Sunday and Daily Mass Homilies by Fr. Aristotle

Saturday Mass. 5.16.26. In this homily, I reflect on the spiritual danger of thinking we already know enough about God. Drawing from the story of Apollos in Acts and Jesus' promise of the Holy Spirit in the Gospel, I explore how pride and ego close us off from the fullness of what God wants to reveal to us — and how a posture of humility opens us to so much more.

Wednesday Mass. 5.13.26. In this homily, I reflect on the message of Fatima and what it means to offer our struggles to God. Every trial, every temptation, every difficult thought — none of it is wasted. Mary's message is urgent and simple: pray, sacrifice, and trust that God is using your life to help the world. I also draw from Sunday's Gospel, where Jesus promises the Holy Spirit to guide us in...

Monday Mass. 5.11.26. In this homily, I reflect on Lydia from Acts 16 — a woman who was already open to God, and because she was listening, she received even more grace. The invitation is simple: stay, listen, and surrender. When we stop demanding and start receiving, grace doesn't stop flowing.

Sunday Mass. 5.10.26. In this homily, I reflect on the Holy Spirit as God who carries us when life feels too heavy to bear alone.

Friday Mass. 5.08.26. In this homily, I reflect on the two ways we come to God — through fear or through love — and how Jesus calls us not slaves, but friends. Drawing from John 15, I share a personal moment from my time as a priest that changed how I understood God's presence in my weakness. If you've ever felt like God is waiting to punish you, this one is for you.

Wednesday Mass. 5.06.26. We live in an individualistic age where it's easy to follow Jesus on our own terms. In this homily, I share why the Church is not a obstacle to faith, but the very structure God uses to bring us grace.

Tuesday Mass. 5.05.26. Hardships are part of following Christ — not a sign that God has abandoned you. Reflecting on St. Paul's words and Jesus' promise of peace, we explore why trials are necessary.

Monday Mass. 5.04.26. In this homily, I reflect on why God doesn't simply reveal Himself to the whole world — and why love and humility are the only doors He will walk through. Drawing from John 14, I explore how knowing Jesus is a lifelong journey, not a single moment.

Sunday Mass. 5.03.26. A homily on John 14 — Jesus as the way, the truth, and the life. I talk about heaven, the sacraments, and why keeping eternity in view changes how we live today.

Friday School Mass. 5.01.26. A homily on John 14 — Jesus tells his disciples "I am the way, the truth, and the life." I reflect on why heaven is not just a comforting idea but something worth pursuing, and why Jesus himself is the only path to get there.

Wednesday Mass. 4.29.26. In today's homily, I reflect on one of the most powerful lines in Acts: "The word of God continued to spread and grow" — written right after the death of King Herod, the most powerful man of his time. No external force, no opposition, nothing can stop the Church when God is with it. I also draw from the life of Saint Catherine of Siena and her concept of the "inner cell" —...

Tuesday Mass. 4.28.26. In today's homily, I reflect on what it truly means to be a Christian—not just going to Mass, but having a real, living relationship with Jesus. Drawing from the first time followers of Christ were called "Christians" in Acts, and from Jesus' words in John 10, I ask the question: if you were put on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence? Jesus says His s...

Monday Mass. 4.27.26. In this homily, I reflect on what it truly means that Jesus is the Good Shepherd — not that He removes every trial, but that He's already present in the middle of them. Drawing from a personal story early in my priesthood and the example of Abraham's radical trust, I explore why God doesn't always reveal the full plan, and why that's actually the point. If you've been waiting...

Sunday Mass. 4.26.26. In this homily, I reflect on what it means to truly hear God's voice — and why so many of us struggle with it. God wants to speak to you, but that kind of relationship requires time, silence, and asking. I also share how knowing your faith and Scripture helps you discern God's voice from all the noise. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, and He wants to lead you — one step at a time.

Tuesday Mass. 4.21.26. A homily on John 6 and the Bread of Life. Jesus feeds the five thousand, but the crowd comes back looking for more food — missing the miracle right in front of them. We do the same. God is constantly showing us what we need, and every day at Mass He gives us Himself. The Eucharist is the answer to every hunger.

Monday Mass. 4.20.26. In this homily, I reflect on St. Stephen, the first martyr, and what it means to face opposition as a disciple of Jesus. Just as Stephen went through everything Christ went through, we too are called to be fashioned to Christ — even when the world pushes back. When people reject the gospel, it's not us they're rejecting. It's God. The Easter message is two thousand years old...

Tuesday Mass. 4.14.26. In this homily, I invite us to remember that the very same Holy Spirit who transformed the fearful, fragile disciples into a bold, generous early Church is alive and working on this altar and in our lives today. Looking at Jesus’ late–night conversation with Nicodemus, we explore what it means to be “born from above”: to rise above merely human thinking, to trust that God al...

Monday Mass. 4.13.26. A homily on Acts 4 and John 3 — how the early church prayed not to remove their trials, but for boldness to move through them, and what it means to be born from above and live in the Spirit today.

Divine Mercy Sunday. 4.12.26. In this homily, I reflect on Thomas's struggle to believe and how Jesus appears with his wounds — not to shame us, but to show us how much he loves us. On Divine Mercy Sunday, no sin is too big, no past too broken. Come as you are.

Saturday Mass. 4.11.26. In this homily, I reflect on the dramatic transformation of Peter — the same man who fled in fear on Good Friday now stands boldly before the Sanhedrin. What changed? The Holy Spirit. As we journey through the Easter season, I invite you to ask yourself: the Spirit is already in you — are you nurturing it?

Wednesday Mass. 4.08.26. Forty adults showed up last night for their first confirmation class — and they all said the same thing: they just want to be close to God. In this homily, I reflect on the power of the Holy Spirit that transformed frightened disciples into bold witnesses. That same power is in you. Easter isn't over — it's just beginning.

Tuesday Mass. 4.07.26. The tomb is empty — and that changes everything. In this homily, I reflect on what Easter truly means in the middle of real suffering, real tears, and real loss. Joy and sorrow can exist at the same time, and Easter doesn't take away our trials — it transforms them. The power that raised Jesus from the dead is already in you. Don't live like Easter didn't happen.

Wednesday Mass. 4.01.26. I reflect on how easily we forget the price Jesus paid for us — and how often we fall into the trap of thinking God owes us something. The truth is, we were owed nothing. Yet Jesus gave everything. I also reflect on the betrayal of Judas and how each of us, in our own way, has betrayed Christ. This Holy Week, let's stop focusing on what we're going through and fix our eyes...

Tuesday Mass. 3.31.26. In this homily for Tuesday of Holy Week, I reflect on one of the deepest human fears — rejection and betrayal — and how Jesus faced it head-on. He knew every person who would betray him, including Judas and Peter, and he came anyway. That's the heart of Holy Week. Jesus takes our human weakness, our failures, our sin, and transforms it into redemption. That's what makes this...

Monday Mass. 3.30.26. In this homily, I reflect on a conversation with a young adult who was deeply disturbed by the Passion — asking why Jesus begged the Father to take the cup, and why everyone left him. As we enter Holy Week, I invite you to slow down, resist the rush to Easter Sunday, and sit with what our Lord freely chose to endure — for you and for me.