November 26, 2025 – Red Wednesday; Wednesday of the Thirty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time
Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/112625.cfm)
Today we celebrate Red Wednesday, a day when we remember, honor, and stand in solidarity with Christians around the world who suffer for their faith. We remember and pray for those who are silenced, displaced, threatened, and even killed because they follow Jesus. For most communities, Red Wednesday is a solemn reminder of a suffering happening “somewhere else.” But for us, this day carries a deeper weight and meaning.
We do not remember persecution as something distant. We remember it as something you have survived. You carry scars in your minds, in your bodies, and in your hearts. These are the scars of the 2017 Marawi Siege, and more recently, the 2023 bombing, when violence interrupted our prayer, our peace, our Advent hope.
And yet, here you are. Still praying. Still gathering. Still believing. And still choosing Christ. If the color red symbolizes the blood of martyrs, then the red we wear today also symbolizes your courage, your endurance, and your unbroken faith.
Hence, we are all here because hope, no matter how wounded we are. This is what today’s theme proclaims, “Living Hope Amidst Suffering.”
In the first reading from Prophet Daniel, King Belshazzar holds a feast of arrogance and disrespect. In the middle of his pride and extravagance, a mysterious hand appears and writes on the wall,
“You have been weighed in the balance and found wanting.” Belshazzar used sacred things for selfish purposes. He mocked what was holy. He exalted himself instead of God.
Indeed, persecution anywhere in the world often comes from the same attitude. This is the arrogance that refuses to respect human dignity, a pride that rejects God, and a heart that worships violence more than life. And this may come politically and ideologically motivated.
But while Belshazzar was “found wanting,” you, the people of faith, the survivors, the steadfast disciples, you have been weighed in the balance and found faithful.
You did not give up your faith, even when fear tried to choke it. You did not stop praying, even when prayer became dangerous. You did not stop loving, even when hatred and suspicion tried us.
If the writing on the wall declared judgment on Belshazzar, the writing on your lives declares something else entirely that “You have stood firm in the Lord.”This is hope found alive in us, in each of you.
Moreover, in the Gospel, Jesus warns His disciples that persecution will come. Not “maybe,” not “possibly,” but certainly.
Jesus said, “They will seize you.” “They will hand you over.” “You will be hated because of my name.” Jesus does not sugarcoat discipleship. He does not hide the cost of faith. He does not pretend Christianity as a path of comfort and power.
Indeed, these words are not theoretical for you. You know their truth. Yet, Jesus is not giving this warning to frighten us. The Lord gives it to strengthen us. And so, Jesus now gives us two promises. These promises are born from His own suffering love.
The First Promise is “I will give you words and wisdom.” Jesus assures us that in difficult times, we are never alone in our fear. The Holy Spirit is with us, guiding, strengthening, whispering courage into our trembling hearts. And indeed, this community has spoken words of hope when silence seemed safer. You have shown kindness when anger felt easier. You have extended forgiveness when hatred tried to dominate. You have lived this promise.
The Second Promise is “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” Perseverance, that quiet, stubborn faith that refuses to give up, is what saves us. Not the absence of suffering, not forgetting of memory, but the courage to rise again despite everything.
The siege tried to break us, but you stood. The bombing tried to silence worship, but you returned. Fear tried to isolate you, but you gathered again at the table of Christ.
This is what living hope looks like. A hope that limps but keeps walking. A hope that trembles but keeps believing. And a hope that cries but keeps loving.
Today, Red Wednesday invites us not only to remember suffering, but to remember how God works inside our own suffering.
Hope is not pretending everything is fine. This is merely optimism. Yet, hope is not about being optimistic. Hope is believing that God is working, even when nothing feels fine. Hope does not erase ours tears. It accompanies them. Hope does not deny wounds. It transforms them. And hope does not avoid danger. It gives courage to stand, to remain and be still before the presence of God.
And so, this day is more than commemoration. It is a call to deepen our faith, to widen our compassion, and to strengthen our mission as disciples of the Crucified and Risen Christ.
Because those who have suffered greatly are the very people that God sends to become witnesses of hope for the world. And you, brothers and sisters, are living proof that the Christian story is not a story of defeat, but of resurrection. Our Christian story is not a story of darkness, but of dawn. Not a story of violence, but of victory. This is the victory of love.
Now, Red Wednesday does not simply ask us to remember. It rather invites us to respond. We are asked…
How will we honor the suffering of others if we do not let our own suffering teach us compassion?
How will we carry the memory of our wounds if they do not lead us to deepen our prayer, widen our love, and strengthen our commitment to peace?
How can we claim to follow a crucified King if we refuse the path of forgiveness, reconciliation, and hope?
Indeed, suffering can make us bitter or better. It can harden our hearts or open them. It can close our hands or make them instruments of healing. Being persecuted, certainly, does not give us permission to hate. It gives us a mission to love even more dearly. Being hurt does not give us the right to close our hearts. It gives us the grace to open them wider. Being attacked does not mean our story ends in fear and trauma. It means Christ calls us towards courage, healing, unity, and peace.
We now realize that living hope amidst suffering is not passive. It is a choice. A daily, brave, exhausting, and holy choice. And so, I leave you now three takeaways to make hope alive in us.
First, pray intentionally this week for those who have hurt you. Even a simple prayer: “Lord, bless them. Heal them. Change their hearts.” This maybe a difficult prayer to make for those who have hurt us but also powerful in transforming our hearts.
Second, reach out to someone who suffers in silence. A neighbor who is afraid. A young student who is traumatized. A parent who is struggling or sick. Sit with them. Listen to them. And be a small beam of Christ’s light and love.
Third, commit one concrete act of peace-building. Repair a relationship. Start a dialogue. Help rebuild a broken community bond.
Friends, you have passed through fire, but the fire has not consumed you. Let is refine you. On this Red Wednesday, may your courage shine, your wounds speak truth, and your faith stand as a beacon of hope for a world that desperately needs it.
May this Red Wednesday remind you that you are not just survivors, you are now bearers of living hope. Hinaut pa.



