Today’s readings are full of hope.
After all the warnings of the prophet Amos, after all the failures and infidelities of God’s people, the book ends with a promise.
A promise of restoration.
A promise that God has not finished with His people.
A promise that grace is greater than sin.
The Lord says:
“I will restore the fortunes of my people.”
The ruined cities will be rebuilt.
The vineyards will flourish.
The harvest will return.
The people will be planted securely in the land.
The message is simple.
God is not merely interested in punishing.
God wants to heal.
God wants to restore.
God wants to bring life where there has been loss.
That same theme appears in the Gospel.
People ask Jesus why His disciples do not fast like the disciples of John.
And Jesus gives an unexpected answer.
“Surely the bridegroom’s attendants would never think of mourning as long as the bridegroom is still with them?”
The image is beautiful.
Jesus compares Himself to a bridegroom at a wedding feast.
Not a judge arriving to condemn.
Not a tax collector arriving to demand payment.
A bridegroom.
A cause for joy.
A reason for celebration.
Because in Christ something new has begun.
Then He gives two little parables.
You do not sew a patch of new cloth onto an old cloak.
You do not put new wine into old wineskins.
The old will tear.
The skins will burst.
What is He saying?
The coming of Christ changes everything.
God is doing something new.
The Kingdom has arrived.
The old way of thinking is not enough.
Hearts must be renewed.
Lives must be renewed.
People must be renewed.
That brings us beautifully to St Elizabeth of Portugal.
Because she was someone who allowed God to do something new in her life.
Elizabeth could easily have become bitter.
She was married to a king who was repeatedly unfaithful.
She lived amid political intrigue, family disputes, and endless conflicts.
She had every reason to become hard-hearted.
Every reason to become cynical.
Every reason to retreat into resentment.
Instead she chose charity.
She cared for the poor.
She founded hospitals and orphanages.
She endured suffering with patience.
She educated children who were not even her own.
And throughout it all she remained faithful to prayer.
What is remarkable is that she did all this while remaining in the middle of public life.
We sometimes imagine that holiness is easier for people who escape the world.
Monks.
Nuns.
Hermits.
Yet Elizabeth became a saint while living in a royal court, surrounded by politics, family tensions, and public responsibilities.
That should encourage all of us.
Because most of us do not live in monasteries.
We live in families.
We work in offices.
We care for children.
We deal with difficult people.
We carry responsibilities.
So did St Elizabeth.
And she became holy there.
Perhaps the most striking part of her life came towards the end.
Her son went to war against the King of Castile.
Elizabeth was elderly by then.
She could have stayed safely at home.
She could have said it was somebody else’s problem.
Instead she travelled to the battlefield to make peace.
And she succeeded.
But the effort cost her life.
That tells us something important.
Peacemaking is not passive.
It is often costly.
It requires courage.
Humility.
Perseverance.
It requires people willing to step into conflict rather than simply complain about it.
And that is exactly what Christ does for us.
Humanity had gone to war with God through sin.
We had become estranged.
Divided.
Lost.
Christ comes as the peacemaker.
The bridge.
The reconciliation between God and man.
That is why the Gospel is full of joy.
The bridegroom has arrived.
The time of restoration has begun.
The new wine is flowing.
The Kingdom is at hand.
The question is whether we are willing to become new wineskins.
Whether we will allow Christ to renew our hearts.
To soften what has become hard.
To heal what has become wounded.
To restore what has become broken.
St Elizabeth shows us what that renewal looks like in practice.
Faithfulness in difficult circumstances.
Prayer in the midst of responsibility.
Charity towards those who have hurt us.
Patience with difficult people.
And a willingness to become instruments of peace.
The world often assumes that power changes the world.
Elizabeth teaches us that holiness changes the world.
The world remembers kings for their victories.
The Church remembers Elizabeth for her charity.
The world remembers rulers for the battles they fought.
The Church remembers Elizabeth for the peace she made.
And so today we ask her prayers.
That Christ may make our hearts new.
That He may teach us patience when we are wounded.
Charity when we are tempted to bitterness.
Peace when we are surrounded by conflict.
And that, like St Elizabeth, we may allow the Lord to restore what is broken and make all things new.
St. Mary's, St. John Bosco and St. Edward's 