Maggots, grubs, worms. When I imagine one or many of these nasty slimy buggers living inside my body — unseen, feeding off my flesh, slowly rotting me out — I feel deeply disgusted. If I knew I had a worm, I would do anything to remove the alien invader, and fast. But what if I couldn’t ever get it out?

When I was a wet-behind-the-ears seminarian, I was sent for an immersion with the poor. For one month, I lived in a home for adults with developmental disabilities. It was a challenge for me because the residents had significant communication issues. A 30-year-old man there named Robin was totally deaf and mute. He had Down’s Syndrome. He looked like a Viking, with a shock of red hair and a fine beard. But I felt awkward and disconnected from him. All my normal ways of interacting failed. I resigned myself to the fact that we’d never connect.

Every High Priest is appointed to serve God and offer Sacrifices for sins (Hebrews 1:1)

The journey to priesthood is long and intensive. The period of formation differs from one region to another. In Nigeria, for instance, seminarians spend no less than ten years in formation, from the propaedeutic, philosophical, to theological formation, unlike their counterparts who study law, medicine, and other careers in conventional universities. The long period of formation is to adequately prepare well-equipped candidates to lead the people of God to the knowledge of Christ.

This morning I received a text message that a member of my extended family will likely die of cancer within the next few hours. His name is Luke. He is a 45-yearold husband and father of six. Though I am not as close to him as my sister (she is his sister-in-law and knows him well), I wonder: how can we, including Luke himself, manage such a terribly awful and unfair situation?

One of the most touching YouTube videos I’ve ever seen is one in which a deaf woman receives new technology to heal her hearing. She hears her husband's voice for the first time — and her own, too — and bursts into tears of overwhelming joy. It must have been like an immovable wall between her and her loved ones came tumbling down.

Purity isn’t popular at the moment. Or is it? Look at a rack of health magazines or at popular podcasts. You’ll see an infinite ocean of regulations and rituals of diets, intermittent fasting, morning sun rituals, intense juice detox practices, lists of dangerous foods, mental practices, as well as long lists of dos and don’ts for the proper cleaning of clothes, dishes, cars, houses, pets, and children. Like it or not, we long to be pure, clean, and without blemish.

The famous Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoyevsky said, “Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing.” In the Gospel reading this week, Jesus does something harsh and dreadful — he watches his own disciples abandon him. What could possibly be loving about that?

There are different ways of serving, but the same Lord is served." — Cor 12:5

The role of the ministry of acolytes in the Church is sacred; at the same time, it helps to facilitate worship. Etymologically, the term "acolyte" originates from the Greek word akoluthos, meaning "server," "companion" or "follower." Acolytes assist the anyone is deacon or priest at the altar. Their ministry therefore anchors on service to the Church and the people of God.

A priest I know was asked by a door-to-door evangelist, “Do you believe in Jesus?” He answered, “Yes, I do. But if I may ask you,” he continued, “Where do you experience Jesus’ body and blood?” His interlocutor responded somewhat confusedly, “I don’t. I just believe in him. That’s all that is needed.” Later my priest friend would relate to me, “The more I thought about it, that response struck me as totally inadequate. As human beings, we need to encounter Jesus’ body and blood, not just hear about him and mentally believe. Otherwise, Jesus is just a ghost.”

“Go, therefore and make disciples of all nations." —Mt 28:19

The work of Michael Salemi our seminarian is commendable. His work was fruitful and the parishioners benefited immensely from the column he created on the bulletin, where he shared his profound experiences on the seminary formation. He addressed a spectrum of issues bordering on formation. Michael’s legacy of the past months needs to be sustained. I therefore wish to step in to continue with the weekly sharing. Henceforth, our sharing will cut across a variety of topics towards deepening the faith journey of our parishioners.

This week we hear Jesus say, “He that believes in me, has eternal life” (John 6:47). These straightforward words, uttered by human lips, sound — how to put this? — insane. Who could possibly say such a thing? Jesus says things that are so high, so demanding, so beyond our capacity to fathom, we hardly know what to do with them and (if you’re like me), they usually go in one ear and out the other. So, let us ask: how can believing in him lead to eternal life?

Since my college days I’ve loved a song called “Dance with You” by the rock band Live. It touches on the deep mystical hunger of our heart: “I’ve tasted all the wines/ a half a billion times/ came sickened to your shore/ you showed me what this life is for.” These lines resonate with anyone who has feasted on the good things of this world only to be left spiritually hungover and unsatisfied.

"I will appoint for you shepherds after my own heart, who will shepherd you wisely and prudently" (Jer 3:15)

Human formation lays the building's foundation, spiritual formation builds the walls, intellectual formation supports the building, and pastoral formation is the roof of the structure that brings everything together and completes this analogy. If seminaries only focused on intellectual formation, they would be only forming theologians. If the focus was only spiritual, they would be forming contemplative monks. If the focus was only human, they would be forming counselors. The first three pillars are focused interiorly on the individual growth of the seminarian. The pastoral pillar enters each of these and transforms them to no longer be focused interiorly but exteriorly toward others. Clerics have a three-fold office to fulfill for their people -to teach, to govern, and to sanctify - and these offices are the exterior forms of the intellectual, human, and spiritual pillars.