The Catholic Journey Podcast

The Catholic Journey Podcast
Daily faith-filled reflections

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Tuesday, March 24, 2026

Palm Sunday Homily - Year A, From Hosanna to Crucify Him: The Battle Within the Human Heart

 


Palm Sunday Homily – Year A

“From Hosanna to Crucify Him: The Battle Within the Human Heart”

My brothers and sisters,

Today we begin in celebration.

Hosanna to the Son of David!

Palms raised. Voices lifted. Hope alive.

But in just moments…

The same crowd will cry out:

Crucify Him.

And if we are honest…

That shift…
That contradiction…

That is not just their story.

That is our story.

 

The Danger of Shallow Faith

The people welcomed Jesus as a king…

But not the King He actually was.

They wanted:

  • A political savior
  • A worldly victory
  • A Messiah who would fix their problems

But Jesus came to do something far deeper:

Not to conquer Rome…
But to conquer sin.
Not to take a throne…
But to take a cross.

And when He didn’t meet their expectations…

They turned on Him.

And if we’re honest…

We can feel that same tension in our own hearts.

Because we, too, can love God—
as long as He fits our plans.

And that’s where Palm Sunday becomes uncomfortable…

Because it stops being about them

And starts becoming about us.

 

In the Passion, we don’t just see what happened to Jesus.

We see a reflection of the human heart.

We see:

  • Judas… when we trade God for something lesser
  • Peter… when we deny Him out of fear
  • The crowd… when we follow the noise instead of truth
  • Pilate… when we know what’s right but lack the courage to act

And if we sit with that honestly…

We begin to realize something difficult:

We are not just observers of the Passion.

We are participants in it.

 

Because every time we choose sin…

Every time we turn away…

We are not just making a mistake—

We are stepping into that same story.

And yet… here is where the Gospel takes a turn we don’t expect.

Jesus is not a victim.

He is not caught off guard.

He is choosing this.

Every lash…
Every thorn…
Every step toward Calvary…

Is embraced.

Which means the Cross is not just something done to Him…

It is something done for us.

And that forces us to confront a deeper truth…

If this was done for us—

Then it reveals not just who Christ is…

But what kind of King we actually need.

 

The crowd wanted power.

Jesus gave them sacrificial love.

They wanted dominance.

He gave humility.

They wanted victory.

He gave redemption.

Because the greatest enemy was never Rome.

It was sin.

And the victory He came to win…

Was not temporary.

It was eternal.

And now, that same King stands before us today…

Not just to be admired—

But to be followed.

 

This Holy Week Is a Choice

Palm Sunday is not just something we remember.

It is something we must respond to.

Because this week will ask something of us.

Not just presence…

But participation.

Not just words…

But surrender.

 

And so the question becomes unavoidable…

Not “What did the crowd do?”

But:

What will I do?

Will I walk with Him?

Will I stay in the Garden when it’s uncomfortable?

Will I stand at the Cross when it costs me something?

Or will I do what the crowd did—

And disappear when things get hard?

Because it is easy to wave palms.

But it is much harder to carry a cross.

 

My brothers and sisters,

Today we cry:

“Hosanna.”

But by the end of this week…

Let us prove with our lives—

That we will never be the ones who cry:

“Crucify Him.”


Saturday, March 14, 2026

Lord, Help Me See - (John 9:1, 6–9, 13–17, 34–38)

 

Homily: “Lord, Help Me See”

(John 9:1, 6–9, 13–17, 34–38)


Several years ago, a surgeon who specialized in restoring sight told the story of a young boy who had been blind since birth.

After a delicate surgery, the day finally came when the bandages would be removed.

The room was quiet. His parents stood nearby holding their breath.

The doctor slowly removed the bandages.

For the first time in his life, light flooded into the boy’s eyes.

He blinked… looked around the room… staring at everything with amazement.

Then he turned toward his mother.

He reached out his hand, touched her face gently, and asked a question that brought everyone in the room to tears.

He said:

“Mom… is this what you look like?”

[Pause]

For the first time in his life, he could see the face of the person who had loved him since the day he was born.

Brothers and sisters,

Today’s Gospel tells the story of another man who experienced that same miracle.

But what Jesus gives him is not only sight for his eyes…

He gives sight to his soul.


In today’s Gospel we meet a man who has lived his entire life in darkness.

He has never seen the sky.
Never seen the face of a loved one.
Never seen the beauty of the world around him.

And when Jesus’ disciples see him, they ask a question many people still ask when they encounter suffering.

"Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"

They assume suffering must be someone's fault.

But Jesus shifts their perspective.

He says:

"Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him."

In other words, Jesus reveals something powerful:

Even suffering can become a place where God’s glory appears.


Then Jesus does something unusual.

He spits on the ground, makes mud with the dust of the earth, and spreads it on the man’s eyes.

At first this may seem strange.

But if we remember the story of creation in Genesis, something beautiful appears.

God created humanity from the dust of the earth.

So when Jesus takes dust and forms clay again, something deeper is happening.

The Creator is restoring His creation.

Jesus is not simply healing this man.

He is re-creating him.


But the miracle is not finished yet.

Jesus tells the man:

"Go wash in the Pool of Siloam."

And here is something we should not overlook.

The man obeys.

He cannot see Jesus.
He does not fully understand what is happening.

But he trusts.

He walks to the pool.
He washes the clay from his eyes.

And suddenly, for the first time in his life…

he sees.

Imagine that moment.

Light rushing into his eyes.
The colors of the world.
The faces of people around him.


But strangely, the miracle does not lead to celebration.

Instead, the religious leaders begin questioning him.

They interrogate him.
They challenge him.

Eventually they throw him out.

Why?

Because the miracle challenges their certainty.

They believe they already understand God.

And here the Gospel quietly reveals something powerful:

The man who was blind begins to see…
while those who claim to see become spiritually blind.

When they question him, the man simply says:

“I was blind… and now I see.”

[Pause]

Those words describe more than physical healing.

They describe spiritual awakening.

Because the greatest blindness is not failing to see the world…

it is failing to see God.


One of the greatest saints in the history of the Church once described his life before conversion as a kind of blindness.

His name was St. Augustine.

Augustine was brilliant. Educated. Successful.

But he spent years searching for happiness in everything except God.

Later he wrote these words:

"I was blind, and I loved my blindness.
You were there, Lord, but I did not see you."

Then one day he encountered Christ in a profound way.

And his eyes were finally opened.

And he wrote the famous words:

“Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new.”

Augustine realized something the blind man in today’s Gospel also discovered:

The greatest blindness is not failing to see the world —
it is failing to see God.


And the Gospel ends in a beautiful way.

After the man is rejected and thrown out, Jesus goes looking for him.

Notice that.

The world rejects him.

But Jesus seeks him out.

And when Jesus finds him, He asks a question:

"Do you believe in the Son of Man?"

The man answers with humility:

"Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?"

And Jesus says,

"You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he."

Now imagine that moment.

This man had just begun seeing the world for the first time.
He had seen people, faces, colors, and the beauty of creation.

But now something even greater happens.

For the first time in his life, he recognizes the One who healed him.

He sees not only the world around him…

he sees the Savior.

And his response is immediate:

“I do believe, Lord.”

And the Gospel tells us:

he worshiped Him.


Brothers and sisters,

That is the true miracle of this Gospel.

Not simply that a man who was blind could see the world.

But that his eyes were opened enough to recognize Christ.

Because many people today can see perfectly with their eyes…

yet they never recognize God working in their lives.

And so perhaps the most honest prayer we can offer today is very simple:

[Slow down]

Lord Jesus…

I was blind…

Help me to see.

 


Friday, March 13, 2026

Homily: “I Was Blind, and Now I See” homily on John 9:1–41


Homily: “I Was Blind, and Now I See”  Homily on John 9:1–41


In today’s Gospel, we meet a man who has been blind from birth.

He has never seen a sunrise.

Never seen his parents’ faces.

Never seen the road in front of him.

And when the disciples see him, they ask a question that many of us ask when life is hard:

“Who sinned?”

Whose fault is this?

But Jesus answers in a surprising way:

“Neither he nor his parents sinned.

This happened so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

In other words, this man’s life is not meaningless.

His suffering is not wasted.

God will use it for something greater.

Jesus then kneels down, makes clay with His saliva, and rubs it on the man’s eyes.

And He tells him, “Go wash in the pool of Siloam.”

The man could have said,

“Why mud?”

“Why walk there?”

“Why not heal me right now?”

But instead, he goes. He trusts. He obeys.

And when he washes…he can see.

That moment must have been overwhelming.

The first thing his eyes ever saw was light.

But what follows is even more remarkable.

Instead of joy, the man faces questioning.

Instead of praise, he faces doubt.

Instead of celebration, he faces rejection.

The Pharisees say, “This man cannot be from God.”

They examine him again and again.
They pressure him.
They threaten him.

But listen to his simple faith:

“All I know is this:

I was blind, and now I see.”

He doesn’t argue theology.

He doesn’t give a lecture.

He gives a witness.

That is how faith grows: not through winning arguments,

but through telling the truth of what God has done for us.

And when they throw him out of the synagogue,

Jesus goes to find him.

He does not leave him alone.

He seeks him out.

And when Jesus asks,

“Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

the man says,

“Lord, I believe,” and he worships Him.

This Gospel shows us something beautiful:

the man moves from darkness, to sight…
Then to faith…
and then to worship.

That is the journey of every Christian life.

Let me share that once again.

the man moves from darkness, to sight…
Then to faith…
and then to worship.

 


Let me share a short story to help us understand a little more deeply.

There was a little girl who was born with very poor eyesight.

She could not read books like the other children.

She could not see faces clearly.

She often bumped into things.

One day her mother asked her,

“Does it make you sad that you can’t see like the other kids?”

The girl thought for a moment and said,

“Sometimes… but God must have a reason.”

Years later, she was able to have a very special surgery.

And after the bandages were removed,

for the first time in her life, she saw clearly.

She began to cry.

Her mother said,

“Why are you crying? You can see now!”

And the girl answered,

“I think God wanted me to learn how to trust Him before I learned how to see.”

“I think God wanted me to learn how to trust Him before I learned how to see.”

 

Wow! That is wisdom, and from such a young soul.

And that is exactly what the blind man in the Gospel learned.

Before he ever saw Jesus’ face, he trusted Jesus’ voice.

Before he ever worshiped Him, he obeyed Him.

And that is why his healing becomes a miracle of the soul,
not just of the eyes.


Families, this Gospel speaks to us today because many of us can see physically… but we struggle to see spiritually.

We see our problems clearly.
We see our worries clearly.
We see the brokenness of the world clearly.

But do we see God at work?

Do we see His mercy?
Do we see His hand guiding us?
Do we see His presence in our homes?

The Pharisees see the miracle… but refuse to believe.

Why?

Because they already think they know everything.

But the blind man is humble.

He is open.

He is willing to be taught.

And that makes all the difference.

Children, this Gospel teaches you something important:
Jesus is not just someone you learn about.
He is someone you follow.

Parents and grandparents,
this Gospel reminds us that the most powerful faith we pass on
is not perfect knowledge… but lived trust.

The blind man does not say,

“I understand everything.”

He says,

“I was blind, and now I see.”

That is faith.

Faith does not mean life is easy.

It means life has light.

Faith does not mean there is no suffering.

It means suffering has meaning.

Faith does not mean we never struggle.

It means we never struggle alone.


And look at how this Gospel ends.

The man is cast out.

He loses his place in the community.

But Jesus finds him.

When the world pushes him away, Jesus pulls him close.

That is our hope.

When we are confused, Jesus finds us.

When we are afraid, Jesus finds us.

When we are rejected, Jesus finds us.

And He asks us the same question He asked that man:

“Do you believe?”

Not: “Do you understand everything?”

Not: “Have you figured it all out?”

But: “Do you trust Me?”

And when the man answers yes, he worships Jesus.

Because the goal of healing is not comfort.

The goal of healing is communion with God.

 

Let us end in prayer:

Lord, open our eyes.

Help us see Your hand in our lives.

Help us see Your love in our families.

Help us see Your grace even in our trials.

And when we do not understand,

let us still say with the man born blind:

“Lord, I believe.”

And may that faith become light not only for us,

but for our children,

and especially for

a world still searching for sight.

Amen