The problem, as we know, is that we don’t get heaven until we get to heaven. There is no human solution to all of our ills and troubles. So here’s the question we all need to sit with: can we find peace living in an imperfect world filled with imperfect people? Can you be patient and trusting with the ups and downs, the insults and injuries, even the tragedies of life, trusting that God will accompany you through them all and, in the end – somehow – draw good from them?

Readings at this Mass: Jer 20:10–13 | Rom 5:12–15 | Mt 10:26–33

Sometimes, we slip into the mindset that Catholicism is just a strict recipe: a bunch of rules we must execute perfectly to get God to love us. Many of us still imagine that God operates transactionally. But God's love doesn't react to our behavior — it precedes our very existence. He does not love us only when we finally clean up our lives; we are only capable of changing our lives because He loved us first. Let's obey God's laws not out of a fearful desire to earn His love, but out of a joyful, overflowing gratitude because we are already loved.

Readings at this Mass: Ex 19:2–6a | Rom 5:6–11 | Mt 9:36—10:8

Christ is not inviting us to excess or self-indulgence, but in making Himself bread and wine, He is blessing the ordinary and the extraordinary. Sustenance and celebration. He comes to us through symbols of the fullness of life in every stage and season. And these elements of bread and wine become not only our life-giving food, but much more. When we eat this bread and drink this wine we receive Christ’s life – the life of the Trinity that is self-giving, self-emptying love, a love that gives everything and contains all suffering and sorrow as well as all happiness and joy.

Readings at this Mass: Dt 8:2-3, 14b-16a | 1 Cor 10:16-17 | Jn 6:51-58

The way to protect our hearts from ever being broken is to seal them off and never take the risk of love; to close ourselves off. And that is the opposite of what the Trinity is. The Trinity is outpouring, complete self-giving. And that means being broken. It means taking a risk. Love means we are going to be hurt, but love doesn't care. Love is willing to take the risk. And love knows that life is better, that everything is better, when we pour ourselves out in love, even though that is painful and difficult.

Readings at this Mass: Ex 34:4b–6, 8–9 | 2 Cor 13:11–13 | Jn 3:16–18

Whatever obstacles you feel stand in the way, God has not given up on you. The Spirit placed within you is still there, waiting to be stirred into flame. But if you desire the Holy Spirit to become more alive and active in your life, then you must ask; He won't force Himself on you.

Readings at this Mass: Acts 2:1–11 | 1 Cor 12:3b–7, 12–13 | Jn 20:19–23

Today is the day when Christ wants to be united to us in a more fundamental and definitive way than we could possibly imagine. He wants to invite us to step out of all the small, partisan things we get so fixated on. The disciples were freed from all of that when they received the presence of God. They realized there is a bigger picture. This is not to say these small things don't matter or that we shouldn't care, but rather that we are part of a much bigger mission. Jesus wants to fill us with His life and His joy, and He wants us to go forth from here on fire with the love of God Himself.

Readings at this Mass: Acts 1:1–11 | Eph 1:17–23 | Mt 28:16–20

Regardless of how one experiences loneliness, abandonment, or loss, it is precisely here in today's Gospel where Jesus assures us, saying, "I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you." We are never alone; we are never orphans. God will never abandon us. He loves us and desires to guide us to a life of abundance.

Readings at this Mass: Acts 8:5–8, 14–17 | 1 Pt 3:15–18 | Jn 14:15–21

Fr. Bill speaks to the children celebrating their First Communion about how Jesus accompanies us every day, everywhere, through the Eucharist.

Readings at this Mass: Acts 6:1–7 | 1 Pt 2:4–9 | Jn 14:1–12