June 28, 2026
Jesus said to his Apostles: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." Matthew 10:37-39
I began thinking about this week’s blog last Sunday when I had an uncharacteristically clear day after the liturgies. A storm came through while I was resting at the rectory and I was overcome with a restlessness that brought me to the computer and a call to look at the upcoming readings.
My mom passed away three years before I was ordained but my father was with me, supporting me all the way along with my brother and the rest of the family. Thinking of my dad on Father’s Day fills me with a bit of sadness knowing that the sacrifices I made as a result of my priesthood were often shared by him. I realize that I was not as present as I could have been and often my ministry was an excuse to not be as generous of my time as I should have been. When someone passes from your life that you miss dearly, I think it is common to regret the excuses made at the expense of quality time together.
It has been four decades this summer since I first approached the Diocese of Albany to consider me for the priesthood, and June 25th, this past Thursday, marked my thirty-second anniversary of my ordination. As much as I admit mistakes and second-guess certain priorities or missed opportunities along the way, I do not regret for a moment the decisions that brought me here.
In the mid ‘80’s I was unsure of myself, fearful of the future, and searching for direction. The call to priesthood gave me a purpose I never could have imagined. I was no longer pinning my hopes on a career windfall or a special person with whom to share my life. In many ways, I was looking for myself and discovering who God was calling me to be. Jesus Christ became that special person who could bring out the best in me.
In Matthew’s Gospel this week, I don’t believe that Jesus brings up those important family ties to speak only of sacrifice and abandonment. The challenge may be to love the mission of discipleship with the same loyalty and commitment. The sacrifices I have made are not that much different, and in some ways pale in comparison, to those I have seen by spouses, parents and children that are devoted to their family.
When you are ready to lose yourself for someone or something else, the leap of faith required means far more than a dimming of one's own personality. If it is truly meant to be, losing a part of yourself becomes a gain and the sacrifice becomes the reward. The first reading this week shows the hospitality and sacrifice of a couple on behalf of Elisha the prophet, but in their self-giving they receive what they had long ago stopped hoping for. I believe that my sacrifices as a priest have brought me riches beyond belief.
In a haunting song from Les Miserables, “A Heart Full of Love,” three characters discover and define themselves in relationship to one another. One laments, “He was not mine to lose,” while the remaining two discover that as one is lost, the other is found; when one dreams, the other becomes fully awake. It may appear to be a paradox but one that is so true.
Whatever vocation we pursue requires sacrifice, but the loss of identity should never cloud the image of God that exists within each of us. To lose self-centeredness does not mean we lose ourselves. In fact, the opposite is often true. Loving unselfishly may bring us a deeper love than we could imagine.
When people make sacrifices for those they love, they often do not lose themselves; they find themselves. St. Paul reminds us in this week's second reading that when we die with Christ, we also live with him. Death no longer has power over those whose lives are united. I see this reality in so many people, especially parents who quietly give so much of themselves for their children.
A friend of mine, a devoted father, once spoke about the demands of his work, which required frequent travel. He had no regrets about the hardships of the road, but he admitted feeling guilt over enjoying the opportunity to see new places and experience new things. He felt conflicted because his family's well-being was always at the center of his heart. I didn’t see real conflict, however, because the positive experiences allowed him to return home refreshed, grateful, and even more present to those he loved.
As we approach Independence Day next week, I am reminded that this same principle extends beyond family life. Think of those who, for generation upon generation, serve in our military, police and fire departments, emergency services, hospitals, schools, and countless other roles that strengthen our communities. They usually are not motivated by a sense of obligation or a need of income. They do so because they care deeply about something larger than themselves. They will speak of love of country, concern for neighbors, commitment to ideals, or a desire to protect people they love. Sacrifices they make appear to be well worth the personal cost.
Jesus is not asking us to love our families less in this week’s Gospel. He is inviting us to love God so completely that every other love finds its proper place. The disciple who loses his life for Christ does not become less human, less loving, or less fulfilled. He or she becomes more fully alive.
Looking back over the years, I can see moments I would do differently. I wish I had spent more time with my father. I wish I had recognized sooner how precious certain moments were at the time. Still, I also know that the call of Christ has given me a life richer than anything I could have imagined as a young man trying to find myself.
The paradox of the Gospel remains true for all of us. When we dream lovingly, we awaken to something more: who we are as Children of God. By God's grace, we find and discover who we were meant to be:
“Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” God bless you.