From Father Steven - January 4, 2026

Father Steven Clemence • January 2, 2026

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,


“We three kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we traverse afar.” This is a well-known song that we sing and hear every year during this season. Yet, I wonder how often we pause to reflect on the meaning of these words. As we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany this weekend, I would like to reflect on three aspects of the Magi: they left their homes, they traveled from afar, and they returned by a different way.


There are many traditions and even myths surrounding the wise men. Were they truly kings? Were they astronomers? Where did they come from? What gifts did they bring? When exactly did they arrive in Bethlehem? While many of these questions remain open to speculation, there are a few things we know for certain. As the song reminds us, they were men who journeyed from afar, bearing gifts for the Christ Child. Perhaps we imagine their journey in modern terms: three men meeting at an airport, boarding a plane to Israel, then taking a transfer or an Uber while following a GPS pin to the child. But in reality, their journey was nothing like that. These men risked their lives. They faced the harsh elements of the desert and the many dangers of the road—wild animals, bandits, and countless unknowns. They had to renounce the comfort of their homes and the security of familiarity. Yet they were confident in the sign they had seen in the sky. They were people attentive to God, waiting for a word that would point them in the right direction. Pope Benedict XVI once reflected on this profound moment, saying: “The Magi set out because of a deep desire which prompted them to leave everything and begin a journey. It was as though they had always been waiting for that star. It was as if the journey had always been part of their destiny, and was finally about to begin.”


As beautiful and inspiring as their story is, we are invited to place ourselves within it. What if we were among them? Would we spend long hours searching for a sign from God? Would we be willing to leave behind the comfort of our lives to begin such a journey? What would we be willing to risk in order to encounter the Messiah face to face? These are questions worth asking, because God desires to reveal himself—have an epiphany—in our lives every day. The real question is whether we desire it enough: what we are willing to leave behind, and whether we are willing to face the challenges that come with following him.


Each day we bring many intentions before God. Certain situations reveal our lack of charity, our pride, or other sins, prompting us—after honest examination—to ask God for help. The same can be said of any vice or weakness. Yet the question remains: how far are we willing to go to grow in humility, charity, and holiness? The Magi understood that without the Messiah, everything else lost its meaning. Without a personal encounter with Jesus, all the riches of the world amounted to nothing. They seemed to know this deeply. But do we? Once again, Pope Benedict offers guidance: “The better you know Jesus, the more his mystery attracts you. The more you discover him, the more you are moved to seek him. This is a movement of the Spirit which lasts throughout life.”


We also know that the Magi “returned to their own country by a different way.” Their story did not end in Bethlehem; they still had a long journey home, facing the same dangers once more. This time, however, they no longer followed a star. After encountering Christ, the light now lived within them. Later, Jesus would affirm this truth when he said that we are the light of the world. In baptism, we too receive the light of Christ. Pope Benedict describes the Magi’s new mission in these words: “Their task was to guard and nourish it in the constant memory of Christ, of his Holy Face, of his ineffable Love.” This is the mission of every Christian. And I would go even further: we are not only called to guard and nourish the love of God within us—we are also called to spread that love to all those around us.



God Bless,

Fr. Steven

 

 

From Father Steven - May 17, 2026

By Father Steven Clemence • May 15, 2026
Dear Brothers and Sisters, This weekend we celebrate the ordination of Father Javier! It is always a great privilege for us to witness the transformation of a young man into a priest, a servant of God configured to Christ. This weekend, I would like to reflect with you on the different vocations to which God calls His people. The first vocation, as we see in the Book of Genesis, is matrimony. We hear that God created man and woman to complement one another. “It is not good for the man to be alone.” Therefore, it is natural for a man and a woman to be united in marriage. However, marriage is not about seeking the satisfaction of one’s own needs in another person. Rather, the sacrament of matrimony is a sacrament of self-giving and service. Husband and wife are called to serve one another in love. Matrimony is defined as “the covenant by which a man and a woman establish between themselves a partnership of the whole of life, and which is ORDERED TOWARD THE GOOD OF THE SPOUSES and the procreation and education of offspring; this covenant between baptized persons has been raised by Christ the Lord to the dignity of a sacrament” (Canon 1055 §1). Marriage, then, is a path by which God sanctifies us through self-giving love, just as Christ gave Himself for us. Spouses become a gift to one another, and it is in this gift of self that true joy is found. Some people receive a different call. If it is natural for a man and woman to be united to one another, then it is supernatural for a person to be united entirely to God. The religious vocation anticipates the reality of heaven by seeking union with God already in this life. One can be called to become “eunuchs for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven,” living celibacy for the love of God and His Kingdom. This includes consecrated virgins who live in the world while dedicating their lives entirely to the Lord and those who do not get married. Others are called to religious life as sisters, nuns, brothers, or monks. There are many religious communities and institutes through which a person is consecrated to God according to a particular charism or mission. Some are called to serve through teaching, serving the poor, caring for the sick or children, immigrants, or those most in need. There are also contemplative communities whose principal work is prayer and total dedication to the Lord, often lived in cloistered monasteries. Finally, we also have the priestly vocation. This call invites men to act in the person of Christ the Head ( in persona Christi capitis ) in the world. Through ordination, a man is configured in a profound way to Jesus Christ. This does not mean that the individual ceases to be himself; rather, by the grace of God, he is united to Christ in a unique and sacramental way. The priesthood is not only for a select few. Many saints throughout history have spoken about how God calls many men to this vocation. Sometimes there is hesitation because a person feels unworthy or inadequate. Yet throughout Scripture we see that God often chooses ordinary people with weaknesses and imperfections. The Apostles and the saints were not extraordinary because of their own abilities, but because they allowed God’s grace to work through them. As the saying goes, God does not call the qualified; He qualifies the called. As you can see in Fr. Gabriel, Fr. Victor, and myself, we are very ordinary and imperfect men. It is the grace of God that enables us to do what we do. A man may feel incapable of becoming a priest or discouraged by his sins and limitations. Yet, just as Peter told Jesus, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man,” we remember that it is not we who choose Christ, but Christ who chooses us. Ultimately, our primary vocation is holiness. We are all called to become saints. The particular path we take—whether marriage, religious or single life, or priesthood—is secondary to the greater call to holiness. Those called to matrimony are called to holy matrimony, to become holy husbands and holy wives. Those called to religious life are called to become holy sisters, brothers, monks, and consecrated virgins. Those called to the priesthood are called to become holy priests. Each vocation is not an end in itself, but a path by which we are led to heaven and united more fully with God. God Bless, Fr. Steven

From Father Steven - May 10, 2026

By Father Steven Clemence • May 8, 2026
Dear Brothers and Sisters, Since leaving high school, I do not think I had ever opened the Britannica Encyclopedia again. Yet while preparing for this weekend’s theme, I came across a very interesting entry: Mother’s Day. I had never really wondered how this celebration began. After doing some research, I discovered how it developed through different cultures and times, including a tradition in England when the faithful would visit the church where they had been baptized — their “mother church.” The modern observance of Mother’s Day traces back to Anna Jarvis, who honored her mother, Anna Jarvis, in 1908. After the Civil War, Anna Jarvis promoted reconciliation between Union and Confederate veterans. One day, she offered a prayer during Sunday school that her daughter never forgot: “I hope and pray that someone, sometime, will found a memorial Mother’s Day commemorating her for the matchless service she renders to humanity in every field of life.” Those words remained deeply in her daughter’s heart. After her mother’s death, Anna Jarvis began advocating for a special day dedicated to honoring mothers. In 1908, the first Mother’s Day service was held at her mother’s church in West Virginia. A few years later, every state celebrated Mother’s Day, until President Wilson declared it a national holiday. In many ways, the figure of a mother resembles Christ Himself, who “came not to be served, but to serve.” Mothers are often behind the scenes, taking the last place and putting the needs of others before their own. Much of their hard work and countless sacrifices may go unnoticed, yet God, “who sees in secret, will repay you.” Certainly, it feels good to receive recognition and praise, but our first calling is to please God. Jesus commands us to love one another as He has loved us, and He says nothing about seeking recognition. In fact, throughout the Scriptures, Jesus repeatedly avoids drawing attention to Himself. Many times, He even tells people not to speak about what He has done. In our digital age, when people often share everything publicly, Jesus reminds us of the beauty of doing good quietly and humbly. The Gospel also tells us that the Son of Man came to serve and “to give His life.” In a similar way, mothers are constantly giving their lives for others. The sacrifice of self-denial is among the greatest acts of love. Just as Christ died so that we might live, mothers often deny themselves so that others may flourish. Whether it is caring for the home, cooking, cleaning, gardening, helping the children, finding everything for everyone, or all of the above, their daily sacrifices make an enormous difference, even when they go unnoticed. Therefore, regardless of our age, let us take a moment to reflect on how often our mothers denied themselves for our sake. Let us remember all they have done in loving service to us. They may not have been perfect, but in most cases, they gave us way more than their best. Today, inspired by Anna Jarvis, let us honor mothers “for the matchless service [they render] to humanity in every field of life.” To all mothers — those here on earth and those already in heaven — THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.  God Bless, Fr. Steven