Saturday in the 31st Week of Ordinary Time, November 8, 2025

Romans 16:3-9, 16, 22-27

Brothers and sisters: Greet Prisca and Aquila, my co-workers in Christ Jesus, who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I am grateful but also all the churches of the Gentiles; greet also the Church at their house. Greet my beloved Epaenetus, who was the firstfruits in Asia for Christ. Greet Mary, who has worked hard for you. Greet Andronicus and Junia, my relatives and my fellow prisoners; they are prominent among the Apostles and they were in Christ before me. Greet Ampliatus, my beloved in the Lord. Greet Urbanus, our co-worker in Christ, and my beloved Stachys. Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the churches of Christ greet you. I, Tertius, the writer of this letter, greet you in the Lord. Gaius, who is host to me and to the whole Church, greets you. Erastus, the city treasurer, and our brother Quartus greet you. Now to him who can strengthen you, according to my Gospel and the proclamation of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery kept secret for long ages but now manifested through the prophetic writings and, according to the command of the eternal God, made known to all nations to bring about the obedience of faith, to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ be glory forever and ever. Amen.

Paul’s final chapter of the Letter to the Romans feels almost like a tapestry of friendship woven from the threads of grace. The names come one after another — Prisca, Aquila, Epaenetus, Mary, Andronicus, Junia, Ampliatus, Urbanus, Stachys — each one carrying its own quiet story of faith, courage, and service. The great Apostle who scaled the heights of theology in earlier chapters now descends into the humble plain of names, greetings, and gratitude. In this descent, he reveals something profound: the Gospel is not an abstract idea but a living communion of persons bound together in Christ.

Prisca and Aquila, who “risked their necks” for Paul, stand as the image of discipleship rooted in love’s daring. Their house church embodies the earliest form of Christian worship: faith taking shelter in the home, where the Eucharist was celebrated around an ordinary table. Here theology becomes domestic; sanctity takes the shape of hospitality.

Mary, who “has worked hard for you,” reminds us that the Church’s strength often lies in quiet service. Her labor—unrecorded, unadorned—is part of that invisible foundation upon which the visible Church rests. Andronicus and Junia, “prominent among the apostles,” challenge every notion that holiness or apostolic zeal can be limited by status or gender. Their imprisonment with Paul links them to the Cross, and their being “in Christ before me,” as Paul admits, places them among his teachers in grace.

Each greeting carries the tenderness of a father sending words to his children scattered across the Empire. But the chapter culminates in something still greater: the doxology — a hymn of praise to “the only wise God.” After so many human names, Paul’s final word is divine. The roll call of saints leads upward to the Source of all communion.

In that doxology, Paul draws together the whole mystery of salvation: the Gospel once hidden, now revealed; the obedience of faith extending to all nations; the eternal plan of God now made visible in Christ. The same voice that said “Greet one another with a holy kiss” now turns toward heaven: “To the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, be glory forever.” It is as though the Church, bound together in love on earth, is lifted into the eternal praise of heaven.

This closing chapter teaches that theology ends not in speculation but in communion; revelation finds its fullness not in words but in faces. Every believer named here — every laborer, prisoner, host, or benefactor—becomes a line in the great hymn of redemption.

And in the end, that hymn belongs not only to the first-century Christians of Rome but to every generation that lives the obedience of faith. Whenever the Church gathers in charity, prays together, and lifts its voice in praise, the ancient list of greetings becomes living again. Prisca and Aquila, Junia and Epaenetus, Paul and Tertius, you and I — all are gathered into the same song:

“To the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, be glory forever and ever. 

Amen.”