Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Luke 1:39-56 Mary’s Glory, Our Future: A Feast of Joy and Promise
Today we celebrate a feast of hope, joy, and tenderness—the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It is a celebration that speaks to the deepest longings of the human heart: to be loved, to be remembered, and to find a home in God.
On November 1, 1950, Pope Pius XII solemnly declared that Mary, “having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.” This dogma was not invented out of thin air. It flowed from centuries of faith, of the love and devotion of God’s people. The faithful had long believed and sung of Mary’s glory, and the Church, in its wisdom, listened to this voice of the People of God. That is how dogma matures—from the heart of the Church that prays.
Mary’s Assumption is not just about her; it is about us. It tells us something beautiful: in God, there is room for humanity. Mary, fully human, now shares fully in divine glory. Her body—so small, so vulnerable, the same body that carried Jesus—is now in Heaven. God does not discard what is weak; He lifts it up.
Mary is not far away. She is not lost in the stars. No, she is close—very close to us. Being united with God does not distance her from us; it brings her nearer. She listens to us. She accompanies us. She embraces us with a heart that reflects the very heart of God.
The Gospel today reminds us of her secret: “Blessed is she who believed.” Mary believed in God’s promises. Her Magnificat—her song of joy—sprang from her trust that God acts in history, that He remembers the lowly, that His mercy is forever. She opened her life completely to God’s plan. And in doing so, she became the Ark of the New Covenant—the true dwelling of God among us.
Mary’s Assumption tells us: where she has gone, we too are called to go. It is a sign of hope for all of us. She reminds us that our lives are not meaningless journeys, but pilgrimages toward a home—a home where we are already expected, already loved. God waits for us. He is not a distant judge, but a loving Father who has prepared a place for His children.
But there is more. If in God there is room for humanity, then in us there must also be room for God. Mary shows us how to make space in our lives: through faith, through listening, through saying, “Let it be done to me.” She teaches us that opening ourselves to God makes our lives larger, not smaller.
So today, let us entrust ourselves to her maternal intercession. Let her teach us to hope. Let her lead us closer to Jesus. And may our hearts, like hers, become dwelling places for God—a God who loves, who saves, and who waits for us. Amen.
今天，8月14日，我們聖馬希連·國柏（Saint Maximilian Kolbe）的紀念日，他英勇地實踐這個真理。國柏（Kolbe）是方濟各會，是傳教士，他被納粹逮捕，被關押在奧斯威辛集中營（Auschwitz）。那時候，有一個同他一起被關押的囚犯被判處死刑，國柏自願替代他 —— 一個完全陌生的人。他這樣做，不是出於憤怒或報復，而是出於愛。在這充滿仇恨的地獄之地，他選擇福音教導的寬恕和犧牲。
今天，8月14日，我们圣马希连·国柏（Saint Maximilian Kolbe）的纪念日，他英勇地实践这个真理。国柏（Kolbe）是方济各会，是传教士，他被纳粹逮捕，被关押在奥斯威辛集中营（Auschwitz）。那时候，有一个同他一起被关押的囚犯被判处死刑，国柏自愿替代他 —— 一个完全陌生的人。他这样做，不是出于愤怒或报复，而是出于爱。在这充满仇恨的地狱之地，他选择福音教导的宽恕和牺牲。
Memorial of Saint Maximilian Kolbe, Priest and Martyr Matthew 18:21-19:1 Forgiveness – The Key that Opens Heaven
In today’s Gospel, Peter asks Jesus, “How many times must I forgive? Seven times?” Jesus replies, “Not seven, but seventy times seven” (Mt 18:22)—a Hebrew way of saying: always. Forgiveness is not a rule to follow occasionally; it is the very heartbeat of Christian life.
But how do we forgive from the heart when the hurt runs deep? Jesus knows the difficulty of this call. That’s why He gives us the parable of the unforgiving servant—to show that forgiveness is not optional. If we want to receive mercy, we must offer it too.
This truth was lived heroically by Saint Maximilian Kolbe, whose feast we celebrate on August 14. A Franciscan friar and missionary, Kolbe was arrested by the Nazis and imprisoned in Auschwitz. When a fellow prisoner was sentenced to death, Kolbe volunteered to take his place—a total stranger. He did so not out of anger or revenge, but out of love. In that hellish place of hatred, he chose the Gospel of forgiveness and sacrifice.
Even in the starvation bunker, Kolbe prayed and led the condemned in hymns until the very end. He bore no hatred for his captors. His actions remind us that forgiveness is not weakness—it is the strongest form of love. Kolbe forgave with his life.
Jesus tells us: before you approach the altar, reconcile with your brother. The Eucharist is not compatible with resentment. Forgiveness is the door to communion—with God and one another.
So before we seek forgiveness in confession, we must ask: Do I forgive? The answer shapes our eternity.
May Saint Maximilian Kolbe, who mirrored Christ’s mercy to the point of death, intercede for us. And may Mary, Mother of Mercy, help us choose forgiveness over hatred, love over revenge—every single time.
Wednesday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time Or Optional Memorial of Saint Pontian, Pope and Martyr, and Saint Hippolytus, Priest and Martyr Matthew 18:15-20 Face to face – the courage of fraternal correction”
Today’s Gospel teaches us something bold and deeply countercultural: the grace of fraternal correction. Jesus tells us that when a brother or sister sins against us, we are called to speak to them directly, in love—not to gossip, not to seethe in silence, not to plot revenge, but to approach them face to face.
This is one of the most demanding acts of charity, because it calls for truth and tenderness in equal measure. It’s much easier to talk about someone than to them. Gossip feels safe, but it damages both the speaker and the community. It divides, wounds, and spreads scandal. As St. Bernard warned, idle curiosity and careless words are steps not toward virtue, but toward pride and ruin.
Jesus offers us another path: compassionate courage. If someone wrongs you, go first to them—just the two of you—and speak with humility. If that doesn’t work, seek help from others—not gossips, but those who truly care. And if still unresolved, bring it to the community—not to shame, but to heal, with open arms rather than pointing fingers.
This Gospel invites us to examine our hearts: When I am hurt, do I store up bitterness? Do I talk behind someone’s back, or do I have the courage to speak with love and clarity? Does my community restore the fallen, or quietly reject them?
Fraternal correction is not about being right. It’s about being rooted in love, desiring the good of the other, and keeping the community whole. True correction is never condemnation—it is invitation: to return, to reconcile, to begin again.
May Mary, who stood by her Son even when the world condemned Him, teach us how to correct with mercy, and always choose the path of love.
全属于祢 
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