Fr. Brian Soliven Sermons

There is something oddly invigorating about discovering that one is not the center of the universe. It is rather like opening a window and discovering, to your astonishment, that the world goes on quite well without your personal supervision. This, I believe, is the beginning of wisdom – and the birthplace of humility.Now, humility is not what the modern man imagines it to be. He thinks it a sort of sad apology for existing, a miserable muttering of “I’m not good enough”. But true humility is not thinking less of oneself – it is thinking of oneself less, because one is too busy being stunned by the glory of God. It is precisely in the Catholic spiritual life, that narrow path which twists like a mountain road where humility is not merely a virtue but a necessity. We are attempting the unthinkable: union with God. And in this adventure towards Him, self-importance and our “machismo” ego  is not only ludicrous; it is lethal.Saint John of the Cross, that severe and splendid mystic, understood this with mathematical precision. In his Ascent of Mount Carmel, he teaches us that the soul must be stripped of every attachment. One must walk, he says, nada, nada, nada – nothing, nothing, nothing. A man cannot be filled with God if he is already full of himself.St. Teresa of Avila, for all her heavenly visions, was hilariously human. She once complained to God, when thrown from her donkey, “If this is how You treat Your friends, no wonder You have so few.” And yet, in her Interior Castle, she tells us that humility is the mortar that holds the whole soul together. It is not in the ecstasies or raptures that the soul grows, but in the quiet, daily acceptance of its littleness. In knowing, quite simply, that we are creatures and that God is not.It is the great paradox of Christianity that as a man shrinks, he grows. The ladder to heaven begins with a step down. The saints are not giants of will, they are beggars of grace. They have ceased to build Babels and have instead begun to whisper in prayer. The devil fell by pride; the angels rose by obedience. We do not ascend to God by building towers, but by descending into ourselves and finding there – not thrones – but dust.The modern world is filled with slogans urging us to believe in ourselves. But the saints urge us to believe in something far greater: in Him who believed in us first, while we were yet sinners. They urge us to laugh at our own egos and to bend our knees, not as slaves, but as lovers.  --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In a world overwhelmed by noise, haste, and the shadows of anxiety, we are called to stay awake. Not merely with open eyes, but with hearts attuned to the presence of Christ. The world tempts us to distraction, to forgetfulness of the eternal, yet Jesus stands quietly at the door of our soul, waiting to be received. To stay awake means to live in vigilant faith, to guard the light within, and not allow the cares of the day to extinguish the flame of hope. Let us not be lulled to sleep by fear or consumed by the fleeting, but rather be anchored in the peace that only Christ can give. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

When we encounter the mercy of Jesus firsthand, when we truly grasp how deeply we are loved and forgiven despite our flaws, it changes us. His grace softens the edges of our judgment and replaces pride with compassion. We begin to see others not as problems to fix, but as people to love. The faults in others no longer provoke frustration, but invite empathy, because we remember our own need for mercy. And in that remembering, we learn to extend the same gentle kindness that was so freely given to us. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

***At the end, the last five minutes is a bonus hymn from our 10AM Holy Mass***We moderns have so arranged our religious instincts that we think the divine voice must always sound like a lullaby, when in fact it often sounds like a trumpet. We wish to hear of lilies and sparrows, forgetting that even lilies toil and sparrows fall. So when Christ, with the thunder of truth behind His quiet Galilean voice, declares: “Strive to enter by the narrow gate”, we are brought to a sudden and sobering attention. It is the call not of consolation, but of combat.It is the strange and startling reality of Christianity that it begins with a paradox and ends with a challenge. The paradox is that the gate to life is narrow, while destruction’s road is spacious and easy. The challenge is that we must strive—not drift, not dawdle, not meander—but strive, as one who sweats in the effort to reach something worth attaining. The narrow gate does not admit the flabby soul or couch potato. It is a door carved not in comfort, but in courage.The narrow gate is hard because it is honest. It makes no allowance for pretension. One cannot swagger through it, carrying the weight of vanity or the baggage of pride. It allows no masks, for it was carved by Him who sees the inner hidden heart. We must stoop to enter it. The tall towers of self-importance will not pass through. The narrow gate is entered singly, like birth and death.And yet, what joy is hidden in this austere invitation! For though it is narrow, it is not closed. Though it is small, it is open to all. The child can pass through as well as the philosopher. The thief on the cross passed through it in the final hour. It is not guarded by angels with flaming swords, but by truth and repentance. That is why the striving is not the striving of the proud, but of the penitent.There are those who say the world has grown too wide for such a narrow gate. But I say it is precisely because the world is so wide and wild that we need that slender doorway more than ever. The soul must have a compass. The heart must have a harbor. In an age that flings itself into every appetite, it is the narrow gate that preserves “God's image and likeness” in each of us. So then, let us strive—not with clenched fists, but with open hands. Let us strive to surrender, which is the most paradoxical of all efforts. For in striving to enter the narrow gate, we are not striving to become less, but more truly ourselves—less stuffed with shadows, and more filled with light. We are not constricted, but released.Christ’s words are not the locked door of a vault, but the narrow entrance to a kingdom beyond all imagining. And if it is hard to enter, it is only because Heaven is too large to fit through the doorway of the ego.  Let us bow low. And then, let us walk through. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Humility is the heartbeat of every Christ-centered relationship, reflecting the very nature of Jesus, who though He was God chose to serve rather than be served. In light of His example, humility allows us to love without pride, listen without judgment, and forgive without hesitation. It softens our hearts, making space for grace to flourish between us. When we approach others with humility, we mirror the gentleness of Christ, building relationships not on ego or control, but on compassion, patience, and mutual respect. True strength in relationships is found not in being right, but in being Christlike. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

God longs to throw a wedding feast for humanity—a celebration of love, joy, and eternal union. In His heart burns a divine desire to gather us, not as strangers or servants, but as beloved guests at His table. Like a bridegroom preparing for his bride, He adorns heaven with beauty and grace, waiting for each soul to accept His invitation. This feast is not just a promise of the future—it’s a reflection of His relentless pursuit of our hearts, a reminder that we were created not for fear or distance, but for communion, celebration, and everlasting love. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In the unspeakable darkness of the Nazi concentration camps of World War II, Viktor Frankl famously said, “What is to give light must endure burning.” It is a line that glows with quiet terror—and truth. For there is no true light in this world that has not come through some flame. Even stars must burn to shine. In order for something to be luminous or radiant warmth, it must die to itself. It is written in the very laws of thermodynamics. The price to enjoy life on earth, for example, our sun must spend itself: in 5 billion years it will phase into a Red Giant as it exhausts its hydrogen, then into a Planetary Nebula, and finally into a White Dwarf, slowly cooling off into oblivion. And so it is with souls.Christ Himself declares today in this Sunday’s Gospel passage, “I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” Not the fire of destruction, but the fire of love—fierce, purifying, and sacrificial. It is the fire of a heart ablaze, the fire of the Cross, where God gave not just light, but Himself. There is a truth so beautifully strange and yet so profoundly simple that it might be mistaken for folly by the wisdom of the world. It is the great Christian paradox: that we find our true selves not by grasping tighter, but by dying entirely; that the road to life is paved by the death of our egotistical desires.In an age that celebrates the self as king, the notion of dying to one’s own needs and ambitions seems almost absurd. Yet this is precisely the wisdom that Christianity proclaims with a joyful boldness. We are invited to a paradoxical journey where losing our life in the service of others is the very means by which we gain it. “He who loses his life for my sake,” said Christ, “will find it.” Think of it: the ego, that restless tyrant demanding attention, acclaim, and self-preservation, must be dethroned. It is only when we say “No” to our selfish cravings that we open the door to a fuller, richer life. This is not a diminishment but a liberation—a liberation from the chains of the self that bind us to loneliness, fear, and despair.Like a candle that burns itself to give light, or a seed that falls into the earth to rise in newness, the Christian life calls us to die to self so that we may truly live. This death is not a bleak end but a joyful transformation. The gift of ourselves—freely given, without calculation—is the very thing that reveals the depth and dignity of our souls. And here lies the great wonder: in the giving of ourselves, we are given to ourselves in return. The self that seemed so fragile and fleeting is made eternal in the embrace of grace. It is a truth that will bring this fire upon the earth.     --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The Catholic teaching of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into Heaven reminds us of the sacred dignity and eternal destiny of the human body. Mary, taken body and soul into heavenly glory, reveals the fullness of God's promise to humanity—that our bodies, not just our souls, are destined for resurrection and glory. Her Assumption is a sign of hope for all believers, showing that through God's grace, our earthly lives and bodies are not meaningless or discarded, but will one day be transformed. It calls us to honor the body as a temple of the Holy Spirit and to live in joyful expectation of our own share in the resurrection. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

St. Maximilian Kolbe demonstrated a powerful witness of love through his ultimate act of self-sacrifice at Auschwitz, where he volunteered to die in place of another prisoner—a stranger and a father. Motivated by his deep faith and devotion to Christ and the Virgin Mary, Kolbe’s love transcended fear and self-preservation, embodying the Gospel’s call to lay down one's life for others. His martyrdom stands as a radiant testament to the power of selfless love, even in the face of unimaginable evil. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

We must remember, as Moses stood on the heights of Mount Nebo, gazing upon a land he would never tread, that the promise of God is not always the path we walk but the purpose He weaves. It is a strange comfort, is it not, that the man who led so faithfully was withheld from the reward he seemed to earn? Yet here lies the greater mystery -- God had something even better in store.  --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Moses, like a mighty mountain casting its last long shadow over the trembling plains, closes the book of Deuteronomy not with the wearied groans of a man defeated, but with the triumphant thunder of a prophet who has seen the Promised Land. There is something oddly divine in his departure—this leader who once stammered now speaks in soaring poetry, blessing tribes like a bard whose soul burns with the fire of God. His farewell is not merely a curtain-call, but the last great note of a symphony that has wandered through wilderness and rebellion, now rising into the solemn music of destiny. He dies, as all true heroes must, just before the victory—because the glory, like all good things, is not for the servant, but for the service. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

***Bonus hymn at the end of the homily from the 10AM Mass***In rural Vacaville, we are familiar with the cry of the rooster crows, as the stars have already blinked out of the sky and a new day is at hand and yet, we are always surprised by morning. So it shall be with the coming of the Son of Man. There is a great paradox in this age, a thing so blindingly obvious that only a modern man could miss it. We prepare for every uncertain thing—storms, exams, pensions, and the possibility of rain on a picnic—but we are scandalously unprepared for the one certain thing: that Christ shall come again in glory, and His kingdom shall have no end.Now, if you tell a man on the street that Jesus might return this afternoon, he will smile in pity or smirk in cynicism. But tell him his phone battery might die before lunch, and he will run for a charger. We are a race that believes more fervently in the failure of lithium than in the triumph of the Lamb. And yet, the trumpet shall sound.Our Lord warns in the Gospel this Sunday, “Watch therefore, for you do not know the day nor the hour.” He did not say this to make us nervous, like students awaiting an unannounced quiz. He said it because Heaven is not a theory—it is a wedding. And no one should be caught unwashed and half-dressed when the Bridegroom knocks. I tell you, the world is not a waiting room; it is a battleground, a vineyard, and a bridal chamber all at once. It is not that we have too little time to prepare, but too much noise to remember that time runs out. We are not meant to guess the hour. We are meant to be ready in every hour.It is a curious thing that when the early Christians spoke of the Second Coming, they did not wring their hands, but lifted their heads. “Maranatha,” they cried—not with fear, but with fire. Come, Lord Jesus! The Church was not built by those who played at religion in peacetime, but by saints who stood watch in the dark, their lamps burning, like loyal soldiers awaiting the return of their general.And what if He does not return today? Then we live today as if He might—for that is what it means to live in hope. Hope is not wishing upon stars; it is keeping your boots laced and your heart clean because you know the King will ride through the mist. Do not be lulled by the delay. The world will lull you with distractions, with duties, with deadlines, with dopamine. It will whisper, “He delays His coming.” But Christ’s return is not late. It is sudden. When He comes, the masquerade of modernity will be torn like a stage curtain, and the souls of men will be revealed—naked in shame or clothed in glory. Therefore, I say to you: keep your soul in a state of readiness. Not with anxiety, but with awe. Not with fear, but with fervor.Feed the hungry. Forgive your enemies. Light your lamp. Love your Lord. For when the trumpet sounds, there will be no time to put oil in the lamp. And yet—oh, glorious paradox!—it is today that He knocks. In the beggar. In the Word. In the still small voice. The Second Coming may be closer than we think. Are you ready?   --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

It is a curious thing, and wholly divine, that the tiniest speck of true faith—no larger than a mustard seed, Our Lord tells us—can upheave mountains and send them staggering into the sea. The world worships size, power, and spectacle, yet it is Heaven that smiles upon the small. A mustard seed is a laughably small thing, and yet it holds within it a forest in potential, a kingdom in miniature. So it is with faith. It is not the pomp of religion nor the parade of certainty that moves the hand of God, but the trembling trust of the soul that dares to believe, even while surrounded by shadows. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In the trials and tempests of life, we are called not to fear, but to trust ever more deeply in the Lord, who never abandons His children. Just as Christ slept peacefully in the boat amidst the storm, so too must we place our confidence in Him, knowing that His divine providence guides all things. Faith is not the absence of struggle, but the certainty that even in suffering, God is near—working all for the good of those who love Him. In surrendering to His will, we find true peace, rooted not in the calmness of the world, but in the steadfast heart of God. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus Christ reveals the profound unity between His divinity and humanity. Upon Mount Tabor, the radiant light that shone from Christ’s face and garments was not a light cast from without, but the splendor of His divine nature, veiled in humility yet now momentarily unveiled. In this glorious manifestation, the Church is given a foretaste of the resurrection and the destiny of all who follow Him. Moses and Elijah speak with Him, signifying the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets, for Christ is the living center of salvation history. Let us, then, fix our gaze on the transfigured Lord, that we too may be transformed by grace and drawn into the luminous mystery of divine love. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

***BONUS Meditation Hymn at the end from St. Mary's beautiful choir***In every age, man is tempted to believe that the world is enough. He builds cities of glass and steel, sculpts gods in his own image, and fills his days with noise and novelty—yet his soul remains restless. As Saint Augustine so rightly said famously, our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee. He walked in the barren desert of lavish imperial courts and indulged in the finest wines of ancient Rome and found it wanting. To live for this world alone is to walk in a beautiful prison: adorned, yes—but still a cage.The Christian life begins with a startling reversal. It tells us not merely to look forward, or even inward, but upward. Sursum corda—lift up your hearts! This call that we say during the Eucharistic prayer, echoing through every Mass, is no poetic flourish. It is a scream and a command from above that we are meant for more.  It is the very axis upon which the soul must turn if it is to be free. Does not every human heart desire frustratingly more? Our Lord this Sunday in the Gospel Reading is crystal clear: “Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.” (Cf. Luke 12:15). Does this not ring true? How fresh to hear this teaching from the lips of Jesus, compared to the putrid air that we’ve all been forced to breathe. For heaven is not a sentimental escape from earth—it is the meaning of earth. To aim for heaven is not to despise the world, but to see it rightly. A man who knows the stars walks straighter on the road. Indeed, it is only by contemplating eternity that we begin to understand time.The great English convert from atheism to Catholicism, G.K. Chesterton, with his usual cheerful thunder, reminds us that the saints are not the ones who escape reality, but the ones who embrace it with such vigor that they can laugh even at death. They have chosen the one thing that cannot be shaken—the eternal love of God. That my friends, is why we are created, why we come to Mass, and why we worship Jesus Christ. And so, we must ask: Where is our treasure? If it is buried in the shifting sands of fashion, fortune, or fleeting pleasure, we shall be buried with it. But if it is anchored in Christ—who is seated at the right hand of the Father—then we are already rising, even now.Let the world chatter; let it parade its vanities, for as we heard in the first reading today, "vanity of vanities! All things are vanity! … For what profit comes to man from all the toil and anxiety of heart with which he has labored under the sun? All his days, sorrow and grief are his occupation; even at night his mind is not at rest.” (Cf. Ecclesiastes 2:22). We are called higher! The Christian smiles, not in scorn, but in serene defiance—for his eyes are fixed on something greater. We are not made for dust, but for glory. Heaven is not far—it is our home. We must not forget it. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In the paradoxical poetry of divine wisdom, it is precisely the apparent chaos of the world that most loudly proclaims the careful choreography of God's providence. The stars do not govern man, nor does man govern himself, but rather both are held in the palm of our Heavenly Father who is at once infinite and intimate. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The notion that man is meant to become divine may strike the modern mind as madness—and indeed, it is—but it is a divine madness, a holy paradox at the very heart of Christianity. The Church does not merely say that man should be good, or even that he should be better; she dares to say that he is called to be like God. Not in pride, as the serpent whispered, but in humility. Through the astonishing mercy of a God who stooped so low as to become man, so that man might be lifted to the heights of and become like Him. It is not that our humanity is abolished, but that it is completed, transfigured. The carpenter from Nazareth builds not only tables, but saints. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The world, in all its modern sophistication, has grown far too clever to pray. It invents machines to answer questions and philosophies to avoid them. It has built tall towers of noise and named them progress. And yet, in the still, stubborn soul of the Christian, there remains something wonderfully irrational—a voice that persists in prayer. It is, by all worldly measures, a foolish thing to do. To speak into silence, to plead with the invisible, to wait for what does not arrive on time—this is either the height of madness or the height of faith. And Christianity, to its eternal credit, has always chosen both.Prayer is not a mere religious exercise; it is a rebellion against despair. It is the protest of the soul against the finality of facts. The atheist accepts the world as it is; the Christian kneels precisely because he does not. He prays for the sick because he believes death is not the final word. He prays for peace because he believes history is not a closed book. He prays for daily bread because he dares to believe that the universe has a Giver.But above all, the Christian perseveres in prayer. That is the madness that frightens the modern mind most of all—not that the believer prays, but that he keeps praying. He does not stop when nothing happens. He does not give up when the heavens are brass and the silence grows thick and terrible. No, he returns, day after day, like a lover to a locked door, not because he is deluded, but because he is in love. He knows that God is not a machine to be activated, nor a tyrant to be appeased, but a Father to be trusted. And fathers sometimes wait, not because they are cruel, but because they know what is best for their children.The saints knew this. They were not holy because they got what they asked for, but because they asked and kept asking, even when the answer was a long and aching silence. They understood that prayer does not merely move the hand of God—it moves the heart of man. It stretches the soul. It chisels away pride and polishes the hard edges of the will. It is, in the end, less about our words reaching Heaven and more about Heaven reaching into us.So persevere, dear Christian. Pray when it is easy, and more when it is not. Pray when God seems near, and especially when He seems absent. For in that absurd fidelity—in that unreasonable, unyielding tenacity—you will discover the deepest secret of the saints: that the very act of prayer is itself the answer.  --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In the crucible of our deepest pain, where the heart is pierced by sorrow and trial, we encounter the mystery of Christ's own suffering. It is precisely in these moments of darkness that Jesus, the Suffering Servant, draws near, offering His compassionate presence. Through the cross, He transforms our anguish into a path of grace, inviting us to unite our wounds with His, that we may find not despair, but the hope of resurrection. In our pain, we are never alone, for He is with us, the source of all consolation. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian’s homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give