This year St. Michael’s is celebrating its 110th anniversary. When a parish turns “eleventy,” it’s a good opportunity to pause and reflect on where we’ve been and where God may be inviting us to go. Fr. Herman’s homily from August 30th explores some of the triumphs, challenges, and needs of our parish, as viewed through the lens of the parable of the wedding banquet and its many invited guests (Matt. 22:1–14).

All those who regularly or occasionally worship with us at St. Michael’s are warmly encouraged to read or listen to this sermon as well as the one from the following week.

Homily for the 15th Sunday after Pentecost: the Parable of the Wedding Guests (Aug. 30th, 2026)

Fr. Herman Majkrzak

BROTHERS AND SISTERS, this parable of the wedding banquet we’ve just heard comes in St. Matthew’s Gospel immediately after the parable we heard last week about the unworthy tenants of the vineyard. Both parables were given by our Lord in the last week of his life, as the conflict between him and the religious leaders was heating up to boiling. As I mentioned last week, it’s therefore fitting that we encounter these parables in the Sundays leading up to the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, which will be two weeks from tomorrow.

But it’s particularly fitting that we hear this parable about the wedding today on August 30th. Yesterday, August 29th, was the feast of the Beheading of the Forerunner, St. John the Baptist. And this feast is so important that it’s actually two days long. Today is what we call the “afterfeast” or “post-feast.” And when it comes to weddings, St. John the Baptist has something to say. He called himself the “friend of the Bridegroom” (Jn. 3:29). (That word “bridegroom,” you may know, is what we mean when today we say “groom” – in other words, the man who’s getting married.) St. John said that Christ is the Bridegroom, he’s the man getting married: he’s marrying his Church, his Bride. But St. John said about himself that he is the “friend of the Bridegroom,” what we might today call the “best man”: the one responsible for making sure that everything at that wedding goes well, that it’s a good and joyful experience for everyone.

Now I said that the Church is the Bride of Christ. That’s probably an idea familiar to us all. But we can also say that the Church is the “wedding hall,” the banquet hall. It’s where the party happens. “Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb” (Rev. 19:9). This party, this banquet, is the Eucharist, the celebration of thanksgiving and communion that in the Latin tradition is usually called “Mass,” but which here in the Byzantine rite we don’t call “Mass” but rather “Liturgy,” more fully “divine Liturgy.” And of course there are other important services as well, like Vespers, Matins, Compline. But Liturgy is the most important, because it’s here that we are the guests of Christ at his wedding banquet. And the food that is served to us is Christ himself: his holy and life-giving Body and Blood.

Today, brothers and sisters, I’d like to reflect with you on the kind of “banquet” that is prepared and offered at least once a week here at St. Michael’s. I said that the food of this banquet is Christ himself, and so in that sense whether you’re here at St. Michael’s or down the road at St. Monica’s or St. Joe’s or any other Catholic parish in this area or throughout the whole world, it is the same banquet that you’re attending: the same food, the same spiritual nourishment. 

And yet we also see how there can be great differences in the way this mystical Food is prepared, the way it’s served, the way we celebrate and sing and dance and show our love for our beloved Bridegroom. Obviously at any banquet the food is the most important element, but it’s far from the only element. St. Michael’s belongs to one of the many Eastern Catholic churches that exist throughout the world and that are in full communion with the Pope and thus with the entire Catholic Church, including the Roman Catholic Church. In this part of the world, if you say you’re Catholic, most people assume that you mean you’re Roman Catholic. And yet, starting a hundred and ten years ago, St. Michael’s has existed here in Mishawaka, amidst a densely Catholic population, as a reminder that there are other ways of being Catholic Christians besides the Roman way.

I said 110 years ago. We haven’t said a lot about this yet, but this year, 2026, is our 110th anniversary. We were founded in 1916. This is a good thing to mention now, because next Sunday is one of our two patronal feast days: Sept. 6th is a minor feast of St. Michael the Archangel—his major, principal feast is November 8th, which is also on a Sunday this year. So this building is 110 years old, and so is the rectory. 

This beautiful church was planted here by Eastern Catholics, specifically by Greek Catholics, and more specifically by people who at the time referred to themselves as “Hungarian Greek Catholics,” not because they were from what today we’d think of as Hungary but because they came from what was then the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which included Ukrainian regions as well. Why did they come to Indiana? We could delve into the historical and economic currents that brought so many waves of Eastern European immigrants to America in the early 20th century. But I believe there is a deeper reason. They came here because the Holy Spirit was inviting them to do so. It says in the very last chapter of the Bible: “The Spirit and the Bride say ‘come!’” (Rev. 22:17). I think the Holy Spirit was saying to the founders of our parish, “Come to a new land, where there are already a lot of Catholics, but come and build a banquet hall where they will be able to see a different way of being Catholic. Come and fill this wedding hall with beauty and joy and prayer and love.” And that’s exactly what they did!

And it can’t have been easy. Not just because of the social and economic challenges of migrating to a new continent. But also because of profound limitations in what the Catholic Church in America was able to offer. At that time there was only one Greek Catholic bishop in the entire country, Bishop Soter Ortynsky of Philadelphia, and he died the same year our church was founded: 1916. His successor didn’t arrive until eight years after Bishop Soter’s death. (His name was Metropolitan Constantine Bohachevksy.) Meanwhile, there was a lot of suspicion and even, unfortunately, hostility from some of the more powerful Roman Catholic bishops in America. Clergy were scarce, support was scarce. 

And so what happened here at St. Michael’s? You may not have known this, but early on in our parish history, St. Michael’s actually left the Catholic Church. It went into schism, it went into one of the Eastern Orthodox churches. And St Michael’s was not alone in this. In the early 20th century, there were in fact dozens and dozens of Greek Catholic churches in America that did the same. But – and this is really amazing – St. Michael’s came back. And I’m not personally aware of any other church that did that. In the mid-60s, through what can only be described as a work of God’s Providence, many of the parishioners here perceived a call to return to full communion with the Catholic Church. It wasn’t easy; there was disagreement and even legal battle. There was great personal sacrifice on the part of one of the families who are still active in our parish, the Cacarabs. But there again, what was behind all this? I believe the Holy Spirit invited them. “Come, fill my wedding banquet with guests. Those whom I first called left and went into another church. But my Catholic Church in Mishawaka still needs to have Eastern Catholicism as a jewel in its crown. Come back and let us feast together!” 

Between then and now, over these last sixty years, there’ve been a lot of changes here. There was a major fire inside the church in the 70s, requiring major renovations, an entirely new iconostasis and altar. There’ve been other ups and downs. There hasn’t always been a priest in residence, but rather someone might come from Chicago every weekend. My predecessor, dear Fr. Volodymyr, did this for eight years. That meant that lay people who loved St. Michael’s really had to step up and keep things going. It’s not much of an exaggeration to say that this parish is still here today because of the sacrificial and heroic love of three couples in particular. Two of those couples are still with us; and the third, Richard and Joan Brown, both died fairly recently. We’ll have prayers for the one-year anniversary of Richard’s death towards the end of September. But these three couples responded to God’s invitation with great dedication and fervor,

And so many others in more recent years, and even in this past year since I arrived just over a year ago, offer so much to this place. I am filled with gratitude for the love that so many people have for St. Michael’s. 

But also, like St. John the Baptist, I, as the parish priest, take the roll of the “friend of the Bridegroom.” I too must say “Come!” I must repeatedly say “Come! Fill God’s banquet house; fill the table’s at Christ’s wedding supper!” — this wedding supper that, in the most important sense, is exactly the same banquet as is served at every other Catholic church in the area, but which, in so many other ways that are also very important, is unique: a banquet that only St. Michael’s can offer. “Come!” The difficult days of the covid pandemic – during which many stopped coming to St. Michael’s, and some have never returned – those days are now long past. “You are invited!” Over the past few years there’s been a huge increase of interest and love for Eastern Christianity throughout America, especially among young people. This as our opportunity to show the fullness of our Byzantine tradition celebrated and offered not in schism but in full communion with the one Catholic Church. “Come!”

And, as the friend of the Bridegroom, I see many ways in which this banquet can be more full, so many jobs that need doing, so many tasks that need dedicated, reliable, and consistent hands prepared to welcome the wedding guests, week in and week out: ushers to welcome them and help them get oriented; cantors to lead the singing and even provide a four-part choir; sacristans to make sure everything is in order and in place before each service; altar servers to add solemnity and decorum to the celebration and to assist the priest in his work; people to collect offerings; people – it should be at least two, ideally three – to count and record what has been offered and get it to the bank; catechists to begin teaching our little ones and forming them in our own unique way of being Catholic; church cleaners and kitchen cleaners and basement cleaners and garage cleaners; ironers and launderers and florists to make this wedding hall pristine and lovely and radiant every Sunday, every feast day, week in and week out. Interior designers and landscapers and architects to restore and renovate and add to our building structures so that we have room to do everything we need – which we currently lack.

And this all is much more than the work that three couples or even six couples could do, however dedicated they might be. If there are between fifteen and twenty adults who come to St. Michael’s consistently, every single week, except when they’re out of town, even that is hardly enough, especially seeing how several of them have very young children with all that that entails.

But if we factor in all that people that come St. Michael’s twice a month, even once a month, even once every two months: this number is now far more than fifteen or twenty. It’s more like a hundred or 150. Perhaps some of them – perhaps some of you – are hearing a call from the Holy Spirit today: “Come! Make my banquet hall full! Even if you were not born and raised as Greek Catholic – or even if you were, but have mostly forgotten what that’s all about, or never quite knew to begin with — come! Be my guests! But also, welcome my guests. Prepare the banquet hall for them. Come, let us sup together” says the Lord. Amen.