Fr. Brian Soliven Sermons

** Correction: The only Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence was Charles Carroll, not John Carroll. Although there are cousins from the same prominent Catholic family in Maryland **In the earliest chapters of human history, when humanity first awakened to the vast chasm that sin had torn between itself and God, the Almighty—rich in wisdom and mercy—established a system of sacrifice. To modern sensibilities, such practices may seem foreign, even unsettling. Yet these sacrifices were never barbaric rituals devoid of meaning. They were sacred signs, visible declarations of an invisible reality: sin creates a debt, and reconciliation demands atonement.The Israelites, chosen to bear divine truth in a world shrouded in darkness, obeyed this command with reverence. Each unblemished lamb placed upon the altar, each offering consumed by sacred fire, testified to the weight of sin and the desperate human need to be restored to God. The Temple sacrifices were not empty motions; they were solemn reminders that sin costs something and that holiness requires blood.And yet, this system was never meant to stand forever. No ritual, no matter how meticulously observed, could cleanse the human heart. These sacrifices were shadows, holy signposts pointing forward to a far greater reality, a redemptive plan set in motion “before the foundation of the world” (Ephesians 1:4). As Scripture declares, “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10:4). The altar prepared the way, but it could not complete the work.Then, in the fullness of time, the answer arrived.Jesus Christ entered the story, not as another offering, but as the offering. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29). In Him, the fragmented symbols of ancient worship are gathered and fulfilled. God Himself stepped into the brokenness of human existence. The eternal Word became flesh and dwelt among us, fully divine and fully human. On the cross, Christ carried the crushing weight of our guilt, spanning the infinite gulf that sin had carved between heaven and earth.The sacrifices of old were provisional, divine lessons training the hearts of God’s people to recognize the magnitude of what was to come. In Jesus, sacrifice reaches its perfection. He is both High Priest and spotless Victim, offering Himself freely, not as a cold transaction, but as an act of unfathomable love. With His final breath, the Temple system met its completion, and the Savior’s cry echoed through eternity: “It is finished” (John 19:30).Now, standing in the light of this finished work, we are confronted with a question that cannot be ignored. Do we grasp the depth of Christ’s sacrifice? Have we allowed His love to transform us? Scripture calls us not merely to admire the cross, but to respond to it – offering our own lives as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God (Romans 12:1).In the Lamb of God, redemption is complete.   --- 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 Jordan River, something quietly thunderous occurs. The Son of God steps down from the glorious Heavens into the murky water not to be made clean, but to make the waters themselves a divine proclamation. He reveals the secret, robbed from humanity since the drama of the Book of Genesis, when the Serpent tricked our first parents to eat of the Forbidden Fruit. It is tempting to think of baptism merely as an elaborate cultural ritual, or even as an excuse to throw another party. No, it is so much more majestic than that. Baptism is the unveiling.Here stands Jesus, shoulder to shoulder with sinners, though He has no sin of His own to confess. In this act alone we learn something decisive about who He is. God does not reveal Himself here as a distant examiner of humanity, but as One who enters the queue, who wades into our muddied rivers and calls them holy by His presence. When the heavens open and the Father’s voice declares delight in the Son, it is not a private compliment whispered for Jesus’ ears alone. It is a public declaration of identity.“This is my beloved Son.” Before a sermon is preached, before a miracle is worked, before a cross is raised, the Son is named and loved. The order matters. Jesus does not earn the Father’s pleasure; He receives it. And here is the astonishing turn of the Christian story: what is revealed in Him is not meant to stop with Him.For if Christ steps into the waters on our behalf, then we step out of them in His. Baptism, ours and His alike, is not chiefly about our decision for God, but God’s declaration over us. In Christ, we are drawn into that same pronouncement of love. We do not become sons and daughters by striving, but by being joined to the Son.Thus the Jordan becomes a mirror. When we look upon Jesus baptized, we glimpse our own true identity—often obscured by fear, failure, or frantic self-invention. Beneath all these lies a deeper truth spoken from heaven itself: you are beloved. And once a man or woman truly hears that, the whole of life, like the river itself, begins to flow in a new direction.  --- 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

Keep searching for God, never stop. Never cease. True happiness awaits those who endure.  --- 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

Every human heart carries a hunger that no success, pleasure, or good work can ever fully satisfy. We chase after many things, hoping they will quiet that ache, yet they leave us restless still. This hunger is not a flaw in us; it is a clue placed there by God Himself. And when we come to Jesus Christ, we discover that He is not merely one answer among many, but the Answer our hearts have been seeking all along.  --- 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 Word becoming flesh is a direct response to the shame endured by our first parents in Genesis 3:10.  --- 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

Christmas has a peculiar way of catching us off guard. Even those who approach it with little religious intention often find themselves unexpectedly moved. There are the lights, of course, small defiances of darkness that seem to insist, stubbornly, on hope. There is the scent of evergreen, trees that refuse to play along with winter’s story of decay. Our tables groan under the weight of food, and for a brief moment, in houses that are otherwise quite ordinary, we dine like kings in castles we only half-believe in. We laugh, we sing, and sometimes, rather inconveniently, we cry. For Christmas has the habit of stirring not only joy, but memory and memory is often tinged with loss.This curious emotional upheaval is not accidental. Christmas reminds us that we are creatures made for relationship, and therefore made for love. We may grumble about the season’s commercialism, and not without reason. The tiresome pressure to find the “perfect gift” can make the whole affair feel suffocating. Yet even this complaint gives the game away. It reveals that we know, deep down, that shiny objects are poor substitutes for the thing we actually want. We sense that we are meant for something larger than consumption. We are not merely shoppers passing time in a well-lit store; we are beings made for communion.And this, I think, explains why Christmas persists in haunting us. If God is indeed our Maker, then it follows that He understands our design better than we do. We are not mass-produced articles stamped out by chance, but carefully imagined persons. Long before we learned our own names, we were known. Long before we could reach for love, we were made for it.One sees this truth most clearly, I suspect, at the end of life rather than at the height of it. When all the usual distractions are stripped away, the illusions lose their shine. No one, standing at death’s door, laments the possessions left unpurchased or the luxuries never acquired. Such things suddenly reveal themselves as what they always were—props, not pillars. What remains is love: the people we have given ourselves to, the people we have failed, and the question of whether we have ever truly responded to the Love that stands behind them all.Here, then, is where Christianity makes its most audacious claim. It does not say merely that love matters, but that Love itself has entered the story. The Word by whom all things were made does not remain at a safe and reverent distance. He becomes a child. The Author steps onto the stage, not as a commanding hero, but as a helpless infant. The Light enters the darkness so quietly that it can be ignored and yet so decisively, that it cannot be extinguished.This is why Christmas continues to unsettle us. It suggests that the longing we feel, the ache that no gift can quite satisfy, is not a mistake. It is a signpost. The Word became flesh and lived among us, and in doing so, He dignified our hunger for love by answering it—not with an argument, but with Himself.  --- 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

Christmas has a peculiar way of catching us off guard. Even those who approach it with little religious intention often find themselves unexpectedly moved. There are the lights, of course, small defiances of darkness that seem to insist, stubbornly, on hope. There is the scent of evergreen, trees that refuse to play along with winter’s story of decay. Our tables groan under the weight of food, and for a brief moment, in houses that are otherwise quite ordinary, we dine like kings in castles we only half-believe in. We laugh, we sing, and sometimes, rather inconveniently, we cry. For Christmas has the habit of stirring not only joy, but memory and memory is often tinged with loss.This curious emotional upheaval is not accidental. Christmas reminds us that we are creatures made for relationship, and therefore made for love. We may grumble about the season’s commercialism, and not without reason. The tiresome pressure to find the “perfect gift” can make the whole affair feel suffocating. Yet even this complaint gives the game away. It reveals that we know, deep down, that shiny objects are poor substitutes for the thing we actually want. We sense that we are meant for something larger than consumption. We are not merely shoppers passing time in a well-lit store; we are beings made for communion.And this, I think, explains why Christmas persists in haunting us. If God is indeed our Maker, then it follows that He understands our design better than we do. We are not mass-produced articles stamped out by chance, but carefully imagined persons. Long before we learned our own names, we were known. Long before we could reach for love, we were made for it.One sees this truth most clearly, I suspect, at the end of life rather than at the height of it. When all the usual distractions are stripped away, the illusions lose their shine. No one, standing at death’s door, laments the possessions left unpurchased or the luxuries never acquired. Such things suddenly reveal themselves as what they always were—props, not pillars. What remains is love: the people we have given ourselves to, the people we have failed, and the question of whether we have ever truly responded to the Love that stands behind them all.Here, then, is where Christianity makes its most audacious claim. It does not say merely that love matters, but that Love itself has entered the story. The Word by whom all things were made does not remain at a safe and reverent distance. He becomes a child. The Author steps onto the stage, not as a commanding hero, but as a helpless infant. The Light enters the darkness so quietly that it can be ignored and yet so decisively, that it cannot be extinguished.This is why Christmas continues to unsettle us. It suggests that the longing we feel, the ache that no gift can quite satisfy, is not a mistake. It is a signpost. The Word became flesh and lived among us, and in doing so, He dignified our hunger for love by answering it—not with an argument, but with Himself. --- 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 became poor so that we might become rich.  --- 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

Prepare the way of the Lord!  --- 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

"My soul magnifies the Lord!"  --- 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

If Christianity were something we had stitched together out of our own imaginations, I suspect we should have made a far more sensible job of it. We should have arranged a thunderous arrival: God descending like a general at the head of an army, the world brought to heel by sheer magnificence. But that, of course, is precisely why the story has the ring of truth. No one invents a God who chooses to enter His own universe not at the top of the staircase, but at the very bottom.For consider what is being claimed. The One by whom all things were made – whose voice set the stars burning and the galaxies spinning – comes among His creatures unable to speak a word or steady His own limbs. The hand that holds the oceans in their place must first be held. The omnipotent becomes, in the most literal sense, dependent. If this does not disturb our neat ideas of power, then we have not yet begun to understand it.At Christmas, all our ordinary measurements are quietly overturned. We habitually equate power with loudness, greatness with height, importance with the ability to command. God, however, chooses another grammar altogether. He does not shout; He whispers. He does not overwhelm; He invites. The Incarnation tells us that real strength is not diminished by humility, and that true majesty is perfectly at home in low places.We are tempted to treat the manger as a pleasant religious decoration, something to be admired and then passed by. But if we linger, it becomes a challenge rather than a comfort. God did not merely become a man; He became a baby. In doing so, He claimed every stage of human life as His own, from our first breath to our last. There is no corner of our experience, however small or humiliating, that He has not entered and redeemed.And here the blow falls squarely on our pride. The manger tells us, without rancor and without compromise, that the world is not saved by human cleverness or moral effort. Salvation comes not by our ascent to God, but by God’s descent to us. We do not scramble our way into heaven; heaven comes quietly to earth. Grace is not a wage to be earned but a gift to be received, as simply as a child is received into waiting arms.Christmas, then, is not a festival of human achievement but of divine generosity. It is the moment when Eternity puts on the clothes of time and asks, not for admiration, but for trust. God does not bully us into belief; He makes Himself small enough to be loved. The Infinite becomes an infant so that even the smallest and weakest among us might dare to come to Him.   --- 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

To ponder, to be bored in thought, offers a tremendous window into the depths of reality.  --- 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 fulfillment of prophecy is not merely a proof offered to reason, but an invitation to faith—calling the human heart to recognize that God truly enters history and walks with his people. --- 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

Today, the words of our Lord confront and unsettle us. He declares that “tax collectors and prostitutes” go before us. Why is this so? Because they possess a quality that every saint instinctively understands. --- 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 John the Baptist sends his disciples to Jesus with that piercing question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”, we must not too quickly suppose that John had lost his faith. Far more often, doubt is not the absence of belief but the collision of belief with unexpected reality. Even the greatest saints may stand bewildered before the mystery of God’s methods.Here is Jesus healing the blind and lifting the poor, hardly the thunderous overthrow of evil John may have expected. The prison cell in which John waited could not have made the contrast less stark. He had preached a roaring lion; Jesus seemed more like a quiet lamb. And so the messenger goes to the Messiah with the cry that every disciple must eventually utter: “Explain Yourself.”Jesus answers not by argument but by evidence. The blind see; the lame walk; the dead rise. That is to say, “Look at what is happening. The Kingdom is already breaking in, though not in the way you imagined.” God’s power often arrives not as a mighty earthquake but as a seed, small enough to be ignored by the proud and yet strong enough to split the stones beneath it.Jesus refuses to conform to our ideas of what God should do. We want a Savior who fits our expectations; He gives us a Savior who fits what we truly need, even when we do not realize it. In praising John, Jesus reminds us that greatness in the Kingdom is measured not by one’s spiritual résumé but by one’s nearness to the Light. John stood at dawn, pointing to the coming Sun; we stand at mid-morning, bathed in its warmth. The smallest soul who trusts Christ on this side of the Resurrection possesses a gift even John longed to see with his own eyes. What then shall we learn from the imprisoned prophet and the unconventional Messiah?Perhaps this: God may not behave as you expect, but He will always be better than you expect. His answers may not thunder, but they heal. His Kingdom may not arrive with spectacle, but it transforms everything it touches. For such a Savior does not simply rule the world; He remakes the human heart.  --- 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

My friends, if only we could grasp this staggering truth: God does not love you as one among many, but as though you were the only soul He ever fashioned. His gaze is not a broad beam cast over humanity; it is a narrow and radiant shaft aimed straight at your heart. The One who carved the stars has considered every sorrow you carry and every hope you scarcely dare to utter, and He loves you not in spite of these things but through them, with a tenderness fierce enough to pursue you into any darkness and a joy eager to welcome you home. When this truth is allowed to enter the secret chambers of the soul, it becomes impossible to believe you are forgotten; for the God who holds the universe in His palm has never once let go of you.  --- 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 are far more valuable than we imagine ourselves to be; we are sons and daughters of the very Father whom Christ called His own. If we could see ourselves as Heaven sees us, we would walk with a courage that would unsettle every shadow in the world. And perhaps that is why the devil strains so fiercely to cloud our identity. For if he can lure us into forgetting whose children we are, he need not chain us; our own confusion will do the work for him. But the moment we remember, even faintly, that we belong to the Almighty, the darkness trembles, for it knows he is losing his grip.   --- 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

Sooner or later every one of us reaches a moment when we realize we are lost. Perhaps someone here today feels that very thing – an inner drifting, a sense that spiritually or morally we’ve wandered from the path. Life hasn’t unfolded the way we expected. The days begin to blur into one another, wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. Somewhere in that routine we ask, Where is my life going?Dante, the Medieval Italian poet, put it powerfully when he wrote, “Midway on the journey of our life, I found myself alone and lost in a dark wood, having wandered from the straight path.” Many of us know exactly what that dark wood feels like.But hear the good news: Jesus Christ comes precisely for those who are lost. Christianity is not a reward for the strong; it is a lifeline for the weary. It is not a trophy for the disciplined; it is hope for those who finally admit they cannot fix themselves. That is why, in this Sunday’s Gospel, St. John the Baptist does not whisper but proclaims: “Repent! For the Kingdom of God is at hand.”To repent is to say, “Lord, I have lost my way, and I need You to lead me home.” Unless we acknowledge that, we will never leave the dark wood. If we pretend we have everything together, we will never reach for the hand of the Savior stretched out toward us. And if we do not reach for Him, we will never know Jesus Christ as the One who rescues.Some say the Catholic Church asks too much – too many rules, too many expectations: confess your sins, fast during Lent, give back to God a percentage of your income, honor the Sabbath by attending Mass each Sunday. And yes, the Church asks much. But she asks much because she loves much. She has learned, through two thousand years of saints and sinners, that holiness requires real commitment. There is no such thing as cheap grace. As Scripture tells us, “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” (Cf. Leviticus 19:2) When John the Baptist saw the Pharisees and Sadducees, religious men with impressive knowledge, he rebuked them sharply: “You brood of vipers!” Why? Because they knew the law but lacked the heart. They understood Scripture, but their lives bore no fruit. Knowledge without surrender had left them unchanged. And so John cried out, “Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance!”As we walk through this season of Advent, let each candle we light be a small but steady call out of the dark wood and into the marvelous light of Christ. He is coming, not to condemn us for being lost, but to lead us out if only we will let Him.So, do not imitate the Pharisees and Sadducees who believed they needed no Savior. Instead, lift your hands in surrender. Admit your need. Welcome Christ into the places where you feel most lost. Let Him take the lead, guide your steps, and show you once more the path home.  --- 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

There was something wonderfully disarming about the way the sick came to Jesus -- no pretense, no polished virtue, only the quiet confession of need. And in that humble approach, His healing power shone brightest. For Christ never treated brokenness as a barrier but as a doorway through which His mercy might enter. He met trembling hands with compassion, fearful hearts with courage, and wounded lives with the peculiar grace that makes all things new. It is still so today: those who come to Him limping often rise again walking in hope. --- 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 following homily was delivered at a recent community wedding in which five couples, originally civilly married, had their marriages convalidated in the Catholic Church. --- 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