Every saint, every parish, every generation of believers learns this truth:
faith doesn’t survive by accident — it survives by prayer.

That’s the thread running through all three readings today:
the perseverance of Moses,
the endurance of Paul,
and the persistence of the widow who refuses to give up.
It’s as if Scripture is holding up three mirrors —
and in each one, God asks: “Are you still praying, or have you grown tired?”

The first reading gives us that dramatic scene:
Israel fighting below, Moses standing on the hilltop with his arms raised to heaven.
When his hands are lifted, the battle goes well;
when they drop, the enemy advances.
Eventually, Aaron and Hur hold his arms up —
because sometimes prayer is heavy.

That’s one of the Bible’s great images of intercession.
Prayer changes battles.
Not because God needs reminders,
but because faith is tested in perseverance.

Moses’ raised hands are the Church’s raised hands —
and every parish that prays together holds the line for the world.
Here at St Edward’s, when we gather for Mass, for the Rosary, for quiet Adoration —
we’re doing exactly what Moses did:
keeping the hands of faith lifted when others grow weary.

Then St Paul, writing to Timothy, says:

“Continue in what you have learned … be constant in proclaiming the Word, in season and out of season.”

Paul knows the temptation to drift,
to let the flame go out,
to become respectable but lukewarm.
So he says, keep going.
Stay faithful when it’s easy and when it isn’t.

That’s the difference between enthusiasm and endurance.
Faith that lasts isn’t a burst of emotion; it’s a steady obedience.
It’s daily prayer, weekly worship, small acts of mercy that never make headlines but change lives quietly.

If you want to know what perseverance looks like,
you’ll find it in our parish —
in the person who still lights a candle each morning,
who keeps praying for a son or daughter far from the Church,
who forgives again though it hurts.
That’s sanctity at street level.

And then Jesus tells that famous parable:
a widow who keeps coming before an unjust judge,
asking for justice until he gives in.
It’s not that God is like the judge — quite the opposite.
It’s that prayer works in the same way perseverance works.
Every time we pray, even when we don’t see results,
we’re keeping the relationship alive.

When Jesus asks, “Will the Son of Man find faith on earth?”
He’s not doubting us — He’s challenging us.
He’s saying, Don’t give up on prayer before God gives up on you — which He never will.

We live in a world that teaches the opposite:
if something doesn’t work quickly, discard it.
If you don’t feel anything, it must be meaningless.

But prayer is not a quick fix; it’s a covenant.
Sometimes it feels like silence; sometimes it feels like battle.
But every Hail Mary whispered in faith becomes part of heaven’s music.
Every Mass offered faithfully strengthens the Church even if no one notices.
Every moment spent before the tabernacle, even tired or distracted,
anchors a soul more deeply in Christ.

That’s what Jesus means by perseverance.
Keep showing up. Keep trusting. Keep praying.

Our patron, St Edward the Confessor, lived that life of perseverance.
He was a king, but more importantly, a man of prayer.
His greatness wasn’t in politics; it was in fidelity.
He built Westminster Abbey not as a monument to himself,
but as a sign that God’s praise must always stand at the heart of a nation.

He teaches us that holiness isn’t loud — it’s steadfast.
And that’s our call here in Aylestone:
not grand gestures, but quiet faithfulness.
To keep the flame of prayer burning in our homes, our hearts, our church.

The world has its weapons — power, money, noise.
The Church has only one: prayer.
And when she forgets that, she forgets herself.

A parish that prays together becomes unshakeable.
Prayer turns a building into a temple,
a community into a communion.
It’s what keeps us united when we differ, hopeful when we struggle,
and joyful even in smallness.

If we want renewal — in our Church, in our families, in our nation —
it begins not with strategies but with prayer.
That’s how the saints began, and that’s how grace begins again.

Every Mass is the summit of all prayer.
Here, Christ prays for us and with us —
the true Moses whose arms were stretched not just upward,
but outward on the Cross.

In this sacrifice, perseverance becomes communion.
Here we are strengthened to keep going,
to be the people who do not lose heart.

So, St Edward’s, the message today is simple and strong:
Don’t give up on prayer — even when it feels dry, dull, or difficult.
Because prayer never leaves you where it found you.

If you can pray, you can begin again.
If you can pray, you are never alone.
If you can pray, you already share in Christ’s victory.