Nativity of Our Lord & St. Gabriel Parish
  • About Us
    • New to the Parish? >
      • Registration
    • About Us >
      • Contact & Directions
      • Staff Directory
      • Bulletins
      • Parish Calendar
    • From the Pastor >
      • Last Week's Homily
      • State of the Parish & Discipleship Maker Index
    • Arch News
  • News & Events
  • Pushpay
  • Parish Life
    • The Chosen
    • ALPHA
    • Lent
    • St. Patrick’s Annual Party
    • Holy Week & Easter
  • Worship
    • Mass & Devotional Schedule
    • Sacraments >
      • Baptism
      • Reconciliation
      • Eucharist
      • Confirmation
      • Holy Orders
      • Matrimony
      • Anointing the Sick
      • Funerals
      • Sacramental Records
  • Grow
    • Religious Education
    • Adult Faith Formation >
      • OCIA
      • Adult Confirmation
      • Catholic Resources
  • Parish Schools
  • Serve
    • Ministers of Care
    • Liturgical
    • Music
  • Give

last Week’s Homily

    Fr. James Hurlbert, Pastor

    Missed Sunday’s message? Read last week’s homily from our pastor and reflect on the Gospel throughout the week.

    Archives

    August 2026
    July 2026
    June 2026
    May 2026

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

06/28/2026

6/28/2026

0 Comments

 
A t a recent priests’ convocation, one of the speakers posed a simple but important question about evangelization: What is the message people most need to hear? Where do you begin?

For a long time, much Christian preaching often began with a variation of this: “You are broken… and Jesus can fix you.” There is truth in that. We are wounded by sin, and Christ does heal. But the speaker suggested that, at least for many people today, that may not be the place to start. Why? Because so many people already feel broken.

The data on the emotional and spiritual condition of people today—especially young adults—is sobering. Rates of stress, anxiety, loneliness, and isolation continue to climb. Many carry a deep internal conviction that something is wrong with them, that they are defective somehow, that they are simply “not good enough.”

To begin there--you’re broken—can sometimes feel less like Good News and more like confirmation of their worst fears. What many people are longing to hear first is something more fundamental: You are loved.

That insight was driven home in a striking way when the speaker shared something her young adult son once told her. He said, “I don’t need to hear that God loves me. What I need is to experience it.” That stayed with me.

He wasn’t rejecting God. He wasn’t denying God. He was simply saying: If this is real, I need to know it in a way that reaches me. That may be where many people are today. Not hostile to faith. Not opposed to God. But asking: How do I know this love is real?

And that raises an important question: How might someone actually experience being loved by God? Here are a few ways:

1. Through the love of other people. Very often, God’s love is mediated through human beings. A spouse who remains faithful. A friend who listens. A parent who sacrifices. A parish community that shows up after a funeral. Someone who forgives when they had every right not to.

Think of Father’s Day. How did you experience your father’s love? Maybe he said the words. Maybe he showed up at your games. Maybe he taught you what mattered. Maybe he worked long hours to provide for the family.

Love is often communicated through presence, sacrifice, and fidelity. And sometimes, in our moments of greatest weakness—our sin, fear, failure—we encounter something even more powerful: mercy.
Human love is never perfect. But even imperfect love can become a window into divine love.

2. In prayer and silence. Sometimes people experience God’s love not through dramatic visions or extraordinary mystical moments, but through a simple awareness: I am not alone. No voices. No visions. Just a deep interior sense of being held, accompanied, or seen.

For many people, prayer can feel dry or frustrating—especially when prayers seem unanswered. Sometimes that can even feel like rejection, as though God is silent because He does not care. But silence is not absence. God often works beneath the surface, slowly, quietly. And while mystical experiences may seem rare, the truth is this: God wants to meet us in prayer.

3. Through beauty. Sometimes beauty breaks through where words cannot: Music. Nature. Art. Liturgy. The stillness of an empty church. These moments can awaken something in us—a sense that reality is not random, cold, or meaningless. Beauty has a way of opening the soul. And often, through that opening, God’s love enters.

4. Through the Eucharist and the sacraments. For Catholics, God’s love is not merely an idea or an emotion. It is sacramental—concrete, embodied, given. Many people leave Mass, Confession, or the Anointing of the Sick with a profound sense of peace, clarity, healing, or nourishment that they cannot fully explain. Something happened. Someone was there. God’s love touched them.

Last week, on the feast of the Sacred Heart, I spoke about how we access God’s love through the human heart of Jesus. And the greatest expression of that love is His death on the Cross. Now, if that doesn’t immediately move you—you are not alone. It often takes time, reflection, and prayer before the full weight of that act becomes personal. But when it does, even briefly, it leaves behind a conviction that can sustain a person for years.

Jesus says in the Gospel: “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge… even all the hairs of your head are counted.” In other words: God loves you. Not vaguely. Not abstractly. Personally. Intimately. You matter to Him. He knows you. He sees you. He has counted the hairs on your head.

That takes us back to that first step in evangelization. Perhaps today, the Gospel begins not by telling people what is wrong with them—there will be time for conversion and repentance. It begins where Jesus begins: You are seen. You are known. You are loved. And, as Jesus says, you are worth more than a thousand sparrows. And once a person truly experiences that—once they know it, not just intellectually but personally—everything else in the Gospel begins to make sense.

​– Rev. James F. Hurlbert
Picture
0 Comments

06/21/2026

6/21/2026

0 Comments

 
Picture

​A journalist once visited the Johnson Space Center in Florida to report on the state of NASA and the American space program. As he walked through the building, he noticed a man mopping the hallway and decided to ask him, somewhat facetiously, “So, what do you do here?” The man didn’t reply, “I’m a janitor.” Instead, he said, “I’m helping launch the next rocket ship to the moon.”

That answer reveals something important about mission and purpose. The janitor understood that he was part of something larger than himself. He was not merely “helping out on the sidelines.” He recognized that every successful mission depends upon many people playing different roles. Some jobs are more visible. Some seem closer to the center of the action. But no great endeavor succeeds without an entire team working together.

And you know you have a healthy organization when everyone involved feels pride and ownership in contributing to the mission. That same principle applies to the Church.

In the Gospel, Jesus calls the Twelve Apostles. They clearly held a unique and central role in the life of the early Church. Yet the mission of Christianity was never meant to rest solely upon those twelve men. The Apostles may have stood at the hub of the wheel, but countless others formed the spokes radiating outward into the world.

Those closest to the hub exercised leadership, but those farther out often had the most direct contact with ordinary people in society. The mission spread because the work belonged not only to apostles, but to the whole community of believers.

Today, the successors of the apostles are the bishops of the Church — roughly 5,600 throughout the world. If you asked a bishop, “What do you do here?” most could easily describe how their ministry connects to the mission of Jesus and the Apostles.

But bishops alone cannot carry the Gospel into every corner of daily life. Most ministry “on the ground,” where the rubber meets the road, happens elsewhere: in parishes, in schools, in hospitals, in food pantries, in homes, in workplaces, and among neighbors and friends. The list goes on…

The Church’s mission moves forward largely through ordinary believers living their faith in ordinary places.

When I was in seminary, there was a high school across the street called Carmel High School. At the time, I remember thinking it was strange to name a school after a piece of candy. Years later, while on pilgrimage in the Holy Land, I finally visited Mount Carmel — the important biblical site from which the Carmelite religious order takes its name. Only then did I learn that “Kerem El” in Hebrew means “Vineyard of the Lord.” Suddenly the name made sense.

In the Gospel, Jesus says, “The harvest is abundant, but the laborers are few.” When Jesus speaks about laborers for the harvest, He is not talking about gathering grapes or wheat. He is talking about gathering souls — the fruit growing in the Vineyard of the Lord.

And importantly, Jesus is not saying that we need more apostles or bishops. We’ll always have enough of those. And certainly, we do need more priests and deacons. We are excited, for example, about Deacon Raymond’s upcoming ordination to the priesthood and the beautiful role he will take on as a laborer in the vineyard. Priests, bishops, and deacons do carry visible and important responsibilities in the Church. But the mission belongs to everyone. Every baptized Christian has a role to play. There are no “bit parts” in the Body of Christ.

A phrase that has become increasingly common in Church circles is “co-responsibility.” Years ago, the buzzword was “empowerment.” Today the emphasis is on recognizing that the Church cannot function as a purely top-down organization where ministry is carried out only by clergy while everyone else watches from the sidelines. Our organizational chart is more horizontal than vertical.

Who is responsible for evangelization? We all are. Who is responsible for sustaining parish life? We all are. Who is responsible for works of compassion and justice? We all are. Who is responsible for proclaiming the truth of the Gospel? We all are. The Church flourishes when every member recognizes that he or she has a real share in the mission of Christ.

​Many Catholics still think of themselves as spectators rather than participants. They see the Church as something run by “them” instead of “us.” But the Gospel paints a very different picture. Through Baptism, every Christian is called into the mission. There is no insignificant role in the Vineyard of the Lord.
​
  • The person teaching children in religious education.
  • The volunteer serving at a food pantry.
  • The parishioner greeting people at the church doors.
  • The Catholic striving to live with integrity at work.
  • The neighbor offering compassion to someone who is suffering.
  • The parent teaching children how to pray.

All of it matters. All of it helps build the Kingdom of God.

Perhaps that is the mindset we need to recover in parish life today. Imagine if every Catholic walked out of church each Sunday thinking: “I’m doing the work of Jesus. I’m building the Kingdom of God.”
And if someone ever asks you, “What’s your role at that parish?” Let your answer be simple and immediate: “I’m doing the work of Jesus. I’m building the Kingdom of God.”

-Rev. James F. Hurlbert

0 Comments

06/14/2026

6/14/2026

0 Comments

 
Picture
I recently read a story by a priest who wrote about bringing Holy Communion to a dying woman in the hospital. She had not been able to attend Mass for months. Her body was failing rapidly, and by the time he arrived, she was barely conscious. Family members surrounded the bed. Machines hummed softly. The room carried that strange silence hospitals often have near the end of life.

The priest was not even sure she knew he was there.

He leaned close and whispered, “Mary, I brought you Holy Communion.” Immediately, her eyes opened. Not fully. Just enough. But her entire face changed.

With great effort, she lifted her hands slightly from the bed and tried to make the Sign of the Cross. The priest placed only a tiny fragment of the Host on her tongue.

Afterward, she closed her eyes again — peaceful now. One of her daughters began to cry and said, “She hasn’t responded to anyone all day.”

The priest later reflected that in that moment he realized again something profoundly true: deep within the human soul is a hunger nothing in this world can satisfy. Not success. Not comfort. Not entertainment. Not even the love of family. We were made for communion with God.

As it turned out, Mary died a short time after receiving that final Holy Communion — what the Church calls Viaticum, “food for the journey.”

I can relate to this story because I have witnessed similar moments countless times as a priest. Receiving Communion near the end of life often seems to revive a person for a brief time, and then bring a deep peace as they prepare to meet the Lord.

The Eucharist does something to us. It does something for us.

Which raises an important question: Why do Catholics celebrate Mass so often and receive Holy Communion so regularly? There are many reasons: We do it because at the Last Supper Jesus told us to: “Do this in memory of me.” We do it because the Mass perpetuates the saving mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection and draws us into participation in that mystery. We do it because the Eucharist fortifies the spirit, increases charity, forgives venial sins, and strengthens our relationship with God.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says something shocking: “My flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.” In other words: “I do not merely want to teach you from a distance. I want to unite Myself to you.” That is the heart of Corpus Christi. Jesus does not simply want admirers. He wants communion.

When He says, “Do this in memory of me,” He is not saying merely, “Think about me occasionally,” or “Remember my teachings.” He is saying: “Keep repeating this. Enter again and again into My sacrifice, My presence, My life.”

On the feast of Corpus Christi, we celebrate that the Creator of the universe makes Himself small enough to be received, close enough to dwell within us, loving enough to feed us with His own life. And perhaps one sign that the Eucharist truly comes from God is this: the holiest people in history never seemed to move beyond it.

The saints never “outgrew” the Mass. They became more hungry for it. Because when everything else in life is stripped away — health, strength, accomplishments, even words — the soul still recognizes Jesus when He comes near.

While Viaticum is powerful food for the final journey of the dying, the Eucharist is intended primarily for the living. It is meant for us now. In Holy Communion, Jesus Christ — Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity — comes to us physically in order to nourish us spiritually.
  • In the Eucharist, we have the same access to the Lord of the universe that the Apostles had at the Last Supper.
  • We have the same access to the saving death of Christ that the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and John had at the foot of the Cross.
  • We have the same access to the Risen Lord that Saint Thomas had when he touched the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side.

​Recently, I was reflecting on this connection while thinking about the Sacred Heart of Jesus (June is the month of the Sacred Heart.):

Last September I visited Paray-le-Monial in France, where St. Margaret Mary Alacoque received the revelations of the Sacred Heart. In the chapel where she is buried, I noticed that the tabernacle — where the Eucharist is reserved — was shaped like a heart. Even the niche holding the sanctuary candle was carved in the shape of a heart.

It struck me that the Eucharist is the Sacred Heart of Jesus reaching into our hearts. The image of the Sacred Heart shows Christ burning with love for humanity. The Eucharist is how He communicates that love personally and intimately to each one of us.

Every Holy Communion is an encounter with the Heart of Christ. And when, after receiving Communion, we become aware of our own hearts burning with love for Him, gratitude, peace, repentance, longing — we are experiencing the beginning of what we were created for.

That Communion sustains us as we live. And, God willing, that Communion will fortify us as we die.
​

-Rev. James F. Hurlbert

0 Comments

06/07/2026

6/7/2026

0 Comments

 
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

For most Christians, those words are so familiar that we can say them almost unconsciously. We begin Mass with them. We pray them before meals. We trace them over ourselves in moments of fear, gratitude, grief, or hope.

But those words are not sentimental. They are not harmless. They are words that get people in trouble.

From the crucifixion of Jesus Christ to the martyrdoms taking place in our own day, countless believers have lost their lives rather than deny the truth contained in those words. Bishop Robert Barron once posed the sobering question: “What do their deaths demand?” It is a question modern Christians should take seriously.

Christianity remains the most persecuted religion in the world. The twentieth century alone saw more Christian martyrs than all previous centuries combined. Today, more than 300 million Christians around the globe face significant hostility because of their faith, and an estimated 5,000 are killed every year simply for believing in God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

What is striking is that many Christians themselves struggle to explain the doctrine of the Trinity clearly. Why would people die for something so mysterious?

Part of the answer is that the Feast of the Holy Trinity is not exactly a “warm fuzzy” feast. Christmas surrounds us with tenderness and beauty. Easter bursts with triumph and hope. Trinity Sunday feels different. It is deeply theological. It asks us to step back and consider not primarily how God makes us feel, but who God actually is.

Last week, I reflected on how humanity seems almost genetically wired for spirituality. Across cultures and centuries, human beings consistently search for transcendence and the supernatural. We hunger for meaning beyond ourselves. But the Christian doctrine of the Trinity is not something humanity would ever have invented on its own. In fact, if we were inventing God, we probably would have come up with something much simpler and easier to explain.

The Trinity is mysterious, difficult, and ultimately beyond complete human comprehension. That is precisely why Christians call it Revelation. It is not humanity climbing its way up to discover God; it is God revealing Himself to humanity.

Imagine the human race as a person standing in a dimly lit room. We can vaguely make out shapes and outlines, but much of what we think we see is filled in by guesswork and imagination. Then, every so often, a guide briefly flashes a light. For a moment we see more clearly. Then the guide reaches for our hand and asks us to trust him as he leads us forward.

God is that guide.

Throughout salvation history, God has revealed Himself gradually and deliberately. The first flickers of light appeared in His covenant relationship with the Jewish people. The Old Testament is the story of humanity slowly, sometimes clumsily, but ultimately beautifully learning who God is and what it means to belong to Him.

Then, in Jesus Christ, the light blazed forth in a radically new way. The Light of the World took on human flesh. In Christ, God did not merely send a message; He entered human history personally.
At Pentecost, the Holy Spirit was revealed as God still actively present and at work in the world. Through the Spirit, the light of revelation continues to shine — not merely as a memory of ancient events, but as a living reality unfolding in the lives of those united to Christ through baptism.

And somehow, this revelation is subversive. It provokes resistance and hostility.

Truth is never neutral in the cosmic struggle between good and evil. So if God truly reveals Himself, then the powers opposed to God will react. That opposition sometimes erupts into violent persecution. More often in our culture, it takes subtler forms: dismissal, ridicule, marginalization, pressure to keep faith private, or the insistence that religion is merely a hobby rather than a claim about ultimate reality.

Most Christians in the West are unlikely to face martyrdom. But many experience what could be called “soft persecution” — the steady cultural pressure to silence conviction and conform belief to the spirit of the age.

The next time you trace the sign of the cross over yourself, remember what you are saying. You are not merely blessing yourself or performing a ritual gesture. You are declaring allegiance. You are placing yourself under the name of the Triune God. You are putting on spiritual armor.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Throughout history, these words have carried consequences.
​

They still do.
​

-Rev. James F. Hurlbert
Picture
0 Comments
Picture

CONTACT US

Parish Office
653 West 37th Street
Chicago, IL 60609
773-927-6263
Email the Office
Directions

St. Gabriel Church
Corner​ of Lowe and 45th Street
Chicago, IL 60609
Directions

Nativity of Our Lord Church
Corner​ of Union and 37th Street
Chicago, IL 60609
Directions

Quick Links

Mass Schedule
Contact & Directions
Bulletins
New to the Parish?
Make a Gift
Registration
Sacramental Records
Parish Calendar

Connect With Us

Search our site


Picture
Site powered by The Archdiocese of Chicago
© Nativity of Our Lord & St. Gabriel Parish
  • About Us
    • New to the Parish? >
      • Registration
    • About Us >
      • Contact & Directions
      • Staff Directory
      • Bulletins
      • Parish Calendar
    • From the Pastor >
      • Last Week's Homily
      • State of the Parish & Discipleship Maker Index
    • Arch News
  • News & Events
  • Pushpay
  • Parish Life
    • The Chosen
    • ALPHA
    • Lent
    • St. Patrick’s Annual Party
    • Holy Week & Easter
  • Worship
    • Mass & Devotional Schedule
    • Sacraments >
      • Baptism
      • Reconciliation
      • Eucharist
      • Confirmation
      • Holy Orders
      • Matrimony
      • Anointing the Sick
      • Funerals
      • Sacramental Records
  • Grow
    • Religious Education
    • Adult Faith Formation >
      • OCIA
      • Adult Confirmation
      • Catholic Resources
  • Parish Schools
  • Serve
    • Ministers of Care
    • Liturgical
    • Music
  • Give