Monday of the Sixteenth Week in Ordinary Time

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Today's readings invite us to reflect on what truly matters to God. In the First Reading, the prophet Micah delivers a powerful message, almost like a courtroom plea from God to His people. 'O my people,' the Lord asks, 'what have I done to you, or how have I wearied you? Answer me!' And then, the people ask, 'With what shall I come before the LORD, and bow before God most high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old?' They wonder if grand gestures, elaborate sacrifices, or even giving their first-born, are what God truly desires.

But God's answer, through Micah, is clear and profound: 'You have been told, O man, what is good, and what the LORD requires of you: Only to do the right and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.' It's not about outward show or grand sacrifice, but about the posture of our hearts: justice, kindness, and humility.

Then, in the Gospel, we hear Jesus respond to the scribes and Pharisees who demand a 'sign' from him. They are looking for something spectacular, something to prove his authority. But Jesus tells them that 'no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah the prophet.' He points to his own future resurrection, a sign not of earthly power, but of divine love and ultimate triumph over death. He speaks of something 'greater than Jonah' and 'greater than Solomon' right there among them – Himself, the embodiment of God’s wisdom and saving power.

What does this mean for us today, as we gather, especially those of us who carry the weight of loss, the ache of missing our dear Benjamin?

Ben, in his fifteen years, showed us what it means to 'do the right and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God.' We remember his boundless curiosity, his brilliant mind that explored the cutting edge of technology, and his deep passion for aviation. He found joy in learning, in understanding the world around him. But beneath that sharp intellect was a gentle heart, a profound empathy, and a deep respect for his parents. He wasn't seeking grand signs or outward displays; he simply lived with an open heart, embracing the goodness in life and sharing it with those he loved.

Ben's life, though not measured in years as we might wish, was a testament to the quiet power of goodness and love. He didn't need a sign from heaven to believe; he lived in the quiet conviction of love and joy, shared with his 'perfect four' – his Dad, Mom, and younger brother Ryan. He reminds us that God is not looking for dramatic proof, but for hearts that are humble, kind, and just. He reminds us that the greatest 'sign' we can offer is a life lived in love.

To Alan and Thao, to Ryan, and to all of Ben's family and friends, and to every family carrying a heavy cross, to every child who is suffering: know that God sees your humble walk, your love, your goodness, even in the midst of sorrow. He doesn't ask for grand sacrifices, but for your heart. And He gives you, in return, the promise of His saving power, a power 'greater than Jonah,' greater than any earthly wisdom, found in Christ's resurrection. May you find comfort and strength in this truth, knowing that Benjamin is walking humbly with God, in eternal goodness and love.