When I was a kid growing up in New England, I’d occasionally go on a whale watch. Once we went out with calm waters and clear skies. But on the way back in, the sea got rough. I was just a kid, and I remember thinking we should turn left or right toward the shoreline I could see. But the pilot of the boat kept going straight — right into the waves — focused on a small, discouragingly distant lighthouse. Even when it flickered in and out of sight, he stayed the course. He knew where he was going.

This Sunday's Gospel, according to Saint John, places us in an episode close to the Jewish Passover (Jn 2:13-22), in which the Jewish people commemorated their liberation from slavery in Egypt. In this celebration, animal sacrifices were offered for the forgiveness of the sins of individuals and the community, and it was also a way of drawing closer to God.

Jesus is indignant when he sees the way the people and the merchants are behaving, and he begins to drive out the merchants who were in the temple, saying to them, “Take all these things away; do not make my Father’s house a marketplace” (Jn 2:16).

Dear Parish and School Families,

As we gather to celebrate the Feast of All Souls, my heart is drawn to the quiet moments of remembrance that this sacred day invites. In our Catholic tradition, November 2nd is set aside to honor and pray for all the faithful departed, our loved ones, our ancestors, and even those who have no one left to pray for them by name. It is a beautiful and solemn reminder that in Christ, death does not end our story, it transforms it.

One of the often repeated themes of Sacred Scripture is the special care God has for the poor, the underprivileged, and the outcasts of society. We find that theme in today’s readings. The Old Testament prophet, Sirach, says “the Lord God hears the cry of the oppressed and he is not deaf to the wail of the orphan; the prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds.” That, by the way, is sheer poetry.

Usually, the Responsorial Psalm is a kind of reflection on and a repetition of the theme of the First Reading. And sure enough, in today’s Responsorial Psalm, after each verse comes the refrain: “The Lord hears the cry of the poor.”

A woman in my parish has an adult son who has rejected his faith. She prays for him every day. She lights candles, says rosaries, and asks God again and again to bring him back. But nothing changes. Is God listening? Is He delaying? She told me once that she feels like the widow in Jesus' strange parable - crying out for justice, but hearing only silence. And yet, she said, she is at peace. I asked why. She responded, "God is already answering. I just can't see it yet."

Leprosy would make one ritually impure. It is against this background that we should understand the episodes in the first reading and in the gospel. In the first reading it was Naaman, the Syrian, and in the gospel ten unnamed lepers. The striking difference lies in the sense of gratitude shown by those who were healed. The 9 Jewish lepers healed by Jesus were more concerned about getting their healing confirmed and certified by the religious leadership, where as the only non-Jew had no such strings attached. So, he went straight back to Jesus praising God. He prostrated before him and thanked Jesus.

A priest friend of mine received a call from a family whose elderly mother was dying. Within thirty minutes, he was at her bedside, offering the consolation of the sacraments, anointing her with the oil of the sick, and commending her soul to God. She passed not long after, and for months, her family spoke of their deep gratitude for his presence. When I phoned him to commend his faithful ministry, he simply said, “I was just doing my job.”