The preaching of our Lord in the Gospel of St. Matthew—the Beatitudes, the Sermon on the Mount, the parables—has come to a close. Now the preacher embraces his passion.

Nothing is more certain than death. Yet normally, nothing is more hidden from our view. We do most everything that we can to not look death in the face.

Horrible things happen in the dark when people are afraid. We must now give witness. If we live in the light, it should be evident. Even in a time of virus.

The call of Christ can appear as one more demand upon your time and energy.

Lord, why do you grant me the grace to see you so clearly, yet deny this same gift to the one whom I so desperately love?

We are always tempted to make faith into something that we handle, not a way by which we surrender.

How perfectly the prophet Joel summons us to Lent with those two adverbs: “Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart.”

If we give the signal—our readiness, our openness—God lifts us up.

If only there were an app that alerted us every time that Christ was near, every time that Christ wanted us to let up on our worthwhile labors long enough to look at someone we love.

The sermon is so simple. However dark your world, imitate me and all will be well. The question it poses is likewise quite stark: Do we believe him enough to rally?