OCTOBER 20, 2026 FATHER FRANCIS SALASIAR
A man went to visit a friend who had recently moved into a new house. When he arrived, he noticed that every light in the house was turned on. He asked his friend, “Why do you have all the lights on? Are you expecting a lot of guests?” “No,” his friend replied. “I’m waiting for someone very important.”
The man asked, “Who?” “My wife”, the friend replied. The man looked at the clock and said, “But she isn’t coming home until this evening. Why are you already waiting for her?” The friend smiled and said, “When someone you love is coming home, you don’t wait until you hear the door. You get ready beforehand.”
This little interaction captures the heart of today’s Gospel. Jesus says, “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit.” He is talking about readiness. But Christian readiness is not about living nervously, wondering when something is going to happen. It is about living with an attentive heart because we know that someone we love is coming—Christ Himself.
Jesus gives us the picture of servants waiting for their master to return from a wedding banquet. In those days, you could not simply check your phone and know exactly when the master would be home. The wedding celebration might continue for hours or even days. The servants did not know whether he would arrive in the evening, at midnight, or in the early hours of the morning.
So, they had to remain ready. Their lamps had to be burning. Their clothes had to be arranged so they could move quickly. They had to listen for the knock on the door. And then Jesus says something surprising.
When the master finally comes and finds his servants awake, instead of sitting down and asking them to serve him, he does something completely unexpected. He prepares a meal, has them sit down, and serves them. Think about that for a moment. The master becomes the servant. That is the kind of Lord we have. Jesus is not simply asking us, “Are you ready for me?” He is also revealing what kind of God is coming to meet us. He is the Lord who serves. He is the Lord who feeds. He is the Lord who comes not to burden us, but to bring us home.
And that brings us beautifully to St. Paul’s words in the first reading. Paul reminds the Ephesians of what their lives were like before they knew Christ. He says they were “without Christ,” “strangers to the covenants of promise,” “without hope,” and “without God in the world.”
Most of us know what it feels like to be a stranger. Think of the first time you walked into a new workplace, a new school, or even a new parish where you didn’t know anybody. Everyone else seems to know where to go, whom to talk to, and what is happening. You stand there wondering, “Where do I fit in?”
Being a stranger can be a lonely experience. Paul says that this was our condition spiritually. We were far from God. We did not know where we belonged. But then comes one of the most beautiful phrases in the reading: “But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near.” That is the heart of our faith. We were far away, but Christ brought us near. We were strangers, but Christ made us members of God’s household. We were divided, but Christ “has broken down the dividing wall of hostility.”
We know how easily walls can appear in our lives. Sometimes they are obvious—between families, communities, cultures, generations, or different groups of people. Sometimes the walls are much more personal. A disagreement becomes a wall. A hurt becomes a wall. A misunderstanding becomes a wall. Someone says something that hurts us, and we slowly withdraw. We stop talking. We stop listening. Eventually, two people can live under the same roof and still feel like strangers.
In such moments, our lamp begins to go out. And that is why Jesus says, “Keep your lamps lit.” Being spiritually awake doesn’t mean being anxious all the time. It means paying attention. Often, we wait for God to do something dramatic, while God is quietly coming to us through the people and circumstances every day of our lives. He comes in prayer. He comes in the Eucharist. He comes in His Word. He comes through the person who needs our kindness. He comes through the opportunity to reconcile. He comes through the ordinary moments of life where we are invited to love a little more, forgive a little more, and serve a little more.
So, dear brothers and sisters, Paul reminds us today that we are no longer strangers. Through Christ, we have been brought near. We belong to God’s household. And Jesus tells us to live like people who know where they belong. So let us keep our lamps burning. Let us keep our hearts open. Let us allow Christ to break down the walls that separate us from God and from one another. And when the Lord comes, may He find us awake—not frightened, but faithful; not anxious, but hopeful; not simply waiting, but serving. Because the wonderful surprise of today’s Gospel is this: when the Master comes, He does not come merely to be served. He comes to serve us. And He comes to remind us that we are not strangers anymore. We belong to Him.
