Homily: “Faithful, Ready, and Catholic”

Brothers and sisters,

Jesus tells us plainly: “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit.” The Lord is coming. We do not know the day or the hour.

This is meant to wake us from spiritual drowsiness. The whole liturgy today has one theme: readiness born of faith.

Our first reading from the Book of Wisdom recalls the night of the Passover. God’s people waited in faith for His deliverance. They trusted His promise even when nothing seemed to be happening.

That is what faith looks like: acting now because of what God has said, even before you see the results. The Israelites stayed awake that night, ready to move as soon as God acted.

Our second reading, from Hebrews, expands that vision. Abraham left his homeland without knowing where he was going — simply because God told him to. Sarah believed she would bear a child, not because it seemed possible, but because God had promised it.

Faith is not vague optimism. It is taking God at His word and acting accordingly.

As Catholics, faith is not just a feeling — it is a supernatural virtue infused into our souls at baptism. It is faith that clings to God’s Word, trusts His Church, and obeys His commands.

Faith makes us pilgrims. This world is not our final home. Like Abraham, we live in tents — temporary dwellings — because our true homeland is heaven.

And this faith must be living and active. As St. James tells us, “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). Jesus says the faithful servant is not just the one who believes the master exists, but the one who is found doing his will when he returns.

In the Gospel, Jesus paints the picture of servants with their belts fastened and lamps burning. In biblical times, to “gird your loins” meant to tuck up your long robe so you could move quickly — you were ready to work or to travel.

Spiritually, it means living in such a way that you are ready to move when the Lord calls — whether that is to an unexpected act of charity, a sudden sacrifice, or even the moment of death.

And the lamps? In Catholic tradition, the lamp often represents the light of faith, nourished by the oil of charity. Without charity, faith dies out. Without faith, charity has no direction.

Jesus’ warning is especially pointed for us who are Catholic.

Why? Because we have been given so much:

• The fullness of revealed truth in Scripture and Tradition.
• The teaching authority of the Church to guide us without error in matters of faith and morals.
• The seven sacraments — visible channels of invisible grace.
• The Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
• The communion of saints to intercede for us.
• The Motherhood of Mary to protect and guide us.

We cannot plead ignorance. As St. John Chrysostom said: “Hell is paved not with the sins of the ignorant — but with the indifference of the instructed.”

The more we have been given, the more will be required of us. This reminds us that grace is never meant to be hoarded — it is given so that we may live and share the Gospel.

So what does it mean to be “ready” in the Catholic life?

It is not obsessively calculating the “end times” or waiting for special signs. Readiness is a state of grace — being reconciled with God, free of mortal sin, and walking in friendship with Christ.

It looks like:

• Regular Confession, so that your soul is clean and your conscience is clear.
• Frequent Holy Communion, received with devotion.
• Daily prayer, not just when trouble comes.
• Obedience to God’s commandments, even when the world mocks them.
• Works of mercy, so that your faith bears visible fruit.
• Detachment from possessions, so that if the Lord called you tonight, you wouldn’t cling to what you leave behind.

Jesus warns of the servant who says, “My master is delayed.” This is the danger of presumption — thinking we can put off conversion until tomorrow.

Many souls are lost not because they made a conscious choice to reject God, but because they never got around to choosing Him. They drifted. They delayed. They thought they had more time.

The Church, in her wisdom, calls us to live each day as if it could be our last — not in panic, but in peace. If you are in friendship with Christ today, then you are ready for Him whenever He comes.

For us, that call might mean:

• Letting go of sin we’ve grown comfortable with.
• Giving up excuses for why we can’t pray, serve, or forgive.
• Trusting God with our future even when it’s uncertain.

Readiness has three marks in Catholic life:

• Faith in what the Church teaches – No picking and choosing.
• Hope rooted in the promises of God – No despair, no presumption.
• Charity lived out in obedience – Not just sentiment, but holiness.

The saints lived with this readiness.

St. Francis of Assisi, when asked what he would do if he knew he would die that day, said, “I would keep hoeing my garden.” Why? Because he was already doing what God had asked of him.

St. Thérèse of Lisieux said, “I am not afraid to die — I am even happy — because I have tried to live each moment for God.”

And St. Maximilian Kolbe, whose memorial we keep this week, was ready because he had already given his life to Mary and to Christ. When the moment came in Auschwitz to lay down his life for another, he didn’t hesitate — he was ready.

So here is the question for us today:

If Christ came for you tonight — would He find you ready?

Not perfect. Not sinless. But striving, repenting, living in grace.

This week, take one concrete step toward readiness:

• If you’ve been away from Confession — go.
• If you’ve been lazy in prayer — set aside a fixed time daily.
• If there’s a sin you’ve excused — repent and seek help to overcome it.
• If you’ve been neglecting the poor — find someone to serve.

Readiness is not complicated — it is simply living as though Christ is real, Heaven is real, and eternity is near.

Jesus says: “Blessed is that servant whom the master finds at work when he arrives.”

The master is coming — for each of us — at an hour we do not expect.

We, the Catholic faithful, have been entrusted with the truth, the sacraments, and the hope of glory. Let’s live as though we believe it.

Because when the final moment comes — whether in a century or in the next heartbeat — there will be no time to prepare. Only those already ready will enter the joy of the Master.

So here is the question the Gospel leaves us with:

If the Master came tonight —
and stood at the door —
would He find you ready?

Ready not just in word, but in grace.
Ready not just with faith, but with love.
Ready not just with Catholic identity, but with Catholic fidelity.

The Passover lamb is slain. The covenant is sealed. The table is set.

So, dear friends, let’s be found ready —
with lamps burning, hearts believing, sins confessed,
and eyes fixed on the Master who is coming.

And when He comes, may He find us not indifferent, but faithful.
Not drifting, but dressed for action.
Not empty-handed, but holding the treasure that lasts forever.