In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I say shalom and good morning to everybody.
You can say good morning back because this is family with no barrier of language. As you
know, we are from Pakistan where we speak different languages, but here in the United States of
America—my country as an American citizen—I am especially thankful for this parish, rectory,
and the people who supported me from the beginning. Let me share a short story. When I was
looking for a church, I sent a letter to a seminary, and a bishop from Alabama visiting there
received it and responded. I didn’t realize Alabama was a state in America at the time—it seemed
like somewhere in the Arabian Gulf. This is where God reunited me. I am thankful to God and
the people here. While working at the Baptist Medical Center, I joined this church nearly 30
years ago. Whenever I am here, I am encouraged to continue God’s mission in Pakistan, which is
not easy ground—like plowing hard soil, as Jennifer explained. I came here, broke agreements to
return to Pakistan, but Father Jim Pinto questioned why I was leaving such support when visas
are difficult. Thanks be to God, I got a visa, started courses in New York, worked in Alabama to
get a green card, and faced difficult decisions as my people questioned my return. Yet it is God’s
mission. Today’s Gospel challenges us on true discipleship, which is not easy in Pakistan amid
many challenges, but God is always with us. In 2014, after a terrorist attack on a neighboring
church in Peshawar killing hundreds, during Mass I saw two drops of blood upon elevating the
host—a confirmation that Jesus will never forsake us. This strengthens our faith, as St. Paul
writes in Romans 8:35: Can anything separate us from the love Christ has for us? Troubles,
problems, sufferings, hunger, nakedness, danger, or violent death—we are like sheep to be
killed, yet nothing separates us. Even when our lives are on the line, Jesus is with us. Thank you,
God bless you. When praying about this word, I was drawn to Genesis 26 about Isaac re-digging
the wells Abraham dug that the Philistines had filled. He dug more, facing contention at some
but finding a well of spaciousness and peace. Similarly, Jesus in John 7 speaks of rivers of living
water flowing from us. I believe this word removes what covers the wells in hearts, allowing
fullness and living water to emerge. Let go and let it flow.

Father Mark prayed without
knowing my direction, yet the Holy Spirit knows. As a late teenager, I went spelunking in a cave
near Lake Pretty. After descending into a chasm, I crawled through a narrow hole on my elbows
for 35-40 yards in pitch darkness, pulled forward by something ahead. Emerging into a
magnificent cavern with crystals, stalactites, stalagmites, and dripping water, I saw it as life: we
crawl through tight, dark places not knowing what’s ahead, but encouragement says keep going
—God has something beautiful on the other side. Jesus in Matthew 10 sends disciples like sheep
among wolves, instructing them to be shrewd as snakes and innocent as doves. They will face
hatred, yet not one sparrow falls apart from the Father’s will; we are worth more than many
sparrows. Do not be afraid. He came not to bring peace but a sword—turning family members
against each other. This mashal, a paradoxical saying, emphasizes one truth against another: He
is the Prince of Peace, yet brings a sword of opposition, separation, and persecution for the
Gospel. Family, central to Jewish life, faces this test. Following Jesus means trusting Him with
everything, making our affection, loyalty, and focus for Him above all else—even family—while
still honoring relationships. Augustine said love God first, then everything else in God. When He
is first, we are better in all relationships. We hold ropes pulling us away, but prioritizing Him
brings peace amid the sword. Whoever loves family more than Him or does not take up their
cross is not worthy; whoever loses life for His sake finds it. The heart is a factory of idols—good
things out of proportion must be released, for belonging to Christ is an inestimable gift nothing
replaces. Taking up the cross means total surrender, relinquishing ownership of our lives to
follow the Holy Spirit’s direction. Our lives belong to Him. The beauty of life is in simple acts—
a cup of cold water to a disciple brings reward. Jesus measures faithfulness in quiet, humble,
hidden things: a smile, a prayer, a gift, kitchen work. He sees it all. He is no fool who gives up
what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose. As missionary Jim Elliott said, when Christ is
our highest treasure, every sacrifice finds meaning, every cross a pathway to resurrection, and
small acts become eternal investments. This is our purpose and calling—it will be rough yet
glorious. Take it to the streets