Today we celebrate the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, the mother and head of all churches in the world — a reminder that our faith is not only personal but communal, not just spiritual but embodied in real places and real people.

The Lateran Basilica, dedicated to Christ the Saviour, stands in Rome as a sign of the unity of the Church. It reminds us that we are all part of something larger — one body, one family, one temple of living stones. As St. Paul says, “You are God’s building… God’s temple, and the Spirit of God dwells in you” (1 Cor 3:9,16).

On this same weekend, our parish gathers to remember those members of our own community who have died during the past year. Their names are written not just in our parish register, but in our hearts. Their absence leaves empty pews, quiet chairs, and tender memories. Yet their lives remain part of this living temple — the communion of saints — joined forever in the love of Christ.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus enters the temple and drives out those who have turned it into a marketplace. It is a dramatic moment — but at its heart is a call to renewal. Jesus is not attacking the temple itself; he is restoring its purpose. “Stop turning my Father’s house into a marketplace,” he says. The temple is meant to be a place of encounter, prayer, and presence — a dwelling of God among His people.

Today, that same call echoes in our hearts.

Each of us is a dwelling place of God’s Spirit. But so often our lives — and even our Church — can become cluttered with distraction, fear, or self-interest. Christ comes not to condemn us, but to cleanse and renew us, so that we might again become a place where God’s love dwells and shines.

As we remember our deceased parishioners, we give thanks for the ways they helped build this spiritual house — through faith, service, kindness, and prayer. Their love helped shape this parish into a true home of faith. And now, we trust that they dwell in the eternal temple — the house not made with hands — where Christ is the light that never fades.

Death, too, is a kind of cleansing — a letting go of all that is temporary, a passing into the fullness of God’s presence. In that sense, our prayer for the dead is not only about remembrance, but about hope. We believe that just as Jesus raised the temple of his body on the third day, so too will God raise up those who have died in Christ.

So today, as we light candles, as we whisper names in love and in faith, we are reminded that this Church — and indeed every church — is more than stone and mortar. It is built of souls, past and present, living and departed, all bound together in Christ, the true and living Temple.

May this feast renew in us the zeal that consumed Jesus — a zeal not of anger, but of love: love for God’s house, love for God’s people, and love for all those who have gone before us into the eternal dwelling place of peace.