St Paul and the Lord Jesus both speak today about one thing:
authentic faith.
Not the kind that talks well, but the kind that obeys.
Not the kind that builds monuments, but the kind that bears fruit.

In Romans, Paul says something revolutionary:

“The justice of God has been manifested apart from the law…
through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.”

He isn’t rejecting the law — he’s revealing its fulfilment.
The Law was the map.
Christ is the destination.
The commandments showed the way;
the Cross opened the door.

No one is justified by keeping rules,
but by receiving grace.
We can’t earn heaven; we inherit it through Christ.

That’s why Paul says,

“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
We all need mercy — priests, people, everyone.
And the good news is: that mercy has a name.
Jesus Christ, who died for our sins and rose for our life.

But faith isn’t a get-out clause.
It’s not the lazy man’s excuse.
Faith that saves is faith that obeys.

Paul isn’t setting grace against good works.
He’s saying good works come alive only in grace.
Without grace, they’re pride.
With grace, they’re love.

The Catechism says:

“Faith without works is dead,
and works without faith are empty.”

That’s the Catholic balance —
we are saved by grace through faith,
but grace produces charity,
and charity bears fruit in obedience.

Then in the Gospel, Jesus turns to the Pharisees and says:

“Woe to you who build the tombs of the prophets,
while your fathers killed them.”

They built monuments to holiness
but ignored the living Word of God in front of them.
They honoured the prophets with stone,
but crucified the Truth in flesh.

It’s the danger of every age —
religion without repentance,
the appearance of piety without the heart of obedience.

You can polish the tombs of the saints,
and still ignore the God who calls you to conversion today.

Our Lord’s words are sharp because His love is real.
He hates hypocrisy because it blinds souls.
It uses religion as camouflage for pride.

Before we judge the Pharisees, we should look in the mirror.
How often do we build our own little monuments —
to our opinions, our habits, our grudges —
and then call them religion?

We can talk beautifully about faith
while neglecting confession,
or receiving the Eucharist without reverence.
We can defend the Church in public
but forget to pray in private.

True faith is not performance.
It’s daily conversion — the steady, humble obedience
that lets grace shape us from within.

At this altar, Paul’s words come alive.
Here, grace isn’t an idea — it’s reality.
The same Jesus who justified sinners on the Cross
offers Himself again for us in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

And we, unworthy though we are,
come forward in faith,
not trusting in our own merits,
but in His mercy.

That’s why we say before Communion:

“Lord, I am not worthy.”

That’s not false humility — it’s faith made real.
It’s the heart saying,
“I bring nothing but sin,
and You give me everything — grace, mercy, life.”

This is what St Paul meant by being “justified freely by His grace.”
The Cross once, the Mass now, the glory to come —
all are one act of mercy flowing from the same Heart.

So, two voices meet today:
Paul says, “Faith saves.”
Jesus says, “Faith must be real.”

Together they say:
Believe deeply. Live faithfully.
Let your faith be more than words — let it become obedience, gratitude, love.

And when you come to this altar,
remember: the Judge who rebuked hypocrisy
is the same Saviour who lifts the humble.
He doesn’t ask for perfection — only perseverance.