#bishopsilviojosebaez — Public Fediverse posts

The True Shepherd and the Thieves — Silvio José Báez, ocd

In the world of Israel and throughout the Bible, everyone understood the work of shepherds—men who carefully fed, protected, and led their flocks. That’s why Scripture so often uses the image of the shepherd and the flock to describe God’s loving relationship with his people. The psalms pray this way: “Shepherd of Israel, hear us—you who lead Joseph like a flock” (Ps 80:1). And with deep trust, the believer can say: “The Lord is my shepherd; there’s nothing I shall want. He makes me rest in green pastures and leads me beside still waters” (Ps 23:1–3).

In today’s Gospel, Jesus presents himself as the shepherd who brings God’s work to fulfillment—feeding us, caring for us, and leading us into life. Between Jesus the shepherd and us, his flock, there unfolds a relationship of deep intimacy and loving knowledge. He calls his sheep “one by one” (Jn 10:3). Each of us is unique and unrepeatable, known by name and by our personal history. He loves us personally, just as we are. To him, we’re not an anonymous crowd. Turning people into a faceless crowd stands in direct opposition to love, and depersonalization only fosters despotic domination.

After calling his sheep, Jesus “leads them out” (Jn 10:3)—like a new exodus—and once he has brought them out, he “goes ahead of them” (Jn 10:4). He does not leave his sheep confined to closed spaces; he does not want them to live as captives, burdened by fear, sadness, or despair. Jesus calls us to set out from the refuges that suffocate us, from the little nooks of habits that have gone stale and moldy, and he leads us toward new and surprising pastures. He doesn’t allow his sheep to be trapped by any human power either—any power that would threaten their dignity or strip them of their freedom. He brings us out of the enclosures that enslave us and leads us into new lands of abundant life.

Jesus is the shepherd of a “flock that goes forth,” and he goes ahead of them, showing the way. He’s a shepherd of freedom, not of fear. He invites us to trust what lies beyond; he knows that along the journey there are many misleading paths, yet he helps us remain on his path by guiding us with his unmistakable voice. Jesus, “the good shepherd” (Jn 10:11), is followed by his sheep “because they know his voice” (Jn 10:4). His voice is unlike any other. He knows us, and when he speaks, he understands the deepest longings of our hearts and leads us to their fulfillment.

His voice is unlike any other. Jesus doesn’t impose rigid commands; he says nothing that instills fear and speaks no words of deception. His voice sets us free, awakens hope within us, and helps us walk through life with joy and dignity. We can trust him and trust in his love. He isn’t a thief who steals our happiness or a tyrant who tramples our freedom. Jesus has come so that we may have life—“life in abundance” (Jn 10:10). The best thing we can do in life is to listen to his voice and follow him.

Jesus shows us the true shepherd, who enters through the door of the sheepfold with respect, in contrast to “thieves and bandits” who climb over the fence, hide themselves, and resort to violence (Jn 10:1). They “come only to steal, kill, and do harm.” Jesus knows that the enclosure that safeguards our dignity and our life is threatened by such thieves and bandits and remains fragile. We must learn to recognize them and remain on guard against them.

The first enclosure we must care for is the enclosure of our own heart. It’s the most intimate and the most important. If we’re not attentive, our heart can be invaded by relationships, ideas, and feelings that do us great harm. There are relationships that rob us of the joy of living and suffocate our freedom; there are ways of life that trap us in mediocrity; there are distorted ideas that breed prejudice against others or stir up false fears that keep us from living with freedom and joy. There are negative thoughts that enter the heart and erode our sense of self-worth, create deep divisions between ourselves and others, and imprison us in the sadness of selfishness or isolation. We must care for the enclosure of our heart.

We must also care for the social enclosure in which we live, because as a people we too are threatened by “thieves and bandits” who come only to steal, kill, and do harm. In Jesus’ day, the “thieves and bandits” he speaks of were, first of all, the religious leaders of Israel—meticulous in observing the law of Moses, yet treating the people with contempt, even though they were largely simple and poor, often without access to education or led astray morally. “Thieves and bandits” are those religious leaders who become authoritarian, who enrich themselves in the name of God, and who neither care for the people nor stand up for them. We must also be on guard against them.

In Jesus’ day, “thieves and bandits” also included messianic leaders who deceived the people, filling them with false hopes through empty promises of liberation. Today, the “thieves and bandits” are the powerful who seize control of the freedom and the future of entire peoples; dictators and their accomplices who present themselves as politicians but who, in reality, are crooks and criminals. They’re especially dangerous today because, in a blasphemous way, they portray their abuses, corruption, and injustices as if they were a blessing from God. They’re also deeply cynical, constantly speaking of peace while maintaining oppressive systems that leave people without initiative or freedom.

All of these are “thieves and bandits.” Jesus says, “they don’t care for the sheep at all,” because when they “see the wolf coming, they abandon the sheep and flee” (Jn 10:12–13). Jesus, “the good shepherd,” stands in contrast to these “thieves and bandits.” He doesn’t come to take away our freedom, but to free us from all that holds us back and weighs us down; he doesn’t cloud our conscience, but enlightens it; he doesn’t take away our true joys, but multiplies them.

Jesus, the good shepherd, has come so that we may have life—and have it in abundance (Jn 10:10). Life is everything we long for in the depths of our hearts: breath, strength, health, beauty, love, relationships, joy, freedom, and peace. Jesus has come so that we may have not just the bare minimum, without which life isn’t life at all, but life that’s abundant and overflowing—one that reaches others and will one day open into life without end beyond death. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want (…). Even though I walk through dark valleys, I will fear no evil; for you are with me” (Ps 23:1, 4).

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, 26 April 2026

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: A contemplative depiction of Christ as the Good Shepherd standing beneath a star-filled night sky. Image credit: sticker2you / Adobe Stock.

The Cross: The Fullness of God — Silvio José Báez, ocd

On this Third Sunday of Easter, we hear the beautiful story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Two of Jesus’ disciples—witnesses of his crucifixion—sad and disillusioned, are on their way back to Emmaus.

As they walk, they talk about everything that happened in those days in Jerusalem (Lk 24:14). The death of Jesus—he in whom they had trusted, the one they had followed—left them deeply disappointed. They need to talk about it. They need to remember. They need to share what they’ve lived through. And yet, even as they talk, they are still trapped in the painful past. They can’t yet see any reason to hope.

Their experience brings to mind, almost spontaneously, the recent history of the people of Nicaragua. Eight years ago, the people rose up peacefully against a criminal dictatorship that reacted with violence—repressing and killing hundreds of Nicaraguans. The regime has imposed a repressive police state that has stripped away all freedoms and left a painful legacy of imprisonment, exile, and death. Like those two disciples on the road to Emmaus, Nicaragua is the walking wounded—often filled with uncertainty, but always longing for freedom, peace, and justice.

When we carry such a painful history on our shoulders, we run the risk of becoming discouraged, losing hope, like the disciples of Emmaus. They were walking, but they were still trapped in the painful events that had occurred just a few days earlier, when they saw Jesus die, without finding a reason to keep going.

Today’s Gospel is a joyful proclamation for the people of Nicaragua. It reminds us that we are not alone. The Risen Lord is alive and walks with us. He shares our suffering, desires to open our eyes, and to give us the strength to rebuild the country and to create a future of justice and freedom for all.

As those two disciples were walking along, Jesus drew near and began to speak with them. They told him about the sorrow caused by the crucifixion of their Master and the disappointment they were experiencing, because they had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel (Lk 24:21). They talk about what they’ve experienced, but limit themselves to the surface of events, to what is external, and see only a failure that has deeply disillusioned them.

Jesus begins to interpret those same events, moving beyond the surface and entering into their deeper meaning. He begins to explain to them “everything about himself in all the Scriptures” (Lk 24:27). He shows them that his death on the cross was the fulfillment of God’s entire history of love and salvation for us. His condemnation and his death on the cross were mysteriously part of the divine plan. Jesus explains: “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” (Lk 24:26).

He speaks to them about his unjust death in light of the admirable action of God, who reorients everything, including criminal hatred, toward the triumph of good, so that, as if by a miracle, the splendid fruit of life springs forth from guilt. He speaks of his Passion and his death as a mysterious action of God, through which from the cross springs forth the victory of mercy and the wonder of divine salvation.

As they listen to Jesus, the two disciples begin to understand that the cross wasn’t God’s absence—it was his fullness. The Crucified One wasn’t a failure—he was the supreme embodiment of the mystery and the love of God.

They’re captivated by Jesus’ words. Later, they’ll say their hearts were burning within them. Jesus helps them interpret what they’ve experienced in the light of his Resurrection, so they can see reality with God’s own eyes. The mighty hand of God has been revealed not in criminal hatred and violence, but in the boundless love of the Crucified One. God’s hand has been revealed on the cross, where everything seemed impossible, where the absurd seemed to prevail.

The Risen Jesus offers reasons to hope and new strength to keep building a better future for the people of Nicaragua. With Jesus at our side, walking with us, the suffering we’ve endured can become a new impetus to keep going; in our powerlessness, we can discover the strength of God that propels us forward; our mistakes can become a lesson that sets us back on the right path; and our sadness and discouragement can become strength to change history.

We mustn’t fall into the illusion that the true victors are those who impose themselves with weapons. Nor should we let ourselves be deceived by the distorted reading of history put forward by those in power, who present themselves as victims and accuse the real victims. The Resurrection of Jesus assures us that, just as his crucifixion once seemed like a defeat, what happened eight years ago has in fact been the great victory of a people who are already rising again, because they refuse to submit to unjust oppression and to the theft of their own history.

The disciples invite Jesus to stay with them. As they sit at table, Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them (Lk 24:30). Then the eyes of the two disciples are opened, and they recognize him (Lk 24:31). In that broken bread, Jesus is present—he feeds us with the strength of his love in every Eucharist. In the Eucharistic bread, we find the strength that sustains us and the love that guides us. The people of Nicaragua are not only courageous, but also a people who believe. May Jesus, the Bread of Life, always sustain our journey and be our nourishment in moments of doubt and weariness.

Before that broken bread, the disciples finally came to understand the meaning of history. The Eucharist teaches us how the future is built: by becoming bread broken for the life of the world. The people of Nicaragua must not forget this. It’s not about seeking more victories, but about daring to lose out of love—giving ourselves generously so that others may live, and continuing to struggle so that a society marked by freedom, justice, and peace may take shape, without victors or vanquished.

The two disciples return to Jerusalem, where the others are gathered, to tell them what they’ve experienced. They return at night, but illuminated interiorly. Jesus leads us back along the paths of fear, failure, and sadness. He frees us from the temptation to flee to Emmaus. He sends us to others and restores us to our place in history. With the strength of the Risen Lord, and under the loving gaze of Mary Immaculate, Mother of our people, let us walk in hope, share the fire of faith, and always be ready to build, with optimism and generosity, the dignified future our people deserve.

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, 19 April 2026

Note: “Eight years ago” refers to the 2018 Nicaraguan protests, when peaceful demonstrations were met with violent repression.

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Nicaragua’s Mothers’ Day March on 30 May 2018 was a peaceful demonstration in solidarity with the mothers of those murdered, disappeared, and detained by the Ortega dictatorship. In the end, it was attacked by police and paramilitary forces, leaving eleven dead that day and about one hundred wounded. Image credit: Jorge Mejia Peralta / Flickr (Some rights reserved)

The Cross: The Fullness of God — Silvio José Báez, ocd

On this Third Sunday of Easter, we hear the beautiful story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Two of Jesus’ disciples—witnesses of his crucifixion—sad and disillusioned, are on their way back to Emmaus.

As they walk, they talk about everything that happened in those days in Jerusalem (Lk 24:14). The death of Jesus—he in whom they had trusted, the one they had followed—left them deeply disappointed. They need to talk about it. They need to remember. They need to share what they’ve lived through. And yet, even as they talk, they are still trapped in the painful past. They can’t yet see any reason to hope.

Their experience brings to mind, almost spontaneously, the recent history of the people of Nicaragua. Eight years ago, the people rose up peacefully against a criminal dictatorship that reacted with violence—repressing and killing hundreds of Nicaraguans. The regime has imposed a repressive police state that has stripped away all freedoms and left a painful legacy of imprisonment, exile, and death. Like those two disciples on the road to Emmaus, Nicaragua is the walking wounded—often filled with uncertainty, but always longing for freedom, peace, and justice.

When we carry such a painful history on our shoulders, we run the risk of becoming discouraged, losing hope, like the disciples of Emmaus. They were walking, but they were still trapped in the painful events that had occurred just a few days earlier, when they saw Jesus die, without finding a reason to keep going.

Today’s Gospel is a joyful proclamation for the people of Nicaragua. It reminds us that we are not alone. The Risen Lord is alive and walks with us. He shares our suffering, desires to open our eyes, and to give us the strength to rebuild the country and to create a future of justice and freedom for all.

As those two disciples were walking along, Jesus drew near and began to speak with them. They told him about the sorrow caused by the crucifixion of their Master and the disappointment they were experiencing, because they had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel (Lk 24:21). They talk about what they’ve experienced, but limit themselves to the surface of events, to what is external, and see only a failure that has deeply disillusioned them.

Jesus begins to interpret those same events, moving beyond the surface and entering into their deeper meaning. He begins to explain to them “everything about himself in all the Scriptures” (Lk 24:27). He shows them that his death on the cross was the fulfillment of God’s entire history of love and salvation for us. His condemnation and his death on the cross were mysteriously part of the divine plan. Jesus explains: “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” (Lk 24:26).

He speaks to them about his unjust death in light of the admirable action of God, who reorients everything, including criminal hatred, toward the triumph of good, so that, as if by a miracle, the splendid fruit of life springs forth from guilt. He speaks of his Passion and his death as a mysterious action of God, through which from the cross springs forth the victory of mercy and the wonder of divine salvation.

As they listen to Jesus, the two disciples begin to understand that the cross wasn’t God’s absence—it was his fullness. The Crucified One wasn’t a failure—he was the supreme embodiment of the mystery and the love of God.

They’re captivated by Jesus’ words. Later, they’ll say their hearts were burning within them. Jesus helps them interpret what they’ve experienced in the light of his Resurrection, so they can see reality with God’s own eyes. The mighty hand of God has been revealed not in criminal hatred and violence, but in the boundless love of the Crucified One. God’s hand has been revealed on the cross, where everything seemed impossible, where the absurd seemed to prevail.

The Risen Jesus offers reasons to hope and new strength to keep building a better future for the people of Nicaragua. With Jesus at our side, walking with us, the suffering we’ve endured can become a new impetus to keep going; in our powerlessness, we can discover the strength of God that propels us forward; our mistakes can become a lesson that sets us back on the right path; and our sadness and discouragement can become strength to change history.

We mustn’t fall into the illusion that the true victors are those who impose themselves with weapons. Nor should we let ourselves be deceived by the distorted reading of history put forward by those in power, who present themselves as victims and accuse the real victims. The Resurrection of Jesus assures us that, just as his crucifixion once seemed like a defeat, what happened eight years ago has in fact been the great victory of a people who are already rising again, because they refuse to submit to unjust oppression and to the theft of their own history.

The disciples invite Jesus to stay with them. As they sit at table, Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them (Lk 24:30). Then the eyes of the two disciples are opened, and they recognize him (Lk 24:31). In that broken bread, Jesus is present—he feeds us with the strength of his love in every Eucharist. In the Eucharistic bread, we find the strength that sustains us and the love that guides us. The people of Nicaragua are not only courageous, but also a people who believe. May Jesus, the Bread of Life, always sustain our journey and be our nourishment in moments of doubt and weariness.

Before that broken bread, the disciples finally came to understand the meaning of history. The Eucharist teaches us how the future is built: by becoming bread broken for the life of the world. The people of Nicaragua must not forget this. It’s not about seeking more victories, but about daring to lose out of love—giving ourselves generously so that others may live, and continuing to struggle so that a society marked by freedom, justice, and peace may take shape, without victors or vanquished.

The two disciples return to Jerusalem, where the others are gathered, to tell them what they’ve experienced. They return at night, but illuminated interiorly. Jesus leads us back along the paths of fear, failure, and sadness. He frees us from the temptation to flee to Emmaus. He sends us to others and restores us to our place in history. With the strength of the Risen Lord, and under the loving gaze of Mary Immaculate, Mother of our people, let us walk in hope, share the fire of faith, and always be ready to build, with optimism and generosity, the dignified future our people deserve.

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, 19 April 2026

Note: “Eight years ago” refers to the 2018 Nicaraguan protests, when peaceful demonstrations were met with violent repression.

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Nicaragua’s Mothers’ Day March on 30 May 2018 was a peaceful demonstration in solidarity with the mothers of those murdered, disappeared, and detained by the Ortega dictatorship. In the end, it was attacked by police and paramilitary forces, leaving eleven dead that day and about one hundred wounded. Image credit: Jorge Mejia Peralta / Flickr (Some rights reserved)

The Glory of Love — Silvio José Báez, ocd

The Gospel of this Second Sunday in Lent is filled with sun and light (Mt 17:1–9). Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him and led them up a high mountain. There he was transfigured before them: his face shone like the sun and his clothes became dazzling white (Mt 17:1).

This took place shortly after Jesus had revealed to them that he was resolved to go to Jerusalem, where the Jewish authorities, after making him suffer greatly, would put him to death (cf. Mt 16:24–25). The disciples had been shaken by the Master’s words and filled with fear at the tragic destiny awaiting him. Everything had grown dark for them: they were confused, afraid, and beginning to lose heart.

On the mountain, the three disciples contemplate for a moment, in the intimacy of the mountaintop, the humble glory of God hidden in the humanity of Jesus. He wanted them to understand the path of love he was ready to walk—even to suffering and death. There he chose to reveal to them the secret concealed within his humanity: the glory of love that moved his heart and led him to a boundless self-giving for humanity.

The radiant face of Jesus is an image to be engraved on the heart for the darkest day, when his face will be struck, insulted, humiliated—when it will no longer appear transfigured but disfigured. This is the great challenge that Peter, James, and John must accept. They are called to discover the mysterious thread that unites the Mount of the Transfiguration and Mount Calvary: the disconcerting relationship between blazing light and total darkness, between the transfigured face of Jesus and the disfigured face of the Crucified One.

For the three disciples, such an experience was necessary—one that would strengthen them, enlighten them, and make them feel enveloped in the love that filled Jesus’ life. They needed to step back from daily reality, from their fears and shadows, and open their eyes to something new and luminous. They had to understand that the final word in history does not belong to suffering, injustice, evil, or death. Soon they would live through the night of Jesus’ passion and death; it was important that they experience it knowing that its darkness would not last forever. No night in life lasts forever.

Jesus led them to the summit not to distance them from reality, but so they might step back and gain a broader and deeper vision of life. From above, the landscape can be seen more clearly. It isn’t healthy to live only on the flatlands of routine—conditioned by the pressures of daily life—filled with fear before the challenges we face. We must step back and rise above the quicksands of failure, mediocrity, and hopelessness, and free ourselves from the ideological quagmires that make us rigid or pessimistic.

On the mountain, Peter, James, and John were able to see, beyond appearances, a deeper truth: in the humble humanity of Jesus they contemplated the radiant glory of God. Today this same challenge stands before us: to see beyond appearances with the eyes of faith. The world teaches us to judge by success, outward beauty, and visible power; faith invites us to see with different eyes. On a cross, the world sees defeat; faith sees the triumph of love. In our crises, the world sees failure; faith discovers opportunities for growth. Every difficulty contains a seed of grace; every tear can become a spring of blessing.

Faith is like a new pair of lenses that allow us to see reality clearly. Without faith, we look at life through the eyes of fear, hopelessness, and human calculation. With faith, we see with the eyes of love, hope, and eternity. Faith helps us recognize that God is never absent; he is always weaving something beautiful, even when we cannot see it. Faith allows us to glimpse resurrection in the midst of death, light in the midst of darkness, meaning in the midst of chaos. With that gaze, we can move forward when everything seems lost, because we know that the end of the story will be fullness of life and light.

In society as well, there are moments of confusion. We feel scattered, weak, even unsuccessful in achieving the results we hoped for. Injustice and violence seem invincible; no paths toward resolution appear. Weariness, failed attempts, and disappointments overwhelm us. In those moments we must climb the mountain: step back, rise above the flatlands of personal interests, and leave behind the ideological quagmires that make us rigid or pessimistic. The light of the Risen Lord—which conquers sin and death and is already present, in anticipation, on the mountain—enables us to see reality with new eyes and widens our vision and our hearts.

The new light radiating from Christ transfigures us; it grants us a renewed vision of life and history; it gives us strength to continue striving for a new world and keeps our hope from withering. Illuminated by Jesus, we won’t be sowers of darkness or prophets of doom, but humble sowers of sparks of light where shadows seem to reign.

Like Peter, James, and John, we too must climb the mountain again and again and allow the light of the Risen Lord to shine into the darkness of our existence. We climb the mountain when we pray. In prayer, in silence with the Lord—even for a short time—his light transfigures us. Moments of prayer aren’t useless; they are necessary. We must expose ourselves to that loving light, dedicate time to listening to Jesus, to conversion, and to rejoicing in his luminous presence.

When we contemplate the light of the Risen One, we aren’t blinded, nor do we forget our commitments. Like the disciples, we must always descend into the valley of daily life: the ordinary rhythm, the struggle and fatigue of each day. In this Eucharist we stand on the holy mountain, contemplating the radiant face of Jesus and listening to his voice. When the celebration ends, let us descend into the valley of everyday life enlightened by him. May the light of Jesus make us strong and radiant. May it help us discover the beauty of life, hidden like a drop of light in the living heart of all things.

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily for the Second Sunday in Lent
Miami, March 1, 2026

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Detail from a 15th c. icon of the Transfiguration by the hand of Theophanes the Greek currently in the collections of the Tretyakov Gallery. Image credit: Wikimedia Commons (Public domain)

Quote of the day, 1 March: Silvio José Báez, ocd

On this second Sunday of Lent, we continue our journey of freedom and light, of prayer and conversion, towards the Lord’s Passover.

If last Sunday’s Gospel showed us Jesus up on a high mountain—subject to the temptation to abandon the ways of God, reducing his Messianic character to material satisfaction, the manipulation of God, and the quest for power and fame—this Sunday we contemplate him on another mountain, but one filled with light and glory. We see him as the beloved Son of the Father, the one whose voice we must listen and follow.

This Sunday’s Gospel, which was written according to the model of the theophanies (i.e., the divine revelations of the Old Testament), says that Jesus went up with Peter, James, and John to a mountain to pray.

The mountain is terrain that rises up vertically; it is closest to heaven, the resting place of God’s feet. As the prophet, Amos says: He “treads on the heights of the earth” (Amos 4:13). The mountains are pointing towards the mystery and depth of the cosmos, towards the infinite; they are the land that penetrates heaven. And Jesus climbs a mountain to pray.

Prayer is like climbing a mountain—not physically, but by entering into the depths of our being where we find God’s heart filled with light.

Climbing the mountain means entering within ourselves, beyond feelings and reasons, beyond all the ups and downs of daily life, carrying in our hearts the great problems of the world.

Prayer is about entering within ourselves with our hands full of faces and experiences. When we pray we allow ourselves to be enlightened and transfigured by the loving and peaceful light of God who dwells within our heart, “in its deepest center” (Cf. Saint John of the Cross, The Living Flame Of Love)

Indeed, while Jesus was praying, his face changed appearance. Prayer is transforming: it transforms you into what you contemplate, what you hear, and what you love—and you become like the One to whom you pray. Psalm 34 says: “Look to him, and be radiant!” (Ps 34:5).

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, Second Sunday of Lent, 17 March 2019 (excerpt)
Our Lady of the Assumption Parish, Managua

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Detail from Icon: The Transfiguration, tempera on panel, first quarter 16th century, Novgorod. From the Feasts Tier collection. Image credit: State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg (Public domain).

Quote of the day, 11 May: Silvio José Báez, ocd

Jesus invites us to trust in God and in him. To believe means to trust, first of all—to surrender, to abandon ourselves to love. In the face of fear, the antidote par excellence is trust in God.

Faced with the tragedy of his crucifixion, Jesus asks us to do the same today as asked his disciples then. He wants us to persevere each day, united to him and the Father, with the awareness that we are loved and cared for with a love so profound, it surpasses understanding.

We won’t always be able to comprehend the bad things that happen to us, but we always will be able to trust in the love of God who cares for us, consoles and sustains us.

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
10 May 2020

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: An image of prayer, dialogue, listening, and trust. Image credit: Lyndon Stratford / Adobe Stock.

Not a Time for Silence — Silvio José Báez, ocd

Today’s Gospel recounts the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. It tells us when he began to preach and what his first message was.

“When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee … From that time Jesus began to preach, saying, ‘Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven has come near’” (Mt 4:12, 17).

Jesus had been an enthusiastic supporter of the Baptist’s movement—probably even his disciple—and he himself was baptized by John. John’s arrest must have deeply affected Jesus. Yet instead of intimidating him, this act of injustice helped him understand that God’s work had to continue.

People can be silenced, but great ideals endure. They extinguished the voice crying out in the desert, but a stronger voice arose—the voice of Jesus. Even when a prophet is silenced, God’s voice will always be heard, for “the word of God is not chained” (2 Tim 2:9). Jesus knew how to read the signs of the times. After John’s arrest, he could have withdrawn into hiding and lived an ordinary life. Instead, he chose to keep preaching in God’s name, nourishing his people’s hope and proclaiming God’s saving plan with passion.

Jesus teaches us that when everything seems to come to a halt, it’s the perfect moment to recalibrate our inner compass, to be docile to God’s ways, to look to the future with hope, and to keep moving forward. Problems and obstacles can become opportunities to discover strengths we didn’t know we had. When we face challenges without letting discouragement break us, we grow stronger and find creative solutions. The Lord’s strength and love are present in every difficulty we face. Let’s learn to see life with the eyes of Jesus, who knew how to discover new paths when everything seemed to be over.

We must stay attentive to what’s happening around us. We’re living in a decisive moment, one in which global geopolitics seem to be reshaped through the use of force, the denial of law, and contempt and mistreatment toward the most vulnerable people. We also see how economic relations and wealth have been elevated into a power that governs the world, forgetting the value and dignity of persons and nations. It’s time to redirect the course of history. It’s time to believe again in reason, peaceful understanding, human dignity, and in the urgent pursuit of peace and fraternity. As Pope Leo said at the Mass inaugurating his pontificate on May 18, 2025: “This is the hour of love!” It’s the hour to believe in God’s transforming power and in humanity’s ability to build a better world.

In many of our countries, we’re living through times of uncertainty and painful experiences of arbitrary powers that threaten, repress, and imprison. This isn’t the hour to remain silent or to lose heart. Like Jesus, who pressed forward after John’s arrest, we too must stand firm and continue to dream—and to fight for the liberation and democratization of our people, now at hand.

For the Church, this isn’t a time for silence. It’s time to raise our voices: to cast light into the darkness of this present hour, to nourish the people’s hope, and to denounce oppressive structures that have long prevailed but are now on the verge of disappearing.

This is the moment for political leaders not only to address international bodies or the media, but to speak directly to the people—with wisdom and solidarity. The time has come to give the people within the country a central role: to listen to their needs and concerns, to accompany their efforts to organize, and to strengthen their hope. Paraphrasing what Pope Francis said in Bolivia in 2015, we must remember that the future of our people doesn’t lie only in the hands of great powers or political leaders. It lies, above all, in the hands of the people themselves and in their ability to organize (Santa Cruz de la Sierra, Bolivia, July 9, 2015).

Today’s Gospel also shows us what lay at the heart of Jesus’ preaching. He left the desert and went to Galilee, a region full of villages and cities. And there, in the midst of the people, he began to proclaim: “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven has come near” (Mt 4:17). In these few words we find a summary of everything Jesus preached. The time of distance from God is over. The Kingdom of Heaven is near. God has drawn close with all his saving power. We’re not alone, weighed down and entangled in our problems, weaknesses, and sufferings.

When Jesus announces the nearness of the Kingdom of Heaven, he adds: “Repent” (Mt 4:17). He invites us to examine how we think and how we act, and to let go of everything that keeps us from living fully.

• To repent is to remove the obstacles that block God’s closeness.
• To repent is to allow ourselves to be transformed by the renewing power of God’s love.
• It means abandoning the logic of selfishness and embracing the logic of love and respect for others, which is God’s very essence.
• It’s a call to go beyond personal interests and self-satisfaction and to build relationships rooted in compassion and solidarity—the foundations of a new humanity.

With Jesus, the Kingdom of Heaven has drawn near. God is among us. We’re not meant to live enslaved by our sins or trapped in a dark and meaningless life. We can be freed from the evil that dominates us and experience the joy of God’s forgiveness. We can live as God’s beloved children, welcoming his will and entrusting ourselves confidently to him. And we can become true brothers and sisters, letting go of a competitive way of seeing life and building together societies that are just and peaceful.

The new world that God’s closeness brings into being may seem like a dream, but God is already making it real. He’s waiting for us to welcome his love, to trust in him, and to be willing to remove the obstacles that keep him at a distance. Let’s receive with renewed joy Jesus’ great proclamation today: “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven has come.”

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, 25 January 2026

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Christ’s teaching ministry is featured in this stained glass window from Canterbury Cathedral. Image credit: Lawrence Lew, OP / Flickr (Some rights reserved).

#BishopSilvioJoséBáez #hope #humanDignity #injustice #propheticMinistry

The Journey Is the Cure — Silvio José Báez, ocd

“Now as they were going away they were cleansed.”
— Luke 17:14

In this Sunday’s Gospel (Lk 17:11-19), we heard that as Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, entering a village, “ten men suffering from a virulent skin-disease came to meet him. They stood some way off and called to him, ‘Jesus! Master! Take pity on us!’” (Lk 17:12-13).

As we know, lepers were people whom the Law of Moses prohibited from coming into contact with others. They lived excluded from social life and from worship. They had to dwell on the outskirts of the city, hopeless and alone. They were like the living dead. Today the physical disease of leprosy has been almost totally eliminated, but unfortunately our world suffers from other forms of leprosy. Authoritarian systems and the powerful create new lepers. Today’s social leprosies divide humanity by excluding or subjugating the weakest, exploiting the poor, mistreating and expelling migrants, or silencing those who think differently or speak truths that challenge such systems.

The Cry of the Excluded

The lepers in the Gospel see Jesus from afar and cry out to him: “Jesus! Master! Take pity on us!” (Lk 17:13). It is a brief, heart-wrenching cry that springs from the depths of human suffering. Those poor men, disfigured in their bodies, still have eyes to see and a voice to cry out. They are an icon of authentic faith. Although they do not physically approach Jesus, with their eyes and their voices they enter into relationship with him, the only one who can free them from isolation and pain—from the humiliation of being excluded. We are believers when we have eyes to see Jesus as a gateway to hope, and when we have a voice to cry out to him from our suffering.

Cultivate Resistance

The ten lepers in the Gospel not only trust Jesus; they also resist a system that excludes them and a religion that ignores them. They refuse to resign themselves to living as outcasts, dwelling on their own pain and watching their lives fade away in suffering and solitude. Today such resistance is necessary.

In the face of oppressive systems and criminal regimes that subjugate peoples, we must cultivate:

• Spiritual resistance to free ourselves from pessimism
• Intellectual resistance to continue thinking freely
• Moral resistance to continue denouncing injustice
• Faithful resistance to keep trusting in the God of life and liberation

There are historical stages when the future of peoples is uncertain, when social weariness sets in, when attempts fail and disappointments mount. These are not failures—they are the birth pangs of a new society. In those moments we must not fall into discouragement. Following the example of today’s lepers, we must preserve our spirit of resistance so as not to become accustomed to the forced normality that the oppressor wants to impose, and so as not to lose the capacity to dream of a just and free society.

Healing on the Way

Jesus does not approach the lepers, but he knows that God wants them whole and does not want them to suffer even one more second. Therefore, he immediately asks them to go present themselves to the priests of the temple, so the priests can verify their healing and the lepers can reintegrate into their homes and their people (cf. Lk 17:14). Still sick, still covered with leprosy, those men set out on the road, fulfilling Jesus’ command without delay and with complete trust. Surprisingly, the Gospel says that “as they were going away they were cleansed” (Lk 17:14).

The lepers were not cured while standing in front of Jesus, but afterward, when trusting in his word they set out on the road. In reality they were already healed the moment they encountered Jesus, though they could not yet see it or know it. They simply trusted and did not hesitate to walk as Jesus asked them. We must place our trust in God, even in the darkest moments, and believe in his word before we see it fulfilled.

Walking Together

Each person’s life is a journey—sometimes rough, full of obstacles, exhausting, uphill. Yet Jesus invites us to always keep walking. He assures us that God acts in our lives when we accept the risk of moving forward, of dreaming, of taking risks, of building. Resignation and mediocrity make us spiritually sick and diminish our dignity. We must walk forward, supported by trust in God, continually invoking Jesus, never stopping.

Society’s life is also a journey we make together, but too often it is full of potholes that obstruct fraternity and assault human dignity. The ambition for power, the idolatry of money, authoritarianism, the oppression of the poor, and the selfish indifference of those who prefer to remain silent—these are some of the great potholes on the path toward a free, just, and equal society. Yet nothing should stop us from dreaming and fighting for a better, more humane world. The best way to predict the future is to create it.

The path itself is healing because it is the leaven of hope. Sick people and sick societies are healed by walking, not by remaining paralyzed and defeated by pessimism or fear. The healing of persons and societies happens not when we reach the goal, but when we have the courage to walk, even slowly. In each step of hope, a drop of healing is deposited; in each step fighting for freedom and justice, a new future emerges.

The lepers in the Gospel walked together, sharing the same faith and the same hope. In life we must learn to walk together, never alone. We need one another. In life, on the path of faith, and in our life together in society, we are not rivals but brothers and sisters, responsible for one another. Coherent living means taking responsibility for the one who has stopped walking and for the one who has lost the way. We must not walk in order to arrive first and monopolize privileges and applause, but rather to build together a new way of living in which we share our goods and interests in peace and justice, and where dissenting from power is not a crime.

The One Who Returned

All the lepers were cured, but the Gospel tells us that one of them, “finding himself cured, turned back praising God at the top of his voice and threw himself prostrate at the feet of Jesus and thanked him” (Lk 17:15-16). This man, instead of going to present himself to the priests, returned to Jesus to give thanks. He never reached the temple. He understood that salvation comes not from a religion indifferent to human suffering, but from a personal relationship with Jesus. He realized that more important than his healing was encountering once again the one who had healed him.

That leper was not only healed of leprosy, but received the fullness of life and salvation that only Jesus can give. When we thank God, we recognize the source of life and immerse ourselves in it as in a river of living waters. When we joyfully celebrate our faith in Jesus and are able to praise and give thanks to God, life is illuminated and flourishes, the heavens draw near, and the new world begins to emerge.

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time
12 October 2025

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0FyXetawls

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Jesus places his hand on the head of a healed leper in a gesture of compassion and comfort. Image by James Middleton / Adobe Stock (Asset ID: 915162531) | Generated with AI

#BishopSilvioJoséBáez #ChristianLife #healing #journey #socialJustice

Marie du jour, 31 May: Silvio José Báez, ocd

The Magnificat is a mirror of Mary’s soul. In this poem, the spirituality of Yahweh’s poor and the prophecy of the Ancient Covenant reach their culmination. It is the canticle that announces the new Gospel of Christ; it is the prelude to the Sermon on the Mount. There Mary reveals herself to us: empty of self, placing all her trust in the Father’s mercy.

In the Magnificat, she shows herself as a model “for those who do not passively accept the adverse circumstances of personal and social life, nor are they victims of ‘alienation’, as we say today, but those who proclaim with her that God “lifts up the lowly” and, if necessary, “casts down the mighty from their thrones…”. (St. John Paul II, Homily, Shrine of Our Lady of Zapopan, 30 January 1979).

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

The Magnificat: A Prayer for New Times
Catechesis on the Magnificat of the Blessed Virgin Mary (2011)

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product

Featured image: This detail of the greeting of St. Elizabeth and the Blessed Virgin Mary at the home of Zechariah and Elizabeth was executed in oil on canvas by Philippe de Champaigne (Belgian, 1602–1674) between 1643–48. Image credit: Princeton University Art Museum (Public domain).

⬦ Reflection Question ⬦
In what ways can I live the Magnificat—trusting God’s mercy and proclaiming his justice?
⬦ Join the conversation in the comments.

#BishopSilvioJoséBáez #BlessedVirginMary #Magnificat #mercy #poor #prophecy

Quote of the day, 28 May: Silvio José Báez, ocd

Let’s not forget the prophetic words of the Virgin Mary, which have never been disproved by history: “The Lord casts down the mighty from their thrones” (Luke 1:52).

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua, 9 June 2018

Spanish translation is the blogger’s own work product.

Featured image: A member of the faithful carries an image of St. Michael the Archangel during a pilgrimage 28 July to the Cathedral of Managua in support of the Nicaraguan bishops amid the bloody summer of 2018. Image credit: Jorge Mejía Peralta / Flickr (Some rights reserved).

⬦ Reflection Question ⬦
Do I trust in the Virgin’s prophetic words, even when the powerful seem untouchable?
⬦ Join the conversation in the comments.

#BishopSilvioJoséBáez #BlessedVirginMary #inspiration #Magnificat #prophetic

Quote of the day, 15 March: Silvio José Báez, ocd

“Love your enemies” (Mt 5:44). This does not mean feeling sympathy or affection for those who have harmed us. Rather, it means refusing to hate, seeking no revenge, and being willing to do good to those who do not love us or have wronged us. It means loving with the same love with which God loves us.

Loving an enemy should not be confused with the demand that the guilty party be held accountable before a court of law.

This is not hypocrisy.

One may still feel antipathy and rejection toward the wrongdoer, but one chooses to go beyond feelings—deciding not to seek revenge or harbor hatred, and, if necessary, even to do good to them and pray for them. This is a gift from God.

Love for one’s enemy does not exclude but rather presupposes the need for the guilty party to face justice.

Silvio José Báez, O.C.D.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
16 June 2020

https://twitter.com/silviojbaez/status/1272859024648802310

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d. (left) and Archbishop Leopoldo Brenes (right) join in prayer at the Metropolitan Cathedral of Managua. Earlier that day, they had traveled to Saint Sebastian Basilica in Diriamba, Nicaragua, where they were attacked by pro-government sympathizers. Image credit: sj.baez / Facebook (Used by permission).

🕊 What does this quote mean for you? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

#BishopSilvioJoséBáez #feelings #good #guilt #hatred #intercession #judgment #law #love #loveYourEnemies

Quote of the day, 20 January: Silvio José Báez, ocd

A faith that makes no incision into the social and political spheres is incomplete. Believers must always question themselves, from their faith in Jesus Christ—what’s their perception of reality? What they can contribute to its improvement is not a matter of politicizing the faith or making it an ideology.

Sometimes faith has been reduced to extremely individualistic religious experiences, centered only around parish and family life, which indeed fosters encounters among others, however, they are restricted to small groups. Those encounters also must be built further, because that’s not all there is.

Faith is also manifested in the struggle for a better world, and in building relationships that are more just—that’s why there’s also a social, political, and ecological dimension. The risk in taking this step is to make such a departure that ends up emptying the faith, that is why it is so important to continuously feed the inner experience of a personal encounter with Jesus Christ, as well as life in the community of believers.

Therefore, an education in the faith is also necessary, which takes into account all these dimensions. When I was speaking to the priests in Nicaragua, I told them that either they would be mystical prophets, or they would be nothing.

A life of faith that becomes prophetic has a share of consolation and another of denunciation. A faith that is reason alone is cold: you have to integrate feelings, which also include negative or frustrating experiences.

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
“Silvio José Báez: Una fe individualista, sin incidencia en lo social y lo político, es una fe incompleta”

Read the complete interview with Bishop Báez

Pere Mari. “Silvio José Báez: Una fe individualista, sin incidencia en lo social y lo político, es una fe incompleta.” Mater Purissima, No. 164, June 2019, pp. 20-21.

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Bishop Báez is seen with pilgrims at World Youth Day in Panama, January 2019. Image credit: Silvio José Báez Facebook page (Used by permission)

#BishopSilvioJoséBáez #faith #JesusChrist #Justice #prophetic #society #struggle

Quote of the day, 24 December: Bishop Silvio José Báez, ocd

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace for those he favours” (Lk 2:14). These words conclude tonight’s Gospel reading for this holy night of Christmas. They are the joyful proclamation of the angels who praise God at the birth of Jesus, the Savior. Heaven lifts up its voice. The interpretation of what was unfolding that night in the humble inn of Bethlehem could only come from on high. Only God himself, through his angels, could lead us into the grandeur of this mystery of love and tenderness: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace for those he favours.”

The birth of the Child is a manifestation of God’s glory. In Scripture, God’s glory is his loving and saving power poured out for humanity. It is not vanity, not a self-centered display of greatness, nor a boastful show of power. God reveals his glory by loving us and giving us life. He revealed his glory in creating the universe for humanity’s sake, as the psalmist says: “The heavens declare the glory of God, the vault of heaven proclaims his handiwork” (Ps 19:1). Similarly, the Lord “covered himself in glory” when he liberated the Israelites from Pharaoh’s power, leading them through the sea on their way to the land of freedom (cf. Ex 15:1). God is glorified when he creates and when he saves. His glory is revealed in the universe and in history. He shows his glory by giving us space and time to live, but also by delivering us from every form of slavery so that we may live as free men and women.

The space of his glory is not only the heavens but, above all, a humble manger in the village of Bethlehem. His birth is not a resounding event like the Israelites crossing the sea. Yet tonight, from the modest inn of Bethlehem, God’s glory is revealed. This is the great mystery we celebrate at Christmas: the Almighty has made himself little; the Eternal has become mortal; the Omnipotent has become weak; the Holy One has become the friend of sinners; the Invisible has made himself visible. From the night of Bethlehem onward, God is not only present among us but he is one of us: sharing in our humanity, the brother of every human being in the world.

In the Child, we contemplate God’s glory—not the glory of a strong, powerful, and demanding God, but the glory of a God who is small, weak, vulnerable, and in need. He has come with great simplicity, humility, and meekness. God does not impose himself or dominate us. “He makes himself small, he becomes a child, so as to attract us with love, to touch our hearts with his humble goodness; to unsettle, with his poverty, those who scramble to accumulate the false treasures of this world” (Pope Francis, December 18, 2015).

God was born fragile, like us, in Bethlehem, to understand us and stand by our side, consoling us and filling us with joy. He was born full of tenderness to give us his forgiveness and to set us free from all our enslavements. He was born as our brother so that we might love our humanity and recognize that every human being is a brother or sister to be welcomed and loved, not a rival or enemy to be defeated and subdued. He was born bringing light to the night, instilling the hope that the injustice prevailing in our society today will not last forever. He was born poor so that we might welcome God in the poor, in those who weep, who are lonely, and those deprived of freedom and dignity. In them, God comes to meet us. For this reason alone, Christmas comes to us only if we are in solidarity with the most marginalized and forgotten people, the victims of injustice and the wickedness of worldly powers.

On the night of Bethlehem, the glory of the Lord shone brightly. We are no longer lost in immense solitude or submerged in total darkness. God has entered history to share our life. With him, we can be reborn; his presence rekindles joy, hope, and fellowship. Only the Child of Bethlehem, from his birth to his death, speaks to us of God and reveals God to us through his life, words, actions, and acts of tenderness. With his hands embracing and healing, with his body offered and surrendered to humanity, on the cross he became a victim of the unjust powers of this world. The Child of Bethlehem is the same Christ who was crucified on Calvary and rose in glory, conquering the world’s injustice, violence, and sin! This is why the night of Bethlehem points us to another night, the night of Easter. In both, God says the same thing: “Be not afraid.” He doesn’t want us to be afraid; he wants us to have no fear. In Bethlehem, the Child smiles at us, conveying his tenderness; at Easter, the Risen One looks at us with mercy, freeing us from despair, evil, and sin.

Let’s experience this Eucharist with the same gaze as the Virgin Mary, who—filled with wonder—contemplated the mystery and, with her heart overflowing with joy, embraced the child of her womb. May she, who “was able to turn a stable into a home for Jesus with poor swaddling clothes and an abundance of love” (Evangelii Gaudium 286), help us to welcome the glory of the Lord manifested in the Child of Bethlehem. He is “the Savior,” the only one in whom we can place our ultimate hope. May his glory enlighten our hearts and guide our steps.

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, The Nativity of the Lord
Christmas 2018, Mass during the Night

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: This icon of the Nativity comes from St. Paul Orthodox Church in Dayton, Ohio. The iconographer is Dmitry Shkolnik. Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobosh / Flickr (Some rights reserved)

#Bethlehem #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #BlessedVirginMary #Christmas #God #humanity #humility #invisible #nativity #poverty #resurrectionOfChrist

Quote of the day, 24 December: Bishop Silvio José Báez, ocd

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace for those he favours” (Lk 2:14). These words conclude tonight’s Gospel reading for this holy night of Christmas. They are the joyful proclamation of the angels who praise God at the birth of Jesus, the Savior. Heaven lifts up its voice. The interpretation of what was unfolding that night in the humble inn of Bethlehem could only come from on high. Only God himself, through his angels, could lead us into the grandeur of this mystery of love and tenderness: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace for those he favours.”

The birth of the Child is a manifestation of God’s glory. In Scripture, God’s glory is his loving and saving power poured out for humanity. It is not vanity, not a self-centered display of greatness, nor a boastful show of power. God reveals his glory by loving us and giving us life. He revealed his glory in creating the universe for humanity’s sake, as the psalmist says: “The heavens declare the glory of God, the vault of heaven proclaims his handiwork” (Ps 19:1). Similarly, the Lord “covered himself in glory” when he liberated the Israelites from Pharaoh’s power, leading them through the sea on their way to the land of freedom (cf. Ex 15:1). God is glorified when he creates and when he saves. His glory is revealed in the universe and in history. He shows his glory by giving us space and time to live, but also by delivering us from every form of slavery so that we may live as free men and women.

The space of his glory is not only the heavens but, above all, a humble manger in the village of Bethlehem. His birth is not a resounding event like the Israelites crossing the sea. Yet tonight, from the modest inn of Bethlehem, God’s glory is revealed. This is the great mystery we celebrate at Christmas: the Almighty has made himself little; the Eternal has become mortal; the Omnipotent has become weak; the Holy One has become the friend of sinners; the Invisible has made himself visible. From the night of Bethlehem onward, God is not only present among us but he is one of us: sharing in our humanity, the brother of every human being in the world.

In the Child, we contemplate God’s glory—not the glory of a strong, powerful, and demanding God, but the glory of a God who is small, weak, vulnerable, and in need. He has come with great simplicity, humility, and meekness. God does not impose himself or dominate us. “He makes himself small, he becomes a child, so as to attract us with love, to touch our hearts with his humble goodness; to unsettle, with his poverty, those who scramble to accumulate the false treasures of this world” (Pope Francis, December 18, 2015).

God was born fragile, like us, in Bethlehem, to understand us and stand by our side, consoling us and filling us with joy. He was born full of tenderness to give us his forgiveness and to set us free from all our enslavements. He was born as our brother so that we might love our humanity and recognize that every human being is a brother or sister to be welcomed and loved, not a rival or enemy to be defeated and subdued. He was born bringing light to the night, instilling the hope that the injustice prevailing in our society today will not last forever. He was born poor so that we might welcome God in the poor, in those who weep, who are lonely, and those deprived of freedom and dignity. In them, God comes to meet us. For this reason alone, Christmas comes to us only if we are in solidarity with the most marginalized and forgotten people, the victims of injustice and the wickedness of worldly powers.

On the night of Bethlehem, the glory of the Lord shone brightly. We are no longer lost in immense solitude or submerged in total darkness. God has entered history to share our life. With him, we can be reborn; his presence rekindles joy, hope, and fellowship. Only the Child of Bethlehem, from his birth to his death, speaks to us of God and reveals God to us through his life, words, actions, and acts of tenderness. With his hands embracing and healing, with his body offered and surrendered to humanity, on the cross he became a victim of the unjust powers of this world. The Child of Bethlehem is the same Christ who was crucified on Calvary and rose in glory, conquering the world’s injustice, violence, and sin! This is why the night of Bethlehem points us to another night, the night of Easter. In both, God says the same thing: “Be not afraid.” He doesn’t want us to be afraid; he wants us to have no fear. In Bethlehem, the Child smiles at us, conveying his tenderness; at Easter, the Risen One looks at us with mercy, freeing us from despair, evil, and sin.

Let’s experience this Eucharist with the same gaze as the Virgin Mary, who—filled with wonder—contemplated the mystery and, with her heart overflowing with joy, embraced the child of her womb. May she, who “was able to turn a stable into a home for Jesus with poor swaddling clothes and an abundance of love” (Evangelii Gaudium 286), help us to welcome the glory of the Lord manifested in the Child of Bethlehem. He is “the Savior,” the only one in whom we can place our ultimate hope. May his glory enlighten our hearts and guide our steps.

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, The Nativity of the Lord
Christmas 2018, Mass during the Night

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: This icon of the Nativity comes from St. Paul Orthodox Church in Dayton, Ohio. The iconographer is Dmitry Shkolnik. Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobosh / Flickr (Some rights reserved)

#Bethlehem #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #BlessedVirginMary #Christmas #God #humanity #humility #invisible #nativity #poverty #resurrectionOfChrist

Quote of the day, 9 December: Silvio José Báez, ocd

In Mary’s life, the grace of God, which had filled her from the first moment of her being, was not “received in vain” (cf. 2 Cor 6:1). She was always “full of grace,” the “tota pulchra,” as we call her in the Marian antiphon.

What is the secret behind the beauty of Mary’s life? The Virgin Mary was the transparency of God.

Mary used to listen to God and spent much time in dialogue with Him. “The Word of God was her secret: close to her heart, it then became flesh in her womb. By dwelling with God, in dialogue with him in every circumstance, Mary made her life beautiful.” (Pope Francis, Angelus, 8 December 2017).

It is not the outward appearance that makes a person beautiful. What makes a life beautiful is having a heart that is open to God, docile to God, and full of God.

Beauty is like the gleam of harmony. It is essential to the notion of the beautiful that beauty should be united to truth and goodness. The irradiation of that harmony between truth and goodness is beauty.

God is supreme goodness, supreme truth, and supreme beauty, which in Christ has been fully revealed as redeeming love. The famous Russian writer Dostoyevsky said that beauty would save the world. Beauty awakens our spirituality, brings out the best in us, captivates us, makes us transcend the merely material, and makes us enter the world of generosity and contemplation.

Unfortunately, many people are deprived of beauty because where sin breaks down dialogue with God and distances us from love, beauty disappears. For this reason, we must turn our eyes to Mary, whose beautiful, luminous, inspiring existence continues to attract us, the disciples of her Son, who contemplate in her the best realization of the Gospel and the ideal of the Church’s vocation.

The Virgin Mary, the “all beautiful,” the “full of grace,” is the creature in whom the paschal beauty of the new life of the Risen Lord was reflected in the purest way.

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Giovanni Battista Tiepolo’s majestic image of The Immaculate Conception was part of a cycle of seven altarpieces commissioned in 1767 for the new royal church of San Pascual Bailón at Aranjuez, founded by Charles III in the same year.  The symbols in the altarpiece refer to the virtues and significance of the Virgin. She vindicates the original weakness of Eve by trampling on the serpent. The palm tree symbolizes her victory and exaltation and the mirror symbolizes her freedom from all stain. The crescent moon and twelve stars refer to the Woman of the Apocalypse (Rev 12:1-10), while the crescent itself is an ancient symbol of chastity. At the same time, the moon’s light derives from the sun, just as the special grace of Mary derives from the merits of Christ. The shimmering profile of an obelisk shape in the background is a further reference to traditional symbols associated with the Immaculate Conception—the Tower of David and the Tower of Ivory—with their evocations of impregnability, virginity, and purity. Image credit: Copyright ©Museo Nacional del Prado (Public domain)

#beauty #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #BlessedVirginMary #God #homily #ImmaculateConception #inspiration #spirituality

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. In fulfillment of his own purpose he gave us birth by the word of truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures.

Welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.

Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.

Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

James 1:17-18, 21b-22, 27

Authentic Christianity is not based on words but on concrete deeds. The believer has been brought forth by the Father through the “word of truth,” that is, through the gospel of Christ, “so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures” (v. 18).

For this reason, believers must live in fidelity to the Word that has brought them forth and has the power to lead them to the fullness of salvation: “Welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls” (v. 21b). The Word must be received with humility, without resistance or violence, so that it may be planted in our lives; it will then bear fruit when put into practice.

For James, the ultimate point of listening to the Word is reached when it becomes life: “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves” (v. 22). It is of little use to listen to and know the Word of God if it is not put into practice.

Those who live in obedience to the Word of God will overcome the temptation to live a ritualistic and external religion, focusing their existence on two aspects that are fundamental in the life of a believer according to divine revelation: (a) The practice of works of mercy towards the poorest, symbolized in the text by the expression “orphans and widows”; and (b) “To keep oneself unstained by the world,” that is, to live a life guided not by self-centeredness (cf. 1 Jn 2:15-17).

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Flemish artist Michiel Sweerts (1618–1664) painted Clothing the Naked around 1661, most likely for a Catholic patron while Sweerts was living in Amsterdam in the 1650s and early 1660s. Around this time he joined the Paris Foreign Missions Society (of which St. Thérèse’s spiritual brother Adolphe Roulland was a member) and left for a mission in the Far East. This painting, executed in 1661 in oil on canvas, exemplifies the profound conversion of the artist. It is on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue, New York. Image credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art (Public domain)

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/08/31/quote-of-the-day-1-september-silvio-jose-baez-ocd/

#authentic #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #humility #mercy #salvation #truth #WordOfGod #worksOfMercy

For me, the episcopal ministry has been a very special grace, the opportunity God gives me to be able to serve as a pastor to God’s people. The most difficult thing has been to fight against my egoism, my own sin, my human limitations, my imperfections, but as Saint Paul says, when we are weak, then we are strong (Cf. 2 Cor 2:10).

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.
Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Titular Bishop of Zica

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d. is one of nineteen living bishops who are affiliated with the Discalced Carmelite order; he is the Auxiliary Bishop of the Archdiocese of Managua.

Bishop Báez began his Discalced Carmelite formation in the General Delegation of Central America in 1979 and was ordained a priest on 15 January 1985. He pursued advanced studies in Sacred Scripture, biblical geography, and archeology, not only in Rome but also in Jerusalem.

In 1999, Bishop Báez defended his doctoral thesis in biblical theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome on the subject, Tiempo de callar y tiempo de hablar: el silencio en la Biblia Hebrea (A time to keep silence, and a time to speak: Silence in the Hebrew Bible).

Going on to serve as a seminary professor, Bishop Báez authored numerous articles and books, and has been a frequent speaker at conferences and retreats. He also served as a member of the Council of the Discalced Carmelite friars’ General Delegation of Central America.

In 2006 Bishop Báez was appointed Vice-President of the Pontifical Faculty of Theology Teresianum in Rome, where he was a Professor of Sacred Scripture, also teaching Biblical Theology and Spirituality; in addition, he was the editor of the theology journal Teresianum. On 9 April 2009 Pope Benedict XVI appointed him Auxiliary Bishop of Managua and Titular Bishop of Zica.

On 30 May 2009 Silvio José Báez, o.c.d., was consecrated bishop in the Cathedral of Managua. The principal consecrator was Archbishop Leopoldo José Brenes Solórzano, Archbishop of Managua; the principal co-consecrators were the Apostolic Nuncio, Archbishop Henryk Józef Nowacki,  and Bishop César Bosco Vivas Robelo, Bishop of León en Nicaragua.

You may view Bishop Báez’s episcopal lineage here.

Featured image: Bishop Báez is seen with pilgrims at World Youth Day in Panama, January 2019. Image credit: Silvio José Báez Facebook page (Used by permission)

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/05/29/baez-30may2009/

#anniversary #AuxiliaryBishop #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #consecration #DiscalcedCarmelite #episcopalLineage #friars #Managua #ministry #pastor #StPaul

For me, the episcopal ministry has been a very special grace, the opportunity God gives me to be able to serve as a pastor to God’s people. The most difficult thing has been to fight against my egoism, my own sin, my human limitations, my imperfections, but as Saint Paul says, when we are weak, then we are strong (Cf. 2 Cor 2:10).

Bishop Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.
Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Titular Bishop of Zica

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d. is one of nineteen living bishops who are affiliated with the Discalced Carmelite order; he is the Auxiliary Bishop of the Archdiocese of Managua.

Bishop Báez began his Discalced Carmelite formation in the General Delegation of Central America in 1979 and was ordained a priest on 15 January 1985. He pursued advanced studies in Sacred Scripture, biblical geography, and archeology, not only in Rome but also in Jerusalem.

In 1999, Bishop Báez defended his doctoral thesis in biblical theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome on the subject, Tiempo de callar y tiempo de hablar: el silencio en la Biblia Hebrea (A time to keep silence, and a time to speak: Silence in the Hebrew Bible).

Going on to serve as a seminary professor, Bishop Báez authored numerous articles and books, and has been a frequent speaker at conferences and retreats. He also served as a member of the Council of the Discalced Carmelite friars’ General Delegation of Central America.

In 2006 Bishop Báez was appointed Vice-President of the Pontifical Faculty of Theology Teresianum in Rome, where he was a Professor of Sacred Scripture, also teaching Biblical Theology and Spirituality; in addition, he was the editor of the theology journal Teresianum. On 9 April 2009 Pope Benedict XVI appointed him Auxiliary Bishop of Managua and Titular Bishop of Zica.

On 30 May 2009 Silvio José Báez, o.c.d., was consecrated bishop in the Cathedral of Managua. The principal consecrator was Archbishop Leopoldo José Brenes Solórzano, Archbishop of Managua; the principal co-consecrators were the Apostolic Nuncio, Archbishop Henryk Józef Nowacki,  and Bishop César Bosco Vivas Robelo, Bishop of León en Nicaragua.

You may view Bishop Báez’s episcopal lineage here.

Featured image: Bishop Báez is seen with pilgrims at World Youth Day in Panama, January 2019. Image credit: Silvio José Báez Facebook page (Used by permission)

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/05/29/baez-30may2009/

#anniversary #AuxiliaryBishop #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #consecration #DiscalcedCarmelite #episcopalLineage #friars #Managua #ministry #pastor #StPaul

At the end of the gospel account of the Annunciation of the Lord to the Virgin Mary, we hear that “the angel departed from her” (Lk 1:38). He simply left. Our Lady’s life was spent in the simplest daily routine, like the life of any other young woman of Nazareth.

Mary, “full of grace,” was not spared the fatigue of living, the weariness of daily work, and the difficulties and problems of every human being. Mary knew the arduous path of faith; she was often plunged into the darkness of the night and “a sword pierced her soul” (Lk 2:35) at the foot of the cross.

Nevertheless, in Mary’s life God’s grace, which had filled her from the first moment of her being, was not “received in vain” (2 Cor 6:1). She was always “full of grace,” the “all beautiful” (tota pulchra) as we acclaim her in hymns and antiphons.

What is the secret of the beauty of Mary’s life? The Virgin Mary was the transparency of God. Mary was accustomed to listening to God; she spent much time in dialogue with Him.

Silvio José Báez, o.c.d.

Auxiliary Bishop of Managua
Homily, Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, 2022 (excerpts)

Translation from the Spanish text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: This majestic image was part of a cycle of seven altarpieces commissioned in 1767 for the new royal church of San Pascual Bailón at Aranjuez, founded by Charles III in the same year.  The symbols in the altarpiece refer to the virtues and significance of the Virgin. She vindicates the original weakness of Eve by trampling on the serpent. The palm tree symbolizes her victory and exaltation and the mirror symbolizes her freedom from all stain. The crescent moon and twelve stars refer to the Woman of the Apocalypse (Rev 12:1-10), while the crescent itself is an ancient symbol of chastity. At the same time, the moon’s light derives from the sun, just as the special grace of Mary derives from the merits of Christ. The shimmering profile of an obelisk shape in the background is a further reference to traditional symbols associated with the Immaculate Conception—the Tower of David and the Tower of Ivory—with their evocations of impregnability, virginity, and purity. Image credit: Copyright ©Museo Nacional del Prado (Public domain)

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/05/10/mdj2024-11/

#Annunciation #beauty #BishopSilvioJoséBáez #BlessedVirginMary #darkness #faith #grace #ImmaculateConception #inspiration #listening

"The Lord’s resurrection assures us that despite fears, failures, and threats, no effort we make to defend life, human dignity, and freedom ever will be lost."
#BishopSilvioJoseBaez

#Jesus #resurrection #justice #peace #peacemaker #defense #life #dignity #freedom #humanity #humanrights #religiousfreedom #sosnicaragua #nicaragua #catholic #carmelite #quotes