Optional Memorial of Saint Sebastian, Martyr

Brief Background:

St. Sebastian was a 3rd-century Roman soldier who secretly lived his Christian faith during a time of fierce persecution under Emperor Diocletian. Using his position, he encouraged and supported imprisoned Christians. When his faith was discovered, he was ordered to be executed by arrows and left for dead, but he survived. Instead of fleeing, he returned to publicly confront the emperor about the persecution of Christians and was then beaten to death, giving his life as a martyr. He is honored as the patron saint of athletes, soldiers, and those suffering from illness, and is remembered as a powerful witness of courage, perseverance, and fidelity to Christ.

REFLECTION:

A week ago, we had our staff meeting, and I reminded everyone of something very simple and very important: whenever we are unsure, distracted, or pulled in many directions, we must always go back to our mission — Noblesse Oblige. Everything we do as a school has to flow from that. When we lose the mission, even good things can slowly drift off course.

In the same way, in the Church, I often find myself guiding our parishioners back to what is essential. We have to keep going back to Jesus in the Eucharist. We have to keep returning to the heart of who we are as Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish. Not to preferences. Not even to good and holy devotions — not even to St. Michael the Archangel (and there is absolutely nothing wrong with St. Michael). But the center must always remain Jesus. Because when the center shifts, even slightly, everything else eventually becomes confused.

That is exactly what we see God doing in today’s Scripture. God says to Samuel: “I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen my king from among his sons.”

Notice where God sends him. Not to a palace. Not to Jerusalem. Not to somewhere impressive. God sends Samuel back to Bethlehem — a small, ordinary, humble place. Why Bethlehem? Because in Scripture, we often see that when God is about to do something new, He goes back to what is foundational.

Jesus goes back to the Jordan, where His public mission begins. Jesus goes back to the garden, Gethsemane, where obedience begins to heal the disobedience of Eden. And here, God goes back to Bethlehem — a place already marked by quiet faithfulness in the story of Ruth and Boaz, and now the place where a shepherd boy will be anointed king.

When God goes back, He is not going backward. He is restoring, fulfilling, and setting things right.

Samuel arrives at Jesse’s house and almost makes the same mistake we often make. He looks at the older sons — strong, confident, impressive — and thinks, “Surely this must be the one.” But God stops him with those words we all need to hear again and again: “Not as man sees does God see. Man looks at appearances; God looks at the heart.”

And then comes the surprise. The chosen one is not even in the room. David is out in the fields, tending sheep. The future king is found not in a place of honor, but in an ordinary place, doing ordinary, faithful work.

God chooses Bethlehem because God loves to begin His greatest works in humble places. And this is not an accident. Because centuries later, God will send the whole world back to Bethlehem again — not to find just a king, but the King. Not David, but Jesus. Not in a palace. Not in power. But in simplicity, hiddenness, and humility.

It is as if God is teaching us something about how He works: He brings us back to what matters. He brings us back to the foundation. He brings us back to the heart. And that brings us back to us.

Most of our lives are not lived on big stages. They are lived in our own Bethlehems — in homes and families, in classrooms and offices, in hospitals and quiet routines, in daily responsibilities and unseen sacrifices. And yet, that is exactly where God is forming hearts.

David is anointed in Bethlehem, but he does not become king right away. There will be years of waiting, growing, failing, and learning. Bethlehem reminds us that God’s call often begins long before God’s plan is fully revealed.

The same is true for us — as a school, as a parish, and as individuals. That is why we must keep going back: Back to our mission. Back to what defines us. Back to Jesus. Back to the heart.

So maybe the real question is not, “Why Bethlehem?” But rather: “Where is my Bethlehem?” Where is the place God is asking me to be faithful? Where is He quietly shaping my heart? Where is He calling me back to what truly matters?

Because every time God brings us back, He is not repeating the past — He is redeeming it. He goes back to the Jordan. He goes back to the garden. He goes back to Bethlehem. And He keeps calling us back too — to the center, to the mission, to the heart.