Homily – 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)

We admire big promises.
Politicians make them every election.
Companies sell them every advert.
Friends sometimes whisper them, lovers too: “I’ll never leave you, I’ll always be there.”

But we also know this:
Promises without cost are empty.

Jesus does not deal in cheap promises.
He tells the truth.
He says: “If you want to follow me, it will cost you everything. If you cling to your own life, you will lose it. If you carry the Cross, you will live.”

That is not marketing.
That is reality.

In today’s Gospel Jesus doesn’t chase popularity.
The crowd is large.
But He is not flattered by numbers.
He is interested in disciples.

And so He says the words that make us wince:
“Unless you hate father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters — even your own life — you cannot be my disciple.”

Hate?
No. He means comparison.
He means that no love, however noble, comes before the love of God.
Not family.
Not work.
Not even survival.

The scandal is this:
Christ first, or Christ not at all.

The first reading asks a haunting question:
“Who can learn the counsel of God? Who can imagine what the Lord wills?”

On our own, we cannot.
Our plans are small, timid.
Our guesses shaky.
But God sends His Spirit.
And the Spirit teaches us that what looks like foolishness — the Cross — is in fact wisdom.

The world says: protect yourself.
Christ says: give yourself away.
The world says: keep control.
Christ says: lose your life, and you will find it.

The Spirit makes sense of the Cross.
Without Him, we cling to the wrong things.

In the letter to Philemon, Paul shocks the Roman world.
A runaway slave was disposable.
But Paul says: “Receive him not as a slave, but as a brother.”

That costs.
It costs reputation.
It costs comfort.
It cuts against law, culture, habit.

The Cross always does.
It forces a choice.
Do I stand with Christ, or with the crowd?

Today is also a beginning for me.
My first Sunday as your parish priest.

I stand before you not as a manager, not as a politician, not as a fixer.
I stand as a priest — called to preach Christ, to offer His sacraments, to walk with you on the road to eternal life.

And like you, I hear this Gospel.
I too must count the cost.
Not a comfortable life, not popularity, not applause.
But Christ first.

And we must do this together.
Because renewal will not come by keeping things safe.
It will come when we dare to put Him first — above preference, above convenience, above fear.

Let me paint a picture.

A parish where Mass is not an obligation but the heartbeat of the week.
A parish where Confession is normal, not rare.
A parish where children learn the faith not as theory, but as truth.
A parish where the poor are noticed, where the lonely are welcomed, where prayer is natural.

That is not a dream.
It is what happens when Christ is first.
It is what happens when the Cross is carried.
It is what happens when a community counts the cost — and pays it.

Years ago a missionary priest in Africa said this:
“When I arrived, the church was full of decorations.
The people wanted to impress.
But the crucifix was missing.

I asked why.
They said: ‘We do not want to frighten visitors.’

I told them: if you remove the Cross, you remove Christ.
If you remove the Cross, you remove the truth.
If you remove the Cross, you remove salvation.”

That story is the Gospel today.
The Cross is not decoration.
It is the door.

So let me ask you:
What will it cost you to follow Him this year?

For some it may mean forgiving an old wound.
For others, giving time to serve.
For others, making space for prayer in a busy life.
For others, coming back to Confession after a long time.

For all of us, it will mean putting Christ before comfort.
Not easy.
Not cheap.
But real.

And here is the paradox.
Everything you give up for Christ, you will find again in Him.

Love for family purified.
Work sanctified.
Life filled with meaning.

The Cross looks like loss.
It is actually gain.
The saints knew it.
The martyrs knew it.
The Church knows it still.

So here we begin — priest and people.
A new chapter.
A new chance.
A new call.

We will make mistakes.
We will stumble.
But if we keep Christ first, we will not fail.

So let’s take His words seriously.
Let’s count the cost.
Let’s carry the Cross.
Let’s put Him first.

Brothers and sisters, the Gospel today is not comfortable.
But it is true.
So let us start here.
Let us start now.
Together.

Christ first.
The Cross embraced.
Everything else in its right place.