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”.
