October 18th, 2026 – Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Brothers and sisters,
I would like to refresh our minds with the beautiful divine attributes taught by our Catechism— specifically the six I had to memorize for my First Holy Communion: God is omnipresent (present everywhere), self-sufficient (exists of Himself), eternal (has no beginning or end), an infinite spirit (has no physical body), infinitely good and perfect, and all-powerful (the ultimate cause and creator of all things).
Let us begin with the first: God’s omnipresence.
Our faith teaches that God is present in all times and places. If God is everywhere, why do we not see Him? Theologians describe two key aspects of God: transcendence and immanence.
We understand God’s transcendent nature as being beyond human understanding, imagination, or comprehension. God is infinite; therefore, we cannot define or contain Him—much like trying to name the highest number. No matter how high we count, numbers are infinite, and there is always one more.
A powerful example comes from the prophet Isaiah. After his vision of the Lord, he exclaimed, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts!” This declaration points to the ultimate “otherness” of God. Here, “holy” means far more than pure and spotless; early Christian theologians and mystics called God ineffable—beyond words or description. Whatever we imagine about God will always fall short of the divine reality.
The second aspect is that God is immanent—God is here and now. Jesus revealed this truth when He told Philip, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” God’s presence was standing right before him; Jesus is the fullness of God’s revelation. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” The purer our hearts become—a lifelong journey—the clearer we perceive God’s presence. The Desert Fathers and Mothers withdrew into the desert precisely to seek this purity of heart, believing it would allow them to truly see God.
The Italian Trappist writer Carlo Carretto, who lived in the Sahara Desert, offers a beautiful image of why we often fail to see God. He explains it is not because God is absent, but because God is so present that we cannot perceive Him. He compares it to a baby in its mother’s womb: the mother completely surrounds, nurtures, and sustains the child, yet the baby cannot see her or imagine her as separate. The baby must be born to recognize the mother. In the same way, God so completely envelops us that we cannot fully grasp or image Him while we remain within His presence.
Stay tuned as we continue reflecting on how God reveals Himself to us—in us and all around us.
Fr. Arul Ponnaiyan
October 11th, 2026 – Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
“Presentation is 95%”
(Advice to me when I was a waiter at a restaurant)
Dear Friends,
This Sunday, Holy Scripture in the prophet Isaiah connects the kingdom of God to a sumptuous banquet with “rich food and choice wines, rich food and pure, choice wines.” And through the Gospel of St. Matthew, “The Kingdom of Heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son.”
As a former waiter (not exactly a very good one!) I know what it is like not only to serve food, but to see people share the table. It seems to me that there is a difference between merely eating, and truly dining. One is functional– let’s eat fast because we are starving. The other is relational– let’s dine because the food is a great excuse for us to spend time together, and the longer we take, the better it is because love is the primary ingredient.
It is obvious God wants us to dine, and not merely eat, when it comes to our faith life. He feeds us with the Bread of Life and saves us with the Cup of Salvation, and we as the Church are called to give more than 95% in our presentation. We are called to make sure we live in such a way that when folks see us, they see the chance to be truly nourished. Our banquet of love, served with warm-hearted, kind service and sacrifice, can truly change the world, feeding the people we see right next to us, and with enough love to feed anyone starving in our troubled world, here and across the miles. The Banquet is ready!
Bon appetit, buon appetito, buen provecho, guten appetit, smacznego, benedicite!
Dine well!
Fr. Tim
October 4th, 2026 – Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Brothers and sisters, I would like to share a beautiful message Fr. Raphael Rodriguez delivered on the World Day of Migrants and Refugees at the Cathedral Church on Sunday, September 27th, 2026.
Here it is: When I was ordained, the mission entrusted to me was to bring Christ to others, specially sacramentally. Twenty-two years later, I have realized something wonderfully humbling:Christ had been waiting for me in the faces of migrants—in their smiles and their tears, in their laughter and their cries, in their losses and their achievements, in their resilience and in their enduring faith. The Lord has welcomed me in so many different peoples, faces, languages, and cultures—each beautiful and mysterious.
I am also a migrant. I was born and raised in Venezuela—a nation of immense wealth and beauty—but over the past three decades, a nation that has suffered under corrupt leadership, international economic sanctions, and the systematic plundering of its natural wealth; causing the largest displacement in the history of Latin America. A story that, unfortunately, repeats itself too often in many places around the world, affecting millions of people.The people I have served here in the Archdiocese of Milwaukee, and indeed every one of us gathered here today—shares one essential truth: we are all created in the image of God. We are God’s beloved children.
Pope Leo XIV has chosen the theme, “Even just one of these children.” It reminds us that migration is never merely about numbers. It is about faces, names, stories, families; above all, about children. Migration is not a footnote in salvation history. It is one of the ways God writes salvation history. Abraham, Moses, Ruth. the Babylonian exile, the Holy Family, Pentecost, St. Paul, and Church members of every generation. Their stories remind us that migrants are not strangers in God’s plans. All peoples, including foreigners, become part of the people of God and of the history of salvation. That history of salvation tells us that God revealed Himself to us in the humility of a migrant, displaced and refugee family; the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Where the child Jesus, the most vulnerable member of the family, experienced the fear, uncertainty, and danger of being forced to leave home.
Let us for a moment imagine: Joseph waking in the middle of the night. Mary quickly gathering whatever she could carry. Jesus, the child, asleep. The long journey to Egypt, on foot. Then, at the border, the harassment of smugglers. No passports, no visas, no GPS, only faith.
The Church of Milwaukee has always been a church of migrants and refugees, just like the United States of America has. The Church of Milwaukee has always been renewed by newcomers, building spiritual bridges along the way. But bridges are not built from one side of the river. Both sides are built at the same time.
Everyone is called to walk toward the middle. That is where Christ is waiting. Christ waits for us in the middle of his loving heart, at the Holy Eucharist. Because there, our differences no longer divide us. Around the altar, we become one Body in Christ. As Eucharistic people, Pope Leo XIV encourages us, “to promote the integration of refugees and migrants and to value them as full members of the ecclesial family, preventing the solitude, isolation and rejection that not infrequently also affect the children of migrants; and to promote opportunities for encounter and integration in which local young people and young migrants can support each other along a path of mutual respect, solidarity and friendship”.
