November 2025 – Tony Lusvardi, S.J.

Capernaum’s centurion: a man of faith and hope

Homily for Monday of the first week of Advent (2019).

The figure we encounter today in the Gospel, the centurion of Capernaum, helps us to prepare. We use his adapted words to prepare for communion: “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” And today, at the beginning of Advent, the season when we prepare for the coming of the Lord, the centurion appears in the readings.

A season of preparation is a season of faith and hope—and I think the centurion of Capernaum appears today because he is a figure of faith and hope.

Both of these virtues exist in imperfect situations. We need hope because of something we lack in the present; we need faith because there is something doubtful about the situation in which we find ourselves.

Roman Sarcophagus, Palazzo Massimo, Rome

The centurion comes to Jesus asking for help. And his words—“I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof”—are poignant because in them we hear the unvarnished truth. We can easily imagine that the centurion, an officer in the imperial army, has seen terrible things and perhaps–even if only out of duty–has had to do terrible things as well. His sense of unworthiness, however, does not prevent him from turning to the Lord.

How much does heaven cost?

Homily for Monday of the 34th week of Ordinary Time (Year 1, 2019 – original Italian).

Church of the Holy Spirit, Žehra, Slovakia

How much does it cost to enter the Kingdom of Heaven?

Perhaps a lot. In the Gospels, the rich never seem to have enough. If we arrive at the gates of paradise with suitcases full of banknotes, it seems that won’t be enough. In eternity, they probably won’t accept credit cards, either.

Perhaps it costs very little. The widow offers just two cents. But if we have listened to the readings from the Old Testament in recent days—the sufferings of the Israelites under pagan rulers and in exile—we know that the price of fidelity can be very high. Martyrs pay with their blood.

Perhaps it is free. God does not need money. He created the world. What would he buy? Still, Jesus praises the widow for making an offering.

So, how much does it cost to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? The answer is everything. No more and no less.

Offering everything to the Lord means that no aspect of our lives is outside the Lord’s presence. Not just certain moments of worship–but also our financial, family, social, political, and professional decisions must be made with God at the center. The young Jews in the first reading from the book of Daniel put fidelity to divine law at the center of their lives, even in the service of the king of Babylon. We owe God nothing less than everything.

But nothing more, either. That is, God does not expect from us something we do not have, something we are not. If we are not the richest, God does not care. If we are not the strongest, God does not care. If we are not the most intelligent or the most beautiful or the most famous, God absolutely does not care. God does not want these things from us. He wants what we have–or, rather, he wants what we are. He wants an offering of ourselves.

This is, in fact, the offering that God makes to us in the sacrament we are about to celebrate. Physically, the Eucharist is not very big. But it is certainly not little. It is God’s gift of himself.

And that is everything.

(Original: Italian)

Readings: Daniel 1:1-6, 8-20; Lk 21:1-4

Church of the Gesù, Rome

November 2019

I was happy to be invited back to the pages of First Things last week to discuss celebrities, scandal, and the sacrament of confirmation. Check out the article: Sacraments of Initiation or Affirmation?

Baby Brian’s story and baptism of desire

Those of you who have been following this blog know that over the summer I was put in touch with a group of people dedicated to telling the story of baby Brian Gallagher, an infant who died shortly after his birth but whose body was discovered to be apparently incorrupt 37 years after his burial. Because Brian was not baptized before he died, the story raised the question of the eternal destiny of babies who die before baptism and my work on baptism of desire.

That story has started to get attention in several Catholic media outlets, and last week I had the chance to talk about baptism of desire on Real Presence Radio; you can listen to the interview here .

Hats off also to Dr. Kody Cooper for his opinion piece about baptism of desire and infants on the Word on Fire site. The author comes to similar conclusions to my own, arguing that baptism of desire is the best theological doctrine with which to consider this tough case, even citing Cardinal Cajetan who I discuss in my book . Baptism of desire seems to me a superior approach to what the author calls the “post-conciliar view,” which means hoping that the babies will be saved while remaining agnostic about the means. This approach, it seems to me, has two serious flaws. It seems to invite hope in a kind of divine Plan B which turns out to be more effective than those means revealed to us by Jesus. Revelation, then, seems not so revealing. At the same time, precisely because whatever those means happen to be can’t be found in revelation, such hope remains necessarily vague and not particularly well-grounded.

Baptism of desire, on the other hand, identifies our grounds for hope in the Church’s sacramental practice — the practice of a sacrament instituted by Jesus Christ and declared by him to be necessary for salvation (John 3:5). I posted a brief description of my position on the question here a few weeks ago.

Apocalypse when? Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (C). November 2019.

Reflecting on this Sunday’s readings, I turned to that great source of theological wisdom, Amazon Video. In November, at the end of the liturgical year, the liturgy speaks of the Apocalypse. Well, I discovered that there are also many films on this theme. I found earthquakes, hurricanes, volcanoes–even alien invasions. And lots and lots of zombies.

The name of one film–at a discounted price–was “Apocalypse 2012.” This film provoked the question: has the Apocalypse already happened? Was I distracted and didn’t notice? As I thought about it, I remember hearing in 1999, “The end is near. At midnight, our computers will no longer work, there will be a total collapse of civilization. Buy canned food.”

From the Church of Santa Maria dell’Orazione e Morte, Rome

Then in 2012, I did an interview for an American Catholic radio program, and they asked me about the Mayan calendar. It was about to end on December 21, 2012, they said, and asked, “Is it true that the world will end? Should we buy canned food?”

Even today, when we talk about the environment—an important issue—there is often an apocalyptic element. And this element, in my opinion, probably does not help us deal with this complex problem in a sober manner.

Perhaps you are now thinking, “But, Father, are you saying that there will be no Apocalypse?” Absolutely not. The Apocalypse is a recurring theme in Jesus’ preaching, and since time of the apostles, the Church has never ceased to proclaim the urgency of being prepared for this event. There have been many false prophets who have proclaimed “the time is near,” but that does not mean we should not be prepared. Even if the Mayan astrologers were wrong about the date, our life is short.

However, with these recent examples of false prophecies, I would like to point out that in today’s culture, the idea of the Apocalypse continues to exist but has become secularized. Earthquakes, hurricanes, aliens, computers, astrologers, pollution, zombies—in all this apocalyptic talk, the one thing missing is the most important thing: Jesus Christ.

Buildings that speak to us: Homily for the dedication of the Lateran Basilica

Homily for the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica (2023).

From the cloister of St. John Lateran, Rome

The feast we celebrate today is particularly special for us in Rome. We celebrate the dedication of our cathedral. It is a magnificent building, and probably all of us have been there to appreciate the beauty of this splendid and ancient church.

The anniversaries of church dedications are important in the Church calendar because churches are the places where we gather to celebrate the Christian liturgy, the holy mysteries of salvation. Here in Rome, however, we live in an unusual situation because there are many beautiful and ancient churches–but when we enter them, often we find few of the faithful.

We should not be discouraged; instead we should remember the faithful who still speak to us through these monuments of their faith. The churches they built and left us are not mere buildings; they are their testimony. There is a message in these buildings that the saints of past times wanted to convey to us.

But more than a message, there is still a presence. When we celebrate the liturgy, we are not alone; we enter into the presence of the saints. They are with us. On November 1, we entered the season in which we remember the saints. Churches–from St. John Lateran to this little chapel–are more than museums where we learn from the past; they are places where we encounter the saints, where eternity becomes the present.

(Original: Italian)

Readings: Ez 47:1-2, 8-9, 12; 1 Cor 3:9c-11, 16-17; John 2:13-22

Gregorian University Chapel

November 9, 2023