Homily | July 13, 2026 | God Wants Holiness More Than Offerings | (Episode 196)

There's a sentence in today's first reading that's almost shocking.

God says, I have had enough of your sacrifices.

Imagine hearing that.

The very sacrifices that God Himself commanded His people to offer, He now says He can't stand.

Why?

Had God changed His mind?

Well no.

The problem was never their worship.

The problem was that their worship had become disconnected from their lives.

They were offering sacrifices in the temple while living unjustly outside the temple.

They were praying with their lips while ignoring God with their hearts.

They were religious on the outside but unchanged on the inside.

And God says something remarkable.

Bring no more worthless offerings.

Your hands are full of blood.

Wash yourself clean.

Cease doing evil, learn to do good.

Notice what God does not ask for.

He does not ask for more sacrifices, he asks for conversion.

This is an important lesson for us as Catholics.

Sometimes we can fall into the trap of thinking that practicing our faith is simply about checking religious boxes.

I went to mass, I said my prayers, I put something in the collection basket.

Those are all good things.

In fact, they're essential, but they're not the goal.

The goal is that every mass makes me more loving, every confession makes me more humble.

Every holy communion I receive makes me more like Christ.

If my relationship with Jesus is real, then it must eventually change the way I treat my spouse, the way I engage my children, my co-workers, even the stranger I meet today.

Otherwise, Isaiah asks us a different question.

Has my religion become merely external?

One of the greatest dangers in the spiritual life is what I would call comfort Christianity.

We become familiar with holy things.

The prayers become routine, the mass becomes predictable, the gospel becomes something we hear without allowing it to challenge us.

We know the faith, but it is no longer transforming us.

God is not interested in simply making us religious.

He wants to make us holy.

Then we come to what may be one of the most misunderstood passages in the gospel.

Jesus says, I have come not to bring peace but the sword.

At first glance that sounds strange.

Isn't Jesus the Prince of Peace?

Well, of course he is.

So what does he mean?

Well, the sword Jesus speaks about is not violence, it's a decision.

The gospel always forces us to make a choice.

No one remains neutral before Christ.

Think about his own life.

Some followed him, others walked away, some worshiped him, others crucified him.

The truth has a way of dividing those who accept it from those who reject it.

That's why Jesus says that sometimes even families will be divided.

Not because Christians are looking for conflict, but because faithfulness to Christ sometimes costs us something.

Every disciple eventually reaches a moment when he must decide who comes first.

My career, my reputation, my comfort, my things, my possessions, even my family, or is it Christ?

Jesus is not asking us to love our families less.

He's asking us to love him first and above all things.

And here's the paradox.

When Christ is first, we actually become better husbands, better wives, better parents, better children, better friends.

Why?

Well, because only Christ teaches us how to love as we were created to love.

Then Jesus ends with something beautiful.

He says that even giving a cup of cold water because someone belongs to him will not go unnoticed.

I love that.

The kingdom of God is built not only through heroic acts, it is built through ordinary acts of love done with extraordinary faith.

Word of encouragement, a smile here and there, a phone call to someone who's lonely, patience with a difficult coworker, forgiving someone who doesn't deserve it, helping a neighbor in need, listening to someone who needs to be heard.

These are all small acts that can become great in the eyes of God because they're done for him with love.

So today the Lord asks each of us two questions.

First, is my faith changing the way I live, or is it simply something I just practice?

And second, if someone looked only at the way I treat other people, would they know that I have been with Christ?

Because in the end, Christianity is not measured by how many prayers we know, it is measured by how deeply those prayers have transformed our hearts.

May every Mass we attend, every confession we make, and every holy communion we receive make us just a little bit more like Jesus.

Amen.