Our Lady of Sorrows Roman Catholic Church

09/13/2026

❤️MY DAILY BREAD
Forgiveness: The Debt We Cannot Afford to Keep

There is a story of two elderly brothers who had not spoken to each other for many years. They lived on neighbouring farms, but a bitter disagreement had turned the short distance between their houses into a wall. One day, the younger brother became seriously ill. His daughter quietly went to the older brother and said, “Dad may not have much time left. If there is anything you want to say to him, say it now.” The old man sat silently for a long time, then simply replied, “I have waited too long already.” He walked across the field, entered his brother’s room, and held his hand. No great explanation was needed. Some wounds are healed not by winning an argument, but by deciding that love must have the last word.

Today’s first reading from Sirach 27:30–28:7 gives us a hard wisdom: “Forgive your neighbour’s injustice; then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven.” Jesus takes this even further in Matthew 18:21–35. Peter wants to know how many times he must forgive. Jesus answers, “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” Then comes the unforgettable parable of the servant whose enormous debt is forgiven by his master, only for him to turn around and demand a tiny debt from another. The tragedy is not that he received mercy; it is that he received mercy without allowing mercy to change him.

The second reading, Romans 14:7–9, gives us the deeper foundation: “None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself.” We belong to the Lord, and therefore we cannot build our lives around old grievances, rivalries and personal victories. Forgiveness does not mean pretending that injustice never happened, nor does it mean allowing someone to continue harming us. Sometimes forgiveness requires boundaries, justice and even distance. But forgiveness means refusing to let another person’s wrongdoing become the permanent ruler of our heart. The person who hurt you may have taken something from your past; do not allow them to take your future as well.

Perhaps the greatest Christian freedom is this: I can remember the wound without worshipping it. A race, a tribe, parish, a family, a marriage, a friendship, a corporation, even a nation can remain imprisoned by yesterday if nobody is willing to say, “Enough. Let mercy begin with me.” We often ask God for forgiveness while keeping careful records of what others have done to us. Jesus turns the question around: If God has cancelled my enormous debt, who am I to imprison my neighbour over a smaller one? Forgiveness is not weakness. It is the courage to stop passing yesterday’s pain into tomorrow.

🎯Today, identify one person whose name still carries pain in your heart. Pray for that person today. If appropriate and safe, take one visible step towards reconciliation.

🙏🏽Lord, teach me to forgive as I have been forgiven. Free my heart from resentment, bitterness and old wounds.
Let Your mercy have the final word in my life. Amen.
🫶🏻fr Ebido - The Watchman

09/06/2026

❤️MY DAILY BREAD
23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
AM I MY BROTHER’S KEEPER?

A man once noticed smoke rising from his neighbour’s house late at night. He could have said, “It is none of my business,” and gone back to sleep. But he ran to the door and began knocking. The family woke up and escaped before the fire consumed the house. The man was not responsible for the fire, but he understood that seeing danger creates a responsibility to warn. This is precisely the image God gives Ezekiel: “I have appointed you a watchman for the house of Israel.”

The Gospel takes this responsibility one step deeper. Jesus says that when a brother or sister sins, we must go first privately and speak to them. We are not called to expose, humiliate, gossip about, or reject the person; we are called to win the person back. There is a world of difference between correction motivated by love and criticism motivated by pride. The watchman does not shout from the street so that everyone can hear; he goes to the person because he wants the person saved. In our families, friendships, workplaces and parishes, many relationships are destroyed because we speak “about” people instead of speaking “to” them. Yet silence is not always charity. Sometimes refusing to warn someone could be cowardice or indifference disguised as peace.

But the Word of God also warns the watchman himself: your responsibility is to warn, not to control the outcome. Ezekiel says that if the wicked person refuses to change after being warned, the responsibility for the refusal belongs to that person. We cannot save people by force. We cannot make another person repent. We cannot carry another person’s conscience on our shoulders. Our duty is to speak the truth in love, with humility, patience and the genuine desire for the other’s good. And this is why St Paul gives us the principle that governs every correction: “Owe nothing to anyone, except to love one another.” Before I correct my brother, therefore, I must ask: Am I trying to save him - or simply trying to prove that I am right?

There is a watchman in every Christian community. Sometimes you are that watchman for someone else; sometimes someone else is God’s watchman for you. A mature Christian must be humble enough both to correct and to be corrected. Today, perhaps God is asking you to have one difficult but loving conversation you have been avoiding. Perhaps He is also asking you to soften your heart toward someone who is trying to correct you. The Church cannot become a community of gossip, factions and silent resentment. We are called to become a community where truth is spoken because love cares, and where correction leads ultimately to reconciliation. A true watchman does not watch people so that he can condemn them; he watches over them because he loves them.

🎯Identify one person with whom you need to have a truthful, charitable conversation. Pray first. Speak privately. Speak gently. Speak the truth - and leave the result in God’s hands.

🙏🏽PRAYER: Lord Jesus, make me a faithful watchman. Give me courage to speak when love requires it, humility when I need correction, wisdom to know when to remain silent, and charity always to seek the salvation and good of my brother or sister. Amen.
🫶🏻 Fr Ebido OP - The Watchman

09/03/2026

❤️My Daily Bread
22nd Wk Ord Time
“I Must Go to the Other Towns”

A young priest once complained to an older missionary, “Father, I have finally found a parish where everyone knows me, appreciates me, and listens to me. I think I can settle here.” The old priest smiled and replied, “That is precisely when you must ask whether God has another place for you.” Sometimes the greatest temptation is not doing something evil; it is becoming so comfortable doing something good that we stop listening for what God wants you to do next. Ministry becomes a search for security.

In today’s Gospel, after healing the sick and receiving the admiration of the crowds, Jesus refuses to settle into the comfort of being wanted. “To the other towns also I must proclaim the good news…” His mission is larger than one town, one group, one race, or one circle of admirers. Paul makes the same point to the Corinthians: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth.” What a powerful word for every parish! No race or ministry owns the Church; no family owns the parish; no committee owns a particular ministry; no priest, council, or devotional group is the centre. Christ is the centre. When rivalry, jealousy, factions and inter-group or personal antagonisms enter parish life, gossip replaces the “Goodnews” and Christ is crucified again and again in his body, the Church! Be careful!

🎯Today, identify one rivalry, resentment, or division - however small - in your parish community. Instead of feeding it, take one concrete step toward peace: speak kindly, refuse gossip, forgive an offence, or reach out to someone you have been avoiding.

🙏🏽Lord Jesus, deliver Your Church from jealousy, rivalry and division. Purify our hearts of the desire to possess, control or exclude. Make our parish communities places where differences become gifts, disagreements become opportunities for charity, and every person finds a home in Your love. Amen
🫶🏻fr Ebido OP - The Watchman

08/30/2026

August 30 Bulletin

08/30/2026

September 2026 Calendar of Masses and Events

08/30/2026

❤️My Daily Bread
22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A
The Cross: The Price Love Is Willing to Pay

Nelson Mandela once reflected on the choices that confronted him as a young lawyer. He could have followed the advice of Hans Muller, a successful lawyer who encouraged him to concentrate on making money and building a comfortable professional life. Mandela knew that path was possible. Instead, he chose another road: political struggle, danger, life as a fugitive, and eventually twenty-seven years in prison. His sufferings was the direct consequences of the choice he made, for the love of his people, to fight for justice for them. This is how you identify the cross. It was a choice between living for himself and giving himself to something larger than himself - something good and noble. Mandela’s story helps us understand Jesus’ words today: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” The cross is not just your arthritis! It could be in certain circumstances. Peter wanted Jesus to be Messiah without suffering. Jesus tells him that he is “thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” The Cross begins when love becomes more important than self-preservation or personal gain/comfort.

We see the same mystery in a very different setting in the recent story of little Rudy. Rudy, a three-year-old boy with muscular dystrophy, uses a wheelchair. For six months, his parents carried both Rudy and his wheelchair up and down sixteen stairs in their home, several times a day. It was exhausting, but they did it because their son needed them. Eventually, as the burden increased, they installed a lift. They did not abandon the cross; they found a better way to carry it. That is important for Christian families. The Cross does not mean seeking suffering, remaining trapped in unhealthy situations, or refusing help. It means refusing to abandon love when love becomes costly. Sometimes the Cross is staying beside a sick spouse, caring for an aging parent, enduring the sleepless nights of a troubled child, forgiving an injury, or sacrificing one’s own plans for someone who needs us. But sometimes carrying the Cross well may include asking for help, changing the arrangement, setting a boundary, or finding a wiser way forward. Rudy’s parents teach us that love carries, but love also thinks, adapts and perseveres. The “cross of love” could mean withholding privileges or benefits from a deviant kid to teach him/her lessons in responsibility or gratitude.

This is precisely why Paul says in the second reading, “Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” Often, where the world teaches us to ask, “What do I get out of this?” Jesus teaches us to ask, “What is love asking of me?” That question changes our marriage dynamics, family relationships, parenting, vocation and discipleship. Jeremiah discovered it when God’s word became like “fire burning” within him even when obedience brought him suffering. The Cross is therefore not simply pain; it is the cost of remaining faithful to love and truth when walking away would be easier. We should not romanticize suffering, but neither should we run from every sacrifice. A marriage without sacrifice becomes a contract. A family without sacrifice becomes a collection of individuals. A Church without sacrifice becomes an audience. And a Christian life without sacrifice becomes Christianity without the Cross. Jesus asks, “What profit would there be for one to gain the whole world and forfeit his life?” We can gain comfort and lose our family; gain success and lose our integrity; gain the world and lose our soul.

So today Jesus is NOT asking us, “How much suffering can you endure?” He is asking, “Whom are you willing to love at a cost?” Mandela accepted a terrible personal cost because he believed his people’s dignity was worth more than his comfort. Rudy’s parents accepted exhausting physical work because their child was worth the cost. And Christ went to Calvary because we were worth the cost. That is the heart of the Cross: not suffering for suffering’s sake, but love refusing to abandon the beloved. Therefore, when your family presents you with a cross, do not immediately ask, “How can I escape this?” Ask first, “Lord, whom are You teaching me to love here?” And then ask the second question: “Is there a better way to carry this cross?” Because sometimes holiness means carrying the burden; sometimes it means helping another carry it; sometimes it means changing how it is carried. But always, the Christian follows Christ. The Cross is where love proves that the beloved is worth the price ofthe sacrifice made.

👉🏽Assignment: This week, identify one costly responsibility in your family or vocation. Pray not simply for its removal, but for the wisdom to know what love requires and how the burden can be carried more faithfully.

🙏🏽Prayer: Lord Jesus, teach us to think as You do. Give us courage to sacrifice without bitterness, wisdom to seek help without shame, and love strong enough to remain faithful when discipleship becomes costly. May we never run from the Cross You ask us to carry with You. Amen.
🫶🏻Fr Ebido OP - The Watchman

08/23/2026

❤️MY DAILY BREAD
21st Sunday Ordinary Time A
WHO GAVE YOU THE KEYS?
Is 22:19-23; Rom 11:33-36 Matt 16:13-20

A young man once said to his grandfather, “Why should I listen to the old ways? We have better technology, better education and more freedom now. Your generation cannot tell us how to live.” The grandfather did not argue. He picked up an old family photograph and said, “Before you reject everything we handed you, ask one question: What did we hand you that didn’t take generations to discover, protect and preserve?” The young man became quiet. The truth is this: Progress gives us new tools, but it does not automatically give us new wisdom. Some things are new because they are better; other things are old because they are precious.

That Old man’s question lies beneath the Gospel today. Jesus asks His disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” and then presses the question personally: “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answers, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus then entrusts him with the keys of the Kingdom. This is a particularly important Gospel for a generation asking whether faith in God is still necessary. Young people rightly ask difficult questions: Why should I believe what I cannot see? Why should an institution have authority over my conscience? Why should I accept traditions simply because previous generations accepted them? Why can’t I be spiritual without belonging to a Church? These are not foolish questions. In fact, the Church should welcome them.

But there is a difference between questioning something in order to understand it and rejecting something merely because it is old or inherited. The modern world often treats autonomy as the highest form of freedom: I decide what is true; I decide what is right; I decide what I believe. Yet this can quietly become another kind of bo***ge, because the person who refuses every authority eventually becomes governed by the loudest voice, the latest algorithm, the strongest emotion, the prevailing culture or the opinions of his peers. The verdict: No, you are not free, you are simply a slave.

The Gospel therefore forces us to reconsider what authority means. Contemporary culture is understandably suspicious of authority because authority has sometimes been abused - in politics, business, families and even religious institutions. Young people have seen hypocrisy, scandals, manipulation and leaders who demanded obedience while failing to live what they preached. Their suspicion is not entirely irrational. But the answer to abused authority is not necessarily no authority but a rightly ordered authority. Jesus does not give Peter the keys because Peter has become intellectually superior or morally flawless. He gives him authority because something precious has been entrusted to him for preservation.

You may ask why every nation’s Legal system needs a Supreme court? It’s given authority in the nation’s constitution to preserve what they all hold sacred. It is the final interpreter of the laws of the land. It is not above the constitution but serves to protect it. If its judgment is disregarded, anarchy follows. In an analogous way, the power of the keys given to Peter first, and then to the apostles together with him, is like the authority of the Supreme Court. The Church does not claim to have invented the Gospel. She claims to have received a treasure. The Scripture, and Sacred Tradition, together form what Vatican II calls the one sacred deposit of God’s Word entrusted to the Church. The Church’s teaching authority (the Living Magisterium) is meant to serve that deposit, and never to stand above it.

The above is crucial for young Catholics (and even outsiders) to understand: Tradition is not simply “what old people like.” Tradition is the living transmission of what the Church received from Christ through the Apostles. The Eucharist, the Scriptures, the Creed, the sacraments, the sacred teachings, the moral vision of human dignity, the witness of the saints, the wisdom of the Fathers in their writings, and centuries of prayer, are not obstacles to freedom. They are treasures handed forward because someone believed they were too valuable to lose. We will continue this conversation because there is also a challenge here for the Church. We cannot simply tell young people, “Believe because we say so.” We must help them discover why the treasure is worth believing. That’s a reflection for another day.

👉🏽Assignment: Ask yourself - and, if possible, ask a young person you know - this question this week: “What would you need to discover about Jesus before you could honestly say, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God’?” Do not rush to give an answer. Listen first. Faith grows where honest questions are permitted to meet honest witnesses.

🙏🏽Prayer: Lord Jesus, You ask every generation, “Who do you say that I am?” Give our young people the courage to ask difficult questions without fear, and the humility to seek answers without prejudice. Protect them from both blind rejection and blind acceptance. Give the Church wisdom to present the treasures of faith with clarity, beauty and credibility. Purify every abuse of authority among us, and teach us that true authority exists to serve truth, protect what is precious and open doors to life and love.
🫶🏻Fr Ebido OP - The Watchman

08/09/2026

Encyclical Letter of His Hoiliness Leo XIV Magnifica Humanitarian (15 May 2026)

ENCYCLICAL LETTER MAGNIFICA HUMANITAS OF HIS HOLINESS POPE LEO XIV ON SAFEGUARDING THE HUMAN PERSON IN THE TIME OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE [ Multimedia ] ___________________________

08/09/2026

❤️My Daily Bread
19th Sunday Ordinary Time
Courage to Step Out of the Boat

In 1859, the famous French tightrope walker Charles Blondin amazed thousands by walking across Niagara Gorge on a tightrope several times. On one occasion, he pushed a wheelbarrow across the rope. Turning to the cheering crowd, he asked, “Do you believe I can carry a person across?” Everyone shouted, “Yes!” Then he asked for a volunteer to climb into the wheelbarrow. The crowd suddenly fell silent. They believed in Blondin’s ability, but not enough to entrust themselves to him. Only his manager, Harry Colcord, eventually agreed to ride with him, placing his life completely in Blondin’s hands. There is a great difference between believing about someone and believing in someone.
That distinction lies at the heart of this Sunday’s Gospel (Matthew 14:22-36). After feeding the five thousand, Jesus sends His disciples ahead by boat while He goes up the mountain to pray. During the night, a violent storm terrifies them until Jesus comes walking on the water. Peter does something astonishing. At Jesus’ invitation, he steps out of the boat and actually walks on the water. But the moment he shifts his attention from Christ to the raging wind, fear overwhelms him and he begins to sink. Jesus immediately stretches out His hand, lifts him up, and gently asks, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Peter’s failure was not that he stepped out of the boat; his failure was that he stopped looking at Jesus. The first reading (1 Kings 19:9a, 11-13a) offers the same lesson. Elijah expects God in the wind, earthquake, and fire, but discovers Him instead in a gentle whisper. The message is that God often comes quietly, or in ways we don’t expect. Like Elijah, part of our spiritual formation is updating our ‘distorted’ image of Him that we often hold. He is asking us to trust Him even when He seems ‘absent’ in our life circumstances. St. Paul, in Romans 9:1-5, reveals another aspect of faith: a heart that loves so deeply that it is willing to suffer - ‘to be accursed’ - for the salvation of others!
Our world is full of storms - uncertain economies, family tensions, illness, loneliness, disappointments, and fears about the future. The temptation is to focus on the waves until anxiety becomes stronger than faith. Yet every disciple has a “boat” that feels safe: familiar habits, old resentments, excessive caution, or comfortable routines that prevent growth. Jesus does not call us to reckless living; He calls us to courageous trust. The miracle is not that Peter briefly walked on water. The greater miracle is that when Peter cried, “Lord, save me!”, Jesus reached out immediately. That same hand still reaches toward us every time we begin to sink. Faith is not the absence of storms; it is the decision to keep our eyes fixed on Christ while the storm rages. That needs deep trust
The Church today needs Christians who dare to leave the boat - not because they are fearless, but because they know Who is calling them. Families need parents who lead their children in prayer despite a secular culture. Parishes need disciples who volunteer even when they feel inadequate. Communities need believers who speak truth with charity instead of remaining silent. Like Elijah, we must cultivate silence to hear God’s whisper. Like Peter, we must risk obedience even when the outcome is uncertain. Like Paul, we must carry in our hearts a compassionate concern for those who have drifted away from God. The Lord is still saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” Every act of courageous faith becomes a witness that Christ is truly Lord over every storm.
👉🏽Assignment: Identify one “boat” you have been reluctant to leave because of fear. This week, take one concrete step of faith - make that difficult phone call, forgive someone, begin a daily time of prayer, volunteer for a ministry, or trust God with a burden you have carried alone. Keep your eyes on Christ, not on the waves.
🙏🏽Prayer: Lord Jesus, in the storms of life You never abandon Your people. Strengthen our faith when fear threatens to overwhelm us. Teach us to hear Your gentle voice, to step out in courageous trust, and to keep our eyes fixed on You. When we begin to sink, stretch out Your hand and lift us again. May our lives bear witness that You alone are Lord of every storm. Amen.
🫶🏻Fr Ebido OP - The Watchman

08/02/2026

My Daily Bread
18th Sunday of Ordinary Time
WHAT LITTLE WE OFFER, GOD MULTIPLIES

There is a true story that has always moved me deeply. It is the story of Hattie May Wiatt, a six-year-old girl who lived near Grace Baptist Church in Philadelphia in the late nineteenth century. The Sunday school was so crowded that many children, including Hattie, were often turned away for lack of space. One day, Pastor Dr. Russell Conwell told her, “Someday we will build a bigger church so every child can come.” Hattie did not live to see that dream fulfilled; she died suddenly in 1886. After her death, her parents found 57 cents carefully wrapped beneath her pillow, with a note: “To help build a bigger church so more children can go to Sunday school.” That small, hidden gift was shared at her funeral and inspired a wave of generosity that helped expand the ministry and eventually contributed to the growth of institutions such as the Baptist Temple. What seemed almost nothing became, in God’s hands, the beginning of something far greater. A child’s small offering, surrendered in love, was multiplied into lasting blessing.

Today’s Gospel tells another unforgettable story of generous giving. Jesus feeds more than five thousand men, besides women and children, with five loaves and two fish. While Matthew simply records the miracle, John 6:8–9 reveals that the food came from a little boy. Faced with a vast, hungry crowd, the disciples saw only scarcity and impossibility. Jesus, however, saw an opportunity for the Father’s glory to be revealed. To understand this miracle more deeply, we can reflect on three dimensions: its context, its meaning, and its challenge for us his disciples today.

First, the context. Jesus had just received the heartbreaking news that His cousin, John the Baptist, had been brutally executed by Herod. At the same time, the apostles had returned from their missionary journey. Jesus sought a quiet place for rest, prayer, and grief. Yet when they arrived, a large crowd was already waiting. Most of us would have sent them away. Jesus did the opposite. St. Mark tells us that “His heart was moved with compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd” Mark 6:34. He set aside His own sorrow, taught them at length, healed the sick, and when evening came, refused to dismiss them hungry. Then He turned to the disciples and asked: “What do you have?” Before God works a miracle, He often begins with what we are willing to surrender.

Secondly, the miracle points beyond physical bread. In today’s first reading, Isaiah proclaims God’s invitation: “All you who are thirsty, come to the water… come, receive grain and eat without paying.” Jesus fulfills this promise. He satisfies bodily hunger, but more deeply, He reveals Himself as the One who alone can satisfy the human heart. The multiplication of the loaves prepares us for the Eucharist, where Christ becomes the true Bread of Life - not only giving bread, but giving Himself. Every action we see in the Gospel: taking, blessing, breaking, and giving—anticipates what we do at Mass. God does not merely give gifts; He gives His very self, and calls us into that same self-giving love.

Finally, the miracle becomes our own story. Christ still asks each of us: “What do you have?” We may feel our offering is too small - limited time, weak talents, little money, fading strength, or too simple acts of kindness. Yet Scripture and experience teach the same truth: God multiplies what is placed in His hands with faith. Hattie’s 57 cents and the boy’s five loaves both became more than anyone could have imagined. So too, our small offerings: an hour of presence, a word of encouragement, a hidden sacrifice, a prayer for someone in need; they become abundance when surrendered in love. At every Eucharist, Christ continues to break Himself for the life of the world, reminding us that nothing given to Him in faith is ever too small to be transformed.

Assignment: Identify one “small loaf” you can offer this week: visit someone who is lonely, perform a hidden act of kindness, make a generous gift, spend an hour praying for someone who is struggling, or use your talents in service. Place it consciously into the hands of Jesus and ask Him to multiply it according to His will.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, Bread of Life, take what little I have and transform it into a blessing for others. Free me from the belief that my gift is too small to matter. Teach me to trust Your power to multiply every act of love offered in faith. May my life, like Yours, become bread broken for the life of the world. Amen.

Fr. Ebido, OP – The Watchman