 June 1580 in Verdú, Catalonia, and died 8 September 1654 in Cartagena, in the New Kingdom of Granada.

The Catholic Church venerates him as a saint, his feast is September 9, and he is listed as patron of slaves, Colombia, ministry to African Americans, and seafarers. He was beatified in 1850 and canonized on 15 January 1888 by Pope Leo XIII.

After his canonization, Leo XIII said: “No life, except the life of Christ, has moved me so deeply as that of Peter Claver”.

### From Catalonia to Cartagena

Claver came from a prosperous, devout farming family near Barcelona. He studied at the University of Barcelona, and at 20 entered the Society of Jesus in Tarragona.

During his philosophy studies in Palma, Mallorca, he worked as a porter alongside St. Alphonsus Rodriguez, a lay brother known for holiness. Rodriguez told him God wanted him in the Spanish colonies.

He volunteered, arrived in Cartagena in 1610-1615 — then the main slave port of Spanish America, where 10,000 enslaved people a year were landed — and finished his theology studies in Tunja and Bogotá before being ordained.

On his solemn profession in 1622 he signed in Latin:

> *Petrus Claver, aethiopum semper servus* — Peter Claver, servant of the Africans forever

### 40 years as “slave of the slaves”

Cartagena was brutal. People arrived after the Atlantic crossing in holds where an estimated one-third died in transit. Claver made it his practice to board the slave ships as soon as they docked.

He brought food, water, citrus fruit, tobacco, and medicine to establish trust, then spent hours nursing the sick and injured. He built on the work of his mentor, Alonso de Sandoval, who had spent 40 years learning African customs and languages.

Claver used African interpreters, learned what was described as “the language of Angola” himself, and developed mnemonic methods — using hands to remember sacraments and prayers — to catechize people who spoke dozens of different languages.

During his 40 years there, it is estimated he personally baptized around 300,000 people. When the slave ships were not in port, he traveled inland to plantations, refusing the hospitality of the owners and lodging in the slave quarters, preaching in the city squares, in hospitals, and to sailors, traders, Muslims, and condemned prisoners.

He was not always popular for it. The city’s Spanish elite often refused to enter the same church as those he served, and magistrates considered him a nuisance — until his death.

### Final years and legacy

In his last years he was too ill to leave his room. He lingered for four years, largely forgotten and neglected, and died on 8 September 1654. When news spread, the room was stripped of relics and the city that had criticized him ordered a public funeral.

His body is still preserved in the Iglesia de San Pedro Claver in Cartagena, his former Jesuit residence.His legacy lives in two very concrete ways:

1. **Human rights.** The Congress of Colombia declared September 9 as the National Day of Human Rights in his honor.
2. **Continuing missions.** The Knights of Peter Claver — the largest African-American Catholic fraternal organization in the US — the Missionary Sisters of St. Peter Claver, and the Apostleship of the Sea all claim his inspiration.

Historians also wrestle with the complexities: like many Jesuits of his time in Cartagena, Claver himself used enslaved labor for his ministry, and some modern scholars debate how the Church remembers him as “the saint of the slave trade” while slavery itself continued to flourish.al reflection, a school essay, a one-page homily for September 9, or a more academic profile — which tone would be most useful for you?

Let us notice what our Lord reproaches all those who consider themselves His faithful friends: “Your love is like a morning cloud and like the dew that passes away early” (Hos 6:4). This verse could also be paraphrased like this: you begin, but you do not persevere; you come, but immediately you leave. Your perseverance does not last longer than one morning, at most one day! It is not difficult to say: I love you! The difficulty appears at the moment when we add to this the little word: forever, but even more so when it comes to turning our confession into concrete deeds. For “forever” lasts a long time, a very long time. As long as the enchantment with the beloved person is still alive, keeping fidelity is neither laborious nor painful. However, for this enchantment not to fade with the passage of time, which “reveals the reality of life,” he who loves should be able to reawaken this enchantment within himself, to keep it in its original freshness. Is it a plot of love against itself? Not at all. The truth is simply like that. For what was attractive to you just yesterday surely deserves to attract you even today, as long as you have enough strength to rise from mere emotional yearning to fidelity, from complaints and whining to melodies. No one wishes to say: I am unable to love. Yet everyone is in danger that one day he will catch himself, forced by circumstances, saying: I am at the end of my rope, I can no longer love. For if a man is to love always the same object, a spring must gush forth in the depth of his soul. On one hand, he must not forget the past; on the other hand, he must be capable of creating. Every day we need to discover something that is to form the content of precisely this day. Love can sometimes be a weakness, but to remain in love or in friendship is always a sign of magnanimity and a victory.

You shall love the Lord your God: this commandment does not place upon us a burden that we could not bear. But what strength does it require of us if we are to fulfill it every day, without change and for a whole lifetime! And yet perhaps very little is enough to achieve this goal. Just as little is enough if we are to keep a fire going in the middle of a forest, where there is no shortage of wood. And yet even this minimum is often beyond our strength. Hardly does God’s friendship cease to be attractive to us, hardly does the oppressive grayness of everyday monotony begin to crush us, and we are left with only one possibility of how to detach ourselves from the world of lowlands and start climbing up again: it is prayer. Whoever wants to remain in friendship with God must persevere in prayer.

For it is no small thing to persevere in love for an object that is beyond our sensory perception, and to rely only on a single means that likewise cannot satiate our senses with the food to which they are accustomed. Only theological love, the gift of God’s grace, binds us to God. And it is by no means easy for us to remain vigilant, to ask for this grace daily and to be able to receive it.

Truly tremendous effort is prayer in which a person continues even when the spring of his feelings and desires is drying up. Tremendous is also human patience in the face of God’s silence. Tremendous is the persistent effort with which a person is able to seek love that remains hidden and that seems as if it does not even want to reveal itself. Tremendous is the limping poor man who does not abandon the Almighty and tries to keep pace with Him.” (Father Hieronym, Glowing Embers, Lúč, 2017, pp.

Father Hieronym further emphasizes in his reflections that faith must result in an effort to persevere on the path we have embarked upon. He says that we must consider perseverance as a fundamental value. For whenever the world goes in a certain direction, we can bet that the Spirit of God is blowing in the opposite direction. Today more than ever, the world craves change and adventure. From this we can conclude that God does not want either change or adventure for His friends. He thus invites us to build on certainty and on perseverance. He invites us to exclude any doubt about the meaning of what we are doing. He compares all perseverance to the work of a forester who today plants, and his great-grandson will cut the first trees in a hundred years.

What can this perseverance mean for us? A constant return to the basics. The first step on the path of evangelization is our oikos. The group of people with whom we have a relationship. That is probably where the spring of love and feelings can dry up the slowest. That is, when we can no longer manage to pray for anything and anyone, for them we can still manage it. We are to pray for our oikos. What does that mean? We are to desire their salvation. We therefore ask for God’s blessing for them. To tell God about them, to talk to God about them, we can always do, even when we are completely parched. So let us not abandon this same point, here is where we can always return.What helps me to reawaken enchantment?
What is the content of this very day of mine?
Do I pray for my oikos?
Do I entrust the members of my oikos to God?
What do I share in the cell group when asked what I have done for the Lord? Do I hunt for random events, or that which I tried to do for someone from my oikos in order to make Christ present to him?
Which member of my oikos would I like to serve this week and how?
Is there already someone to whom I could witness about God, explain, or invite him?

Dear brothers and sisters, we celebrate the feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The birth of the Mother of God, the birth of the Mother of Jesus Christ, the birth also of our spiritual Mother, the Virgin Mary, who was born into this world, thus was conceived in a miraculous way, since she was preserved from original sin. Yet she was born and grew, developed as an ordinary human being. For she was an ordinary human being, although preserved from sin, yet she was not God, she was not, like Jesus Christ, the Son of God. She was an ordinary human being.

We celebrate the Nativity of the Virgin Mary and right at the beginning of the Gospel we hear words about the birth of Jesus Christ. Is it a coincidence or did someone make a mistake, or is it meant to be so? On the one hand, we have no mention of the birth of the Virgin Mary in Holy Scripture, so we could hardly look for something about the birth of the Virgin Mary in the Gospel, although we have nothing written there about her birth, yet it will not be a coincidence that we hear about the birth of Jesus Christ, also because if we want to talk about man, we must talk about Jesus Christ. And if we want to talk about a true human being, about the kind of person we should be, then we must talk about Jesus Christ. That is, if we want to talk about the Virgin Mary, we talk about Jesus Christ and we come to the true human being. We come also to the Virgin Mary, that is, according to the faith of the Church, man was created in the image of God. We read this in the Book of Genesis. And this image, however, is not fully understandable without looking at Jesus Christ, because also in Holy Scripture, in the Letter to the Colossians, it is written that Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God. That means that in Him we see not only God, but also the original and pure meaning of man. If we want to talk about man, we must look at Christ, because in Him it is shown what man should be.

But we see what man really is – a man who succumbs to sin, to temptation, who succumbs to various difficulties, but such a man was not meant to be. The man as he was truly meant to be is precisely in the image of Jesus Christ. Theology often says that Christ is the archetype, that is, the model and original form of man. He is true man, not distorted by sin, but fully filled with the Holy Spirit. This means that human dignity, relationship to God, to neighbor, and to the world is shown in His life. Man finds his identity, value and vocation in Christ, in Jesus Christ. In Him we are true human beings. He, although He is the Son of God, is also true man. The Second Vatican Council in the document Gaudium et spes writes: “Only in the light of the incarnate Word does the mystery of man become clear.” Man often does not understand himself, searches for who he is, but only when he encounters Jesus does he find the truth about himself. And this is one of the main reasons why we should know Jesus Christ – so that we may know ourselves, so that we may find the meaning of life. Where are we going, what is the fulfillment of our happiness? We find this in Jesus Christ. In Jesus Christ we see what it means to love to the extreme. That is the cross. We see that to live in sonship with God, that is the relationship to our heavenly Father. And to live for others, that is the service that Jesus Christ Himself showed us. So, if we want to talk about man, we must start from Christ, because He is the norm of humanity. He is the original according to which we were created. So we are like copies that were then marked by sin, weakness and various difficulties. When we want to know man, his dignity, limits, possibilities and goals, we cannot do it without Christ. Otherwise we commit a reduction, that is, we make man only a biological being that is subject to various weaknesses. So we get to know Jesus Christ.

And therefore perhaps in today’s introduction, when we want to talk about the Virgin Mary, about her beginning, that is, about her birth, we talk about the birth of Jesus Christ. And precisely if Christ is the original and archetype of man, then Mary is the first person who allowed herself to be formed according to this original. We come to that first person who is without sin, who is not marked by sin – neither original nor personal. Although she is subject to pain and truly to the human condition, yet the Virgin Mary is the original that was formed according to Jesus Christ. In obedience and faith she said fiat and thereby became a model for every person who accepts God’s plan. She is the new Eve. If Eve once closed the way to life with her “no”, Mary with her “yes” opened it.

The Second Vatican Council says that the mystery of man becomes clear only in the light of the incarnate Word. In Mary we already see what it means to be a redeemed person and fully open to God. Christ is the archetype, that is, the original model of true man. Mary is the prototype, that is, the first model of redeemed man, who becomes according to this original.

So, dear brothers and sisters, today we celebrate the birth of the Mother of God, a beautiful model of one who was created according to the most beautiful original – Jesus Christ. We too become children of God, although we are marked by sin and difficulties. Yet our Mother, the Virgin Mary, is to lead us, to show us what obedience or perseverance in difficulties means, how to bear pain, how to always stand by Jesus Christ, how to literally perceive and accept who we are meant to be. This is the Mother of God, the Virgin Mary, who was born, who grew up as an ordinary person, who encountered difficulties and sorrows. When we call her Our Lady of Sorrows, we too become close to Jesus Christ, we become close to the Virgin Mary and we become true human beings – those who are to come one day to heaven, to salvation.

Anicius Manlius Torquatus Severinus Boethius, a Roman senator and Christian theologian and philosopher of the sixth century, said: “Love itself is a higher law.”

When the teachers of the Law and the Pharisees place the letter of the law above the spirit of love, they see things differently. They followed Jesus, looking for ways to criticize Him and destroy Him. One Sabbath day, they watched Him closely to see whether He would break the law, so that they could accuse Him of failing to observe the Sabbath. Jesus was aware of their evil intentions, and so, before healing the man with the withered hand, He wisely asked them: “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do evil, to save life or to destroy it?”

They were unable to answer the question. Jesus then healed the man, thereby showing that love is the highest law. Every law must be interpreted with merciful love and in the spirit of salvation.

We may be very good at observing laws, yet very weak when it comes to showing mercy to others. Sometimes we prefer to observe religious laws strictly, while hardly investing the same effort in fostering love within the Christian family.

Jesus teaches us that love is the highest law. If our prayer and religious practice are merely half-hearted attempts to fulfil the law, they become empty exercises. How often do we emphasize the importance of the law without considering the need for mercy and compassion?

Introduction

Conflict is not an interruption of Christian community; it is the context in which Christian love is proven. Matthew 18:15–20 gives us one of Jesus’ most practical and challenging teachings about life together. It is not merely a protocol for church discipline; it is a pathway into Christ’s presence, a school for humility, and a witness to the world that reconciliation is possible.

Jesus says:
– If your brother or sister sins against you, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen, you have gained them.
– If they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that every matter may be established.
– If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church.
– If they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a Gentile or a tax collector.
– Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven… where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.

Three Movements of Gospel Reconciliation

1) Private Courage: Speak the truth in love (verse 15)
– The first move is not public exposure but private courage. “Go… just between the two of you.”
– The goal is not to win an argument but to win a person: “you have gained them.”
– This cuts against our instincts. We prefer avoidance or public airing. Jesus calls for face-to-face, humble, timely conversation.

How to practice:
– Examine your heart first. Ask: Am I seeking their good or my vindication?
– Go promptly but prayerfully. Delay deepens division; haste without prayer harms.
– Use “I” statements, not accusations. Describe the impact, seek understanding, and ask for clarity.
– Listen as much as you speak. Sometimes what we call “sin” is misunderstanding, hurt, or difference in conscience.

2) Communal Safeguards: Invite wise witnesses (verse 16)
– If trust is thin or truth is contested, bring “one or two others.” This is not a ganging-up but a guardrail for justice, echoing Deuteronomy’s standard of witness.
– Witnesses slow down escalation, protect against slander, and help both parties hear.

How to practice:
– Choose people marked by maturity, neutrality, and confidentiality—not allies who will fuel partisanship.
– Aim for clarity, not victory. Ask: What happened? What needs repair? What repentance or restitution is fitting?
– Let Scripture, prayer, and patience guide the tone.

3) Church Accountability and Missional Mercy (verses 17–18)
– If there is hardened refusal, Jesus says, “tell it to the church”—bring the matter under the care of the community’s shepherds.
– If someone still will not listen, “treat them as a Gentile or a tax collector.” How did Jesus treat Gentiles and tax collectors? With truth and also with missional mercy—He pursued Matthew, ate with Zacchaeus, and preached good news beyond Israel’s borders.
– This final step acknowledges a break in fellowship for the sake of honesty and health, yet it never closes the door on repentance or restoration.

How to practice:
– Church leaders must move slowly, prayerfully, and transparently, avoiding both harshness and passivity.
– If separation becomes necessary, continue to pray, keep the posture of invitation, and be ready to celebrate repentance like the father in Luke 15.

Heaven’s Involvement: Binding, Loosing, and Agreement (verses 18–20)
– “Whatever you bind… loose…” speaks to the church’s responsibility to declare what accords with the gospel—naming sin as sin, forgiveness as forgiveness—under heaven’s authority, not our own whims.
– “If two of you agree on earth about anything they ask…” In context, agreement is about discerning and applying God’s will in matters of discipline and reconciliation. It is not a blank check; it is a promise of God’s nearness as we seek His heart together.
– “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” Christ’s presence is the power and promise behind every hard conversation done in His name.

Why This Matters Today

1) Because conflict is inevitable and discipleship-shaped
– We cannot form Christlike people without practicing Christlike conflict. Silence forms cowards; outrage forms cynics; honest, gentle truth-telling forms saints.

2) Because integrity protects the weak
– Private steps prevent public shaming. Communal steps prevent private bullying. Jesus’ process protects both the sinned-against and the accused.

3) Because unity is mission-critical
– Jesus ties our credibility to our love. A reconciled community is a living apologetic in an age of fracture.

Common Missteps to Avoid
– Skipping the first step: Going public on social media, triangulating through friends, or complaining to leaders before speaking to the person.
– Weaponizing the process: Using Matthew 18 to control, silence, or punish. The motive must be love; the method must be humble.
– Confusing forgiveness with the absence of boundaries: You can forgive fully and still uphold consequences where trust has been broken.
– Neglecting power dynamics or safety: In cases of abuse, criminal activity, or significant power imbalance, immediate safety, legal reporting, and third-party intervention take precedence. Matthew 18 is not a tool to force victims into unsafe encounters.

Practices for a Reconciling Community
– Cultivate a confessional culture: Normalize short accounts—regular confession and quick forgiveness. Keep small problems small.
– Train peacemakers: Equip members with skills in listening, nonviolent communication, and biblical peacemaking.
– Pray before you speak, pray while you speak, pray after you speak. Seek Jesus’ presence at every stage.
– Keep the gospel central: We forgive because we are forgiven. We pursue one another because Christ pursued us.

An Imaginative Picture
Imagine a church where, instead of whispering in hallways, two people sit beneath a cross and speak plainly, tears in their eyes, asking for forgiveness. Imagine elders who are shepherds, not judges, leading with gentleness and truth. Imagine a community where even necessary separations are bathed in prayer and marked by open doors. Imagine the world asking, “How do they do conflict like that?” and hearing us say, “Because Jesus is here.”

A Word to the Wounded
If you have been hurt by the misuse of this passage—if someone hid abuse or silenced your pain under the banner of “Matthew 18”—hear this: Jesus’ way never protects the powerful at the expense of the vulnerable. His heart is for truth, justice, and healing. Your safety matters. Your voice matters. The Good Shepherd does not shrug at wolves.

A Word to the Hardened
If your heart has grown defensive, if confession feels like defeat, remember: in Christ, repentance is not ruin but release. It is the doorway to joy. To be “gained” by your brother or sister is to be gained by Christ.

A Word to the Church
This is holy ground. Heaven bends near when the church labors in love to reconcile. Our agreements, our prayers, our hard conversations—done in His name—do not echo in an empty room. The King is in the midst.

Concrete Steps This Week
– Inventory your relationships: Is there a conversation you’ve avoided? Pray, then schedule it.
– Prepare your heart: Read Psalm 139:23–24. Ask God to search you first.
– Reach out privately: Aim for understanding and restoration.
– If needed, invite a wise third party: Seek clarity, not blame.
– Keep the door open: Even if separation is necessary, commit to pray and to welcome repentance.

Gospel Motivation
We do Matthew 18 because Jesus did Luke 15. He left the ninety-nine to seek the one. He crossed the distance toward us—privately in the incarnation, communally at the cross, and perpetually by His Spirit. He bore the cost of reconciliation so we could become ambassadors of it.

Conclusion
Matthew 18:15–20 is not a cold procedure; it is a warm path lit by the presence of Christ. Walk it with humility, courage, and hope. If we will, we may find that the hardest conversations become the holiest places—where two or three gather, and He is there.

Prayer
Lord Jesus, You are the reconciler of all things. Give us courage to speak truth in love, wisdom to listen, tenderness to forgive, and steadfastness to protect the vulnerable. Gather us in Your name, align us with Your will, and let Your presence heal our conflicts. Make us a community where heaven’s mercy is seen on earth. Amen.