Brothers and Sisters,

 ❤️ ❤️ What do all those emojis mean?

How many heart-shaped images or smiley faces have we seen? Language is constantly evolving, and with modern technology making communication and travel so swift, this evolution seems to happen faster than ever. These changes allow us to speak of new experiences more clearly, but they can also risk diluting the richness of meaning.

Take, for instance, the meaning of the heart. A cardiologist might give one answer, yet scripture offers another. With context, we can discern whether we’re referring to the vital organ that keeps us alive or the symbolic “heart” of our very being. The scriptural understanding of the heart, though, has been slowly eroded. Today, “heart” often refers to our emotions alone. Love, then, is reduced to simply “the greatest emotion.” Yet in scripture, the heart isn’t about emotional intelligence; it speaks to the core of our identity. The heart is our very essence.

Pope Francis has gifted us a profound letter titled Dilexit Nos, meaning “He loved us” (read it in full here: https://bit.ly/3A0Ncok). As we listen to this weekend’s Gospel, let’s not overlook the familiar command to love god and our neighbor, but instead open our hearts to truly hear the Lord’s call to grow in love and charity. In Dilexit Nos, the Holy Father Francis speaks to us as a father to his children, cautioning us against losing our identity. The world offers countless distractions, and if we yield to them, our hearts become divided. Yet the pope’s message is not one of despair but of immense trust that God speaks to us heart to heart, inviting us to share in his love. Through the sacraments, we encounter the living God, proclaiming in our worship and adoration a confidence in Jesus who is close, compassionate, and tender. In a section called “Echoes in History,” Pope Francis shows how saints devoted their hearts to Christ.

St. Margaret Mary Alacoque recalls Jesus’ words to her, saying, “He asked for my heart, which I asked him to take, which he did and then placed me in his own adorable heart…” (Autobiography, n. 53 as quoted in Dilexit Nos, §123).

This week, let’s spend time in prayer, asking, “Lord, how am I to give you my heart?” Let’s invite the Lord to help us respond as St. Margaret Mary did. This is the path to sainthood—not for our own sake but for the Lord’s, for he deserves our love and devotion. May we pray together that our Heavenly Father raises up many saints within our parish, our archdiocese, and the church universal!

As we celebrated All Souls Day on November 2nd, let our hearts be filled with memories of our departed loved ones, praying for their entry into the joy of heaven. All Souls is also a time to remember our own mortality—not in a morbid way, but as a reminder of our hope that the Lord has created us to be with him. Our union with him is fulfilled in the glory of his kingdom, and preparing for this union is our lifelong task. Draw close to the sacraments. Commit to daily habits of prayer, setting time aside for contemplation, and practicing attentiveness to the Lord’s presence. Live out this faith through acts of mercy, caring for our brothers and sisters.

When preparing for the final journey of life, remember that the Eucharist holds a special place as the sacrament of union with Christ. While priests often begin with the sacrament of anointing when ministering to the gravely ill, which is both good and right, the Eucharist—especially when received as Viaticum, or “food for the journey”—is a profound gift for our final moments. Given that the last hours of life may bring limited consciousness or the inability to interact and engage with others, I encourage you to reach out sooner to loved ones who may be in poor health, even if death seems months away. Just as we desire to remain close to the Lord in the Eucharist throughout life, let us ensure that same closeness for our loved ones in their final days.

May we all experience the peace of Christ’s presence in life and in death, resting in the hope of eternal life with him.