Homélies de Dom Armand Veilleux

Feast of St. Ignatius of Antioch,

PRIVATE

October 17, 2026

I knew a Baptist minister, who was a very good Christian, and who used to come often to make retreats at our monastery in Conyers.  Several years ago he did not feel too well and went to see a doctor. After a series of tests the doctor told him that he had terminal cancer, and had probably only a few months to live.  The man received that news with a very great peace and did not seem to be disturbed at all.  The doctor was puzzled by that serenity and told him: "Most people are very deeply disturbed or even discouraged when they are told that they have cancer, especially terminal cancer.  How is it that you are so peaceful ? " The man answered: "Well, my conviction is that we are all terminal!"

This, I think was the attitude of the great martyrs, like Ignatius, whom we celebrate today, who was one of the first Christian martyrs, and one of the greatest.  For the martyrs, the whole meaning of life here on earth was that it was only a passage to the eternal life with God.  And, therefore, death was not feared.  It was rather awaited, often with joy, as the happy moment of entering into that eternal happiness.

Ignatius was the bishop of Antioch and was condemned to death. He is brought from Antioch to Rome by a group of Roman soldiers.  It is a very long journey, and all along his journey, Ignatius writes seven letters to various Churches.  These letters are among the most beautiful things ever written by a Christian.  Ignatius, who knows that he will be given as food to the lions, in Rome, writes: "I am the wheat of Christ, ground by the teeth of beasts to become pure bread".

As we receive the Body of Christ in this Eucharist, let us remember that it is the Body of Christ, that was ground like wheat during his passion and died for us.  Let us ask for the courage to die to ourselves, to accept all the daily deaths that will allow us to face our own final death, when it comes, as a happy transition to a life of eternal happiness with God.

This Gospel text we have just read is a continuation of the one we had yesterday.

In Luke's Gospel, the whole of Jesus' teaching is set in a context of struggle between the kingdom of God, whose coming Jesus announces, and the forces of evil, represented first by the tempter in the desert, then by the increasingly strong opposition that the Pharisees and Scribes offer Jesus, until his long ascent to Jerusalem, where the forces of evil seem to have triumphed over him when he is put to death and laid in the tomb, awaiting the final victory of the Son of God on the morning of the Resurrection.

In the Gospe, text we have just read, Jesus continues the long list of rebukes to the Pharisees and Doctors of the Law, much of which we read yesterday.

And all these rebukes are summarized in one terrible sentence: "Woe to you, doctors of the Law. You have taken away the key to knowledge; you yourselves have not entered into it, and those who tried to enter into it, you prevented them.

The knowledge of God is at the heart of all Revelation in both the Old and New Testaments. The human being, created in the image and likeness of God, is capable of knowing him and therefore also of loving him. But this knowledge is given to him - it is a gift. Here on earth we see God through the images we have of Him. In the age to come, we will see him face to face.  But already here on earth we have a genuine knowledge of Him through love.  A love that is pure gift, since this love has been placed in our hearts by the Holy Spirit.  A love that manifests itself through faithfulness to His commandment - which is itself first of all the commandment of love, which underlies all the others.

In the temptation of Adam and Eve at the beginning of Genesis, the tempter wants to convince them that they can monopolize that knowledge which God, according to the tempter, would like to reserve for Himself. Jesus reproaches the Pharisees for having taken away the key to knowledge, replacing love with the observance of a multitude of commandments and practices.

At this Eucharist, let us ask ourselves to what extent we ourselves penetrate the mystery of the knowledge of God, through fidelity to His commandment of love of God and neighbor, and to what extent we close ourselves off from this knowledge - and at the same time block access to it for our brothers and sisters - whenever we fail to keep this fundamental commandment of love of God and neighbor.

Armand Veilleux

15 octobre 2026 – jeudi de la 28ème semaine du TO

Ep 1, 1-10; Lc 11, 47-54

Homélie

Ce texte d’Évangile que nous venons de lire est la continuation de celui que nous avions hier.

Dans l’Évangile de Luc, tout l’enseignement de Jésus se situe dans un contexte de lutte entre le royaume de Dieu dont Jésus annonce la venue et les forces du mal, représentées d’abord par le tentateur au désert, puis par l’opposition de plus en plus forte que les Pharisiens et les Scribes offrent à Jésus, jusqu’à sa longue montée vers Jérusalem, où les forces du mal sembleront avoir triomphé de lui quand il est mis à mort et déposé au tombeau, en attendant la victoire finale du Fils de Dieu le matin de la résurrection.

October 13, 2026 – Tuesday of the 28th Week in Ordinary Time

Mal 1:14b–2:1, 2b, 8–10; 1 Thess 2:7b–9, 13; Matt 23:1–12 

Homily

           The two readings we have just heard are so clear that they hardly need any commentary!

           Jesus’ attitude toward the Pharisee who had invited him to dine at his home—and toward the Pharisees in general—in the Gospel account we have read is marked by a severity rarely found in His words.  This speaks to the importance of the message conveyed by His words.

           Jesus is full of understanding and mercy toward all human weakness. But He is extremely severe toward any form of hypocrisy. And it is hypocrisy that is at the heart of this story.

           The practice of the law—of any law, and therefore also of our monastic rules—has meaning only if it truly corresponds to a disposition of the heart.

           The same message is conveyed to us in Paul’s words to the Galatians regarding circumcision. We are not saved by any rite or observance whatsoever. Salvation is a pure gift from God, an act of love that asks only to be received with love. Any observance of the Law finds its meaning when it is an expression of such love.

Armand Veilleux

October 18, 2026                                                                                    29th Sunday "A"

Is 45,1.4-6a ; 1 Th 1,1-5b ; Mat 22,15-21

 

H O M I L Y

    When the Pharisees, the Scribes and the Priests brought Jesus to Pontius Pilate  in order to have him sentenced and executed by the Roman authorities, they used the following accusation against him: "We found this man inciting our people to revolt; opposing payment of tribute to Caesar..." (Luke 23,2).  In fact, the most certain and well‑attested fact about Jesus of Nazareth is that he was tried and executed by the Romans on a charge of high treason.  It is important therefore to analyze attentively what happens in the scene reported by this morning's Gospel, since it is that scene that will be used by the Jewish authorities to have Jesus executed as a political agitator. 

    Jesus was full of understanding of human weakness and was shockingly compassionate with all kinds of sinners.  But if there was one thing he could not stand, it was hypocrisy.  He could no stand the hypocrisy of the Jewish authorities, that made them oppress politically, socially and economically their own people in the name of religion.  And he certainly could not stand the hypocrisy that would consist today in seeing in this Gospel the foundation for a so‑called distinction between politics and religion that allows us at times to keep our social and economic behavior from being influenced by the Gospel.  In reality such a distinction is a purely modern, pagan, concept.

    The people of Israel lived under Roman rule.  And there is ample evidence in the Gospel to show that Jesus wanted Israel to be liberated from the Roman imperialism just as much as the Zealots, the Pharisees, the Essenes or anyone else wanted it.  But his preoccupation reached much farther than that of any of those groups.  He wanted to reach to the root cause of all oppression and domination: man's lack of compassion.  If the people of Israel were to continue to lack compassion for one another, would the overthrowing of the Romans make Israel any more liberated than before?  If the Jews continued to live off the worldly values of money, prestige, group solidarity and power, would the Roman oppression not be replaced by an equally loveless Jewish oppression? 

    Jesus was much more genuinely concerned about liberation than the Zealots were.  They wanted a mere change of government (nowadays man would talk of “change of regime”)  from Roman to Jewish.  Jesus had no problem with that;  but he wanted first of all a change that would affect every sphere of life.  He saw what no one else had been able to see, that there was more oppression and economic exploitation from within Judaism than from without.  The middle‑class Jews who were in rebellion against Rome were themselves oppressors of the poor and the uneducated.  The ordinary people had to suffer far more on account of the oppression of the scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees and Zealots than on account of the Romans.  The protest against Roman oppression was hypocritical.   And this is the point of Jesus' famous answer to the question about the paying of taxes to Caesar. 

    In practice Roman rule meant Roman taxation.  For the Phari­sees, paying taxes to the Roman overlord meant giving to Caesar what belonged to God, namely, Israel's money and possessions.  But for Jesus this was a rationalization, a hypocritical excuse for avarice.   It had nothing to do with the real issue.

In their question, they ask whether it is legitimate  to pay the taxes.  In his response, Jesus does ot speak about paying, but rather about giving back.  "Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God".  That answer reveals that Jesus saw the real motive behind all the fuss that the Jews made about the taxation issue: greed for money.  Those who ask the question are themselves in possession of Roman coins.  Those coins had on them Caesar's name and his image.  It was not God's money but Caesar's money.  If you refuse to give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar then it can only be because you are a lover of money.  If you really wished to give back to God what belongs to God, you would sell all your possessions and give them to the poor, you would give up your desire for power, prestige and possessions. 

    The real issue was oppression itself and not the fact that a pagan Roman dared to oppress God's chosen people.  The root cause of oppression was man's lack of compassion.  Considered in terms of compassion the hardship of having to pay taxes to a Roman govern­ment instead of a Jewish government  were minimal in comparison with the hardships suffered by the poor and the sinners at the hands of their rich and virtuous fellow‑contrymen.  Both hardships need to be removed but Jesus was much more sensitive to the hardships of the poor and the sinners, as  so many Gospel stories clearly show. 

    Jesus did not reproach the Pharisees for being too political; he reproached them in a sense for being "too religious", that is, for oppressing their fellow brothers and sisters in the name of a loveless under­standing of religion. 

    And, who knows, maybe we also are too "religious" at times...

Armand Veilleux

13 octobre 2026 – mardi de la 28ème semaine du Temps Ordinaire

Ml 1,14b - 2,1.2b.8-10; 1 Th 2,7b-9.13; Mt 23,1-12

Homélie

           Les deux lectures que nous venons d’entendre sont si limpides qu’elles n’ont guère besoin de commentaire !

           L’attitude de Jésus à l’égard du Pharisien qui l’avait invité à manger chez-lui, et à l’égard des Pharisiens en général, dans le récit évangélique que nous avons lu, est d’une sévérité qu’on trouve rarement dans sa bouche.  C’est dire l’importance du message que ses paroles transmettent.

           Jésus est plein de compréhension de de miséricorde pour toute faiblesse humaine. Mais il est d’une très grande sévérité pour toute forme d’hypocrisie. Et c’est d’hypocrisie qu’il s’agit dans ce récit.

           La pratique de la loi – de toute loi, et donc aussi de nos règlements monastiques – n’a de sens que si elle correspond vraiment à une disposition du cœur. 

           Le même message nous est livré dans les paroles de Paul aux Galates au sujet de la circoncision.  Nous ne sommes sauvés par aucun rite ou aucune observance que ce soit.  Le salut est un pur don de Dieu, un geste d’amour qui ne demande qu’à être reçu avec amour. Toute observance de la Loi prend son sens lorsqu’elle est l’expression d’un tel amour.

Armand Veilleux

           

          

23 octobre 2026 – vendredi de la 29ème semaine (années paires)

Eph 4,1-6 ; Luc 12, 54-59 

H O M É L I E

Nous terminons aujourd’hui la lecture de ce long chapitre 12 de l’Évangile de Luc, où celui-ci regroupe un grand nombre d’enseignements de Jésus prononcés en des circonstances différentes.  Le fait que nous ignorons, dans la plupart des cas ces circonstances nous rend plus difficile l’interprétation de ces récits.  Les deux petits « logia » d’aujourd’hui sont des paroles de sagesse qui peuvent évidemment être appliquées à toutes les situations. 

12 octobre 2026 : lundi de la 28ère semaine du Temps Ordinaire

Luc 11, 29-32

Homélie 

           Le prophète Jonas fut envoyé par Dieu aux païens de la cité de Ninive.  Mais il ne voulait pas avoir cette mission, et il s’enfuit vers la cité de Tarsis.  Cela, comme nous le savons, le conduisit – lui et tous ses compagnons – dans une terrible tempête.  Au coeur de cette tempête, il reconnut son péché et il accepta – il demanda même – d’être jeté à la mer pour calmer la colère de Dieu. C’est alors qu’il commença une expérience de solitude, symbolisée par le temps qu’il passa dans le ventre d’un gros poisson, avant de commencer, finalement, sa mission qui était de prêcher un message de repentance.  Cependant, il lui était impossible de comprendre qu’une cité païenne pourrait se convertir à Dieu ;  et lorsqu’elle se convertit, il en fut contrarié.  Comme nous le savons par le reste de l’histoire, Dieu va lui faire comprendre, à travers l’image de la plante qui croît en un jour et qui meurt le lendemain, que Lui, Dieu, a le même amour miséricordieux pour la ville païenne de Ninive que pour le peuple d’Israël.