Gospel Commentary for August 10, 2025

Be ready, because the Son of Man will come at the hour you least expect.

Dear brothers and sisters, peace and all good.

Maybe some of you have been to daily Mass this past week. If you haven’t, I recommend it. You can go to Mass on weekdays too. It’s been scientifically proven that it doesn’t hurt anyone (if your personal situation allows it), and sometimes it helps us disconnect from the rush and stress of daily life. In any case, I’d like to give you a short summary of this past week’s readings.

We started well, celebrating the memorial of St. John Mary Vianney, the holy Curé of Ars, a great example of pastoral dedication. Then came the feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of Saint Mary Major, the first basilica in the West built in honor of Mary, to celebrate her divine motherhood.

Then came the Transfiguration. Jesus is revealed as the Christ, shining in the glory of God, and the disciples are so happy there that they don’t want to go back to their normal life. After that, Peter makes his profession of faith: “You are the Messiah.” But soon after, trouble starts. Peter tells Jesus not to talk about death and the cross, as if it were nonsense. Jesus gets upset and calls him Satan, because he’s thinking like people do, not like God.

Then we remembered a holy martyr: Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, formerly Edith Stein. She was a Jewish convert, a philosopher, a Christian, a Carmelite, and a martyr (she died in the gas chamber at Auschwitz). She always searched for the truth—first in philosophy, then in the Gospel and in the Christian life. She died for her faith.

Next came Saint Dominic, founder of the Dominicans. He gave his life to defend the message of Christ against the heresies of the 12th century. The Gospel that day spoke about the power of a woman’s faith: the Syrophoenician woman who begged Jesus to heal her daughter, even though she wasn’t from Israel. At first, Jesus says no—but because of her faith, He says yes.

And today, if it weren’t Sunday, we would be celebrating Saint Lawrence, deacon and martyr—another example of faith unto death, burned alive on a grill. But he endured the pain for his faith.

Why am I telling you all this? Because in a Christian’s life, there are beautiful moments—weddings, joyful Eucharistic celebrations, communions, baptisms… In those times, it’s not hard to live our faith. We enjoy it without asking many questions.

But then come the hard moments: a death in the family, an illness, problems at work or at home, difficulties in our relationships, a terrorist attack or natural disaster—earthquakes, hurricanes, fires… And suddenly, being a Christian is not so easy. It’s in those dark moments when we can truly recognize a Christian, like we recognize a true friend. We have many lights that can brighten our darkness. Teresa Benedicta, Lawrence, Dominic… They are candles lit by the candle of Christ, who is our main light.

Most of us won’t be asked to die for our faith. We live in a time of tolerance—at least here in Spain. But we are called to pay attention every day and try to live more and better as Christians. That’s why today’s readings are so important.

Saint Paul gives us a definition of faith: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen.” He reminds us of what Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Jacob achieved by faith. Despite all difficulties, they believed in God’s promise. They were ready to feel His presence, even in their darkest moments.

To be ready means to have our spiritual accounts in order. God doesn’t care about our bank accounts. What truly matters is who we are, not what we have. And in that, young and old, lay people and religious, we can all choose. We can stay where we are, or we can try—little by little—to become better. A smile when greeting family, not yelling at work, being understanding with others, thinking twice before getting angry, reviewing how generous we are, how much we share, looking at our relationship with God, how often we go to the sacraments, especially the Eucharist and Reconciliation…

Peter, who was a bit impulsive, asks Jesus if He said that just for them, the disciples, or for everyone. Maybe he felt a bit uncomfortable. But Peter kept listening to Jesus, even when he didn’t understand. We too have heard Jesus’ words. We can act like they don’t apply to us—or we can start today to become holier. And being holier means being closer to God, which means being happier.

The image of harsh punishment at the end of today’s Gospel reflects the reality in Jesus’ time, when disobedient servants were often punished severely. Some leaders, those responsible for the good of all, have abused their power and failed in their duty. Today we know that God doesn’t punish anyone like that. The image simply reminds us how serious it is when leaders, who know God’s will better than others, behave badly. Their responsibility is greater.

We, too, have a responsibility. We know the way. We don’t have to do huge things. Just take one small step to start. Christ and the saints light the way for us. And Mary, our Mother, prays for us. Let’s not forget—we don’t know the day or the hour. Tomorrow may be too late. Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Where is yours? Are we ready to start walking, to change something in our lives, if needed?

Your brother in faith,