By Archbishop Thomas Wenski - The Archdiocese of Miami
Archbishop Thomas Wenski's homily at Mass for the second day of the Annual Priest Convocation. Fort Lauderdale, FL, Sept. 16, 2026.
Saints Cornelius and Cyprian
In today’s Gospel, Jesus highlights the heavy, exhausting burden of trying to satisfy a cynical world. He describes a generation that sits in the marketplace, completely immobilized by criticism. “We played the flute for you, but you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not weep.”
No matter how the grace of God manifested—whether through the fierce, quiet fasting of John the Baptist or the joyful, welcoming feast of Jesus—the critics found a reason to stay on the sidelines. [1]
Brothers, ministry in the modern world can often feel like sitting in that marketplace. We face constant, conflicting expectations from all sides. If we are traditional, we are labeled rigid; if we are innovative, we are labeled too lax. It is incredibly easy to let this constant noise drain our spirit, tempting us to withdraw into a safe, protective detachment just to survive those critiques that often arrived at our desks through anonymous emails.
But Jesus concludes this passage with a beautiful, liberating promise: "Wisdom is vindicated by all her children."
We see this truth perfectly embodied in the two great third-century shepherds the Church celebrates today: Saints Cornelius and Cyprian. They, too, refused to dance to the cynical tunes of the world or the fractured factions of their day. They lived through intense Roman persecutions, but their greatest cross was the internal critique from the marketplace of the Church.
On one side, the Novatian schismatics angrily played a dirge of absolute exclusion, demanding that those who faltered under persecution be permanently cast out.
On the other side, laxists demanded cheap grace, wanting to bypass penance entirely.
Pope Cornelius and Bishop Cyprian refused both extremes. They chose to be children of Divine Wisdom. They chose the path of pastoral mercy balanced with truth, guiding the lapsed back to the sacraments with patient, healing penance. They were heavily criticized, but they stood firm in a beautiful bond of fraternal solidarity. As Cyprian famously wrote to Cornelius: "Let us pray for each other. By the love we share we shall stand firm and endure." [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6]
They did not perform for the spectators. Their ministry was vindicated by the real, living fruits of grace—by the thousands of souls they reconciled to the Eucharist and the ultimate witness of their own martyrdom. [1, 2]
Brothers, you do not have to perform for the marketplace. Your priesthood belongs to Christ. Like Cornelius and Cyprian, you see the children of Wisdom every single day in your parishes: [1]
In the quiet tear of a penitent who finally feels forgiven in your confessional.
In the joyful smile of a parishioner rediscovering their faith through your steady accompaniment.
In the peace of a dying soul anointed by your hands in the middle of the night. [1, 2]
Thank you for your tireless, often hidden fidelity. At this convocation, let us cast off the heavy expectations of the world, lean into the fraternal support of one another, and rediscover the pure, unburdened joy of our first call.
