Weekly Reflections

CCAS Administrative Assistant 10/27/25 CCAS Administrative Assistant 10/27/25

Feast of All Souls

November 2, 2025

God Cares for Us in Life and in Death

John 6:37-40

Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and I will not reject anyone who comes to me, because I came down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me. And this is the will of the one who sent me, that I should not lose anything of what he gave me, but that I should raise it [on] the last day. For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him [on] the last day.

Wisdom 3:1-4, 7-9 (from the first reading)

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. In the time of their judgment they shall shine and dart about as sparks through stubble; they shall judge nations and rule over peoples, and the LORD shall be their King forever. Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love: Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with the elect.

REFLECTIONS ON THE GOSPEL

Homily: Pope Francis — November 2, 2014 Angelus, St Peter’s Square
All Souls — Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed
Wisdom 3: 1-9; Psalm 23: 1-6; Romans 5: 5-11; John 6: 37-40

Dear Brothers and Sisters, Good morning,
Yesterday we celebrated the Solemnity of All Saints, and today the liturgy invites us to commemorate the faithful departed. These two recurrences are intimately linked to each other, just as joy and tears find a synthesis in Jesus Christ, who is the foundation of our faith and our hope. On the one hand, in fact, the Church, a pilgrim in history, rejoices through the intercession of the Saints and the Blessed who support her in the mission of proclaiming the Gospel; on the other, she, like Jesus, shares the tears of those who suffer separation from loved ones, and like Him and through Him echoes the thanksgiving to the Father who has delivered us from the dominion of sin and death. Yesterday and today, many have been visiting cemeteries, which, as the word itself implies, is the “place of rest”, as we wait for the final awakening. It is lovely to think that it will be Jesus himself to awaken us. Jesus himself revealed that the death of the body is like a sleep from which He awakens us. With this faith we pause — even spiritually — at the graves of our loved ones, of those who loved us and did us good. But today we are called to remember everyone, even those who no one remembers. We remember the victims of war and violence; the many “little ones” of the world, crushed by hunger and poverty; we remember the anonymous who rest in the communal ossuary. We remember our brothers and sisters killed because they were Christian; and those who sacrificed their lives to serve others. We especially entrust to the Lord, those who have left us during the past year. Church Tradition has always urged prayer for the deceased, in particular by offering the Eucharistic Celebration for them: it is the best spiritual help that we can give to their souls, particularly to those who are the most forsaken. The foundation of prayer in suffrage lies in the communion of the Mystical Body. As the Second Vatican Council repeats, “fully conscious of this communion of the whole Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, the pilgrim Church from the very first ages of the Christian religion has cultivated with great piety the memory of the dead” (Lumen Gentium, n. 50). Remembering the dead, caring for their graves and prayers of suffrage, are the testimony of confident hope, rooted in the certainty that death does not have the last word on human existence, for man is destined to a life without limits, which has its roots and its fulfillment in God. Let us raise this prayer to God: “God of infinite mercy, we entrust to your immense goodness all those who have left this world for eternity, where you wait for all humanity, redeemed by the precious blood of Christ your Son, who died as a ransom for our sins. Look not, O Lord, on our poverty, our suffering, our human weakness, when we appear before you to be judged for joy or for condemnation. Look upon us with mercy, born of the tenderness of your heart, and help us to walk in the ways of complete purification. Let none of your children be lost in the eternal fire, where there can be no repentance. We entrust to you, O Lord, the souls of our beloved dead, of those who have died without the comfort of the sacraments, or who have not had an opportunity to repent, even at the end of their lives. May none of them be afraid to meet You, after their earthly pilgrimage, but may they always hope to be welcomed in the embrace of your infinite mercy. May our Sister, corporal death find us always vigilant in prayer and filled with the goodness done in the course of our short or long lives. Lord, may no earthly thing ever separate us from You, but may everyone and everything support us with a burning desire to rest peacefully and eternally in You. Amen” (Fr Antonio Rungi, Passionist, Prayer for the Dead). With this faith in man’s supreme destiny, we now turn to Our Lady, who suffered the tragedy of Christ’s death beneath the Cross and took part in the joy of his Resurrection. May She, the Gate of Heaven, help us to understand more and more the value of prayer in suffrage for the souls of the dead. They are close to us! May She support us on our daily pilgrimage on earth and help us to never lose sight of life’s ultimate goal which is Heaven. And may we go forth with this hope that never disappoints!

A Homily for the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

Back in the 1920s, physicists struggled with a subatomic problem. They could lock in a particle’s position, or they could describe its momentum. Either could be measured with rather impressive accuracy. They just could not do both at the same time.In the physics that Isaac Newton gave us, which still works so well on the level of daily experience, everything can be located in time and space. Indeed, time can be defined as movement through space. But in 1927, a very young German scientist named Werner Heisenberg addressed the subatomic problem with what would become known as his “Uncertainty Principle.” It is not just that physicists cannot identify a subatomic particle’s position and momentum at the same time. Astonishingly, a particle does not have a position or momentum in any meaningful way until the scientist decides to measure one or the other. Put another way, way down there, things disappear and reappear apparently without moving through space or time. If this foray into quantum physics is unsettling for you, calling purgation, or the process of a soul’s spiritual cleansing, a “spiritual uncertainty principle” will be as well. But here is where the two branches of knowledge run parallel. They both demand that we accept the uncertainty of moving beyond time and space when we leave the confines of our everyday world. Here’s how that plays out on the question of purgation after death. St. Thomas Aquinas followed the Greek philosopher Aristotle in speaking of everything within our world as being in process. Everything around us is always becoming something else. So are we. As these two philosophers put it, in every moment of its existence, everything is moving from potentiality into actuality. Everything is becoming something it has not yet become. The one exception to this rule is God, who is defined as pure actuality. Nothing is coming to be in God. Everything already is. What does this have to do with the early Christian conviction that a purgation follows death? (Requests for prayers can be found on tombs in the Roman catacombs.) In our lives, we constantly move from the potential to the actual. Put another way, we asymptotically approach God. Now, in our lives before death, we do this in time and space. We can be observed growing up, growing wise, growing in grace. (Of course, the opposite might also be observed!) At death, most of us will still fall short of who God called us to be, which is someone perfectly ready to receive the fullness, the actuality that is God. This means that somehow, though not in some time or some place, God must move us from what is potential to what is actual. And, just as our prayers aid each other in that process on this side of the grave, they do so as well on the other. This is where, just as on the quantum level of physics, our ability to picture a process gives out. We understand what it means to become who we were meant to be in time and space. We cannot begin to imagine how we do that outside of time and space. Hence purgation as the spiritual uncertainty principle. We know that God in mercy brings us to completion, makes us capable of receiving divine life. What was unrealized potential in our lives becomes, by God’s power and God’s mercy, fully actualized. But whoever decided to speak of “purgatory” rather than “purgation” did the faith no service. “Purgatory” suggests both a time and a space, neither of which is accurate. Not long ago, I was with my former scoutmaster as he died. Harold said something that was both astonishingly accurate and humble. He said: “I’m going to Jesus. I hope that I’ve lived my life in a way that makes him ready to receive me.” There’s the spiritual uncertainty principle of purgation. In his humility, Harold realized that what he had become in life was only a fraction of who God is, who God wants us to become. Harold did not lower God to his level. Yet Harold could confess that he had indeed striven to be ready for God. After death, how God in mercy and with the aid of our prayers moves Harold from the potential to the actual is quite uncertain. But that Harold had really readied himself for this final mercy on the part of God, of that there can be no meaningful doubt.

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

Presence of God: Jesus, As I come to you today, fill my heart, my whole being, with the wonder of your sacred presence. Help me to become more aware of your presence in my life, and more receptive to that presence. I desire to love you as you love me. May nothing ever separate me from you. ( 1-2 minutes of silence)

Freedom: Jesus, Grant me the grace to have freedom of spirit. Keep me from being bound by desires and actions that are not good for me or others. Cleanse my heart and soul that I may live joyously in your love. ( 1-2 minutes of silence)

Consciousness: Where am I with God? With others in my life? What am I grateful for? Is there something I am sorry for, words or actions that have hurt others, and which I now regret? I take a moment to ask forgiveness of God and of those whom I have hurt. God, I give you thanks for your constant love and care for me. Keep me always aware of your presence in my life. (2-3 minutes of silence)

OPENING PRAYER (Resource unknown)

Savior, we believe you weep at every death, and pray at every tomb, for all the dead whose faith is known to you alone. Like Lazarus, call us your friends, stay in our company, share what we have, come to our aid when we call, and grant us eternal life.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY

From First Impressions 2025, a service of the Southern Dominican Province

When my parents died some years ago I was comforted by scriptural verses like those selected for today’s celebration. The Book of Wisdom doesn’t go out of its way to describe where the souls of the dead are right now. But it does offer consoling words we are invited to place our hope in: “The souls of the just are in the hand of God.” Which is similar to what I held on to when my parents died. I’ve told people that I don’t know where they are, or what they are doing right now; I just believe that they have fallen into the hands of a merciful God. Family and friends pictured mom in heaven cooking up her Sunday pasta with her sisters and dad playing pinochle with his brothers-in-law. What wonderful images they are, and I am sure they offered comfort to my family at the gravesides. But all I hung on to were those merciful hands of God who created my parents, sustained them in a simple and trusting faith through hard times and final illnesses and now, is showering mercy and love on them. As Wisdom puts it, “The souls of the just are in the hand of God.” Wisdom has some particular souls in mind; those whose “passing away was thought an affliction” and who were “tried” during their lifetime. People are tempted to give up on God when life offers struggles. Wisdom’s view of our hardships is that they are like offerings placed on the altar to God. By reason of our baptismal priesthood, we are priests who offer our life’s service and struggles to God, we have the hope that the Book of Wisdom gives us, “the faithful shall abide with God in love, because grace and mercy are with God’s holy ones.” There, we hear it again, a variation on what I was hearing at the time of my parents’ deaths, “they have fallen into the hands of a merciful God.” That is all we can know for sure now – and it is enough for people whose hope is in God. That is also the focus of Paul’s words to us today – hope. This hope is based on God’s love for us. Paul tells us that God’s love has shown itself very concretely in Jesus’ acceptance of death on our behalf. We didn’t earn or deserve this love; it was given to us while we were sinners. “But God proves God’s love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” We need not fear death, not as much as some of us do, if we believe that we are falling into the loving hands of God. Jesus is the sure sign of God’s love for us. Sin did not prevent God from showing us love in Jesus and, because of Jesus, sin need not keep us separated from God in this life or the next. God is offering us reconciliation: “we were reconciled to God through the death of [God’s] Son.” In this life and in the next, we are reconciled to God by our faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection. When we waver in that faith, as we might do facing the death of a loved one after a long and painful illness, or when we consider our own death, it is the Holy Spirit who continually pours into our hearts the reassurance that God loves us. Nothing, not even sin and death, can separate us from the love of God. So, it isn’t only in death that we fall into the hands of a loving God – through Jesus we are already in God’s hands and those hands are molding us more and more into trusting children of God. Paul says it succinctly: “Hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” The gospel continues the message: we are secure in the hands of a loving God, both in this life and the next. Some of my childhood images of God keep sneaking up on me when I think of how God deals with sin. Those images presented a very angry God who meted out a stern justice and was ready to strike down sinners — except for the intervention of Jesus, the beloved Son, who got between us and God’s raised fist. Funerals at that time weren’t much help in dispelling those images of God. The vestments were black and the hymns dour, especially the “Dies Irae,” (“Day of Wrath”), a medieval hymn which depicted God’s stern judgment on the dead. (Some classical composers have incorporated that melody in their pieces to convey an atmosphere of dread and foreboding.) It was hard to determine who would have the last word over our souls: the God of our last judgment, or the compassionate judge Jesus. We should have read more scripture in those days — for example, today’s gospel. John shows that God does not have a split personality: the angry and exacting Judge of all humankind and the forgiving and loving Christ. Rather, John tells us that in Jesus, God has drawn close to us. Wisdom’s reassurance that the dead are in the “hand of God” is echoed in today’s gospel. Jesus is the visible manifestation of God’s loving hand which holds the faithful securely in this life and will not let us go in the next. John puts it this way: Jesus has come to give us eternal life – beginning now. Eternal life is now because, in Christ, we are already in an intimate relationship with God and God’s life is in us. This relationship starts now and is not broken by death, for Christ says he will raise us up “on the last day.” Shall we accept the life Christ is offering us now and receive the loving God into our lives? We already have the gift of God’s life in us, but we gather each Sunday to be reminded and strengthened in that life. How does it happen? The sign of the believing community gathered with us today encourages us. Hearing the Word of God makes God’s active and creative power present to us. The Eucharist we receive is the food that sustains our hope. Now and into the next life, God’s hands will never let us go. Jesus assures us today, “I will not reject anyone who comes to me.” He is very clear that it is his intention to enter into a permanent relationship with us, for it is also, “the will of the one who sent me,” not to lose anyone God put into Jesus’ care. On this feast and the days which surround it, the Mexican community celebrates “the Day of the Dead.” Family members visit the graves of their deceased and take the dead person’s favorite foods. At the grave family and friends, adults and children, have a picnic: they tell stories of their dead and share the food they brought. It is an expression of the undying bonds of love that unite them to their family members who have passed to the other side. They also believe that the spirits of their loved ones are alive and, in some way, still with them. We don’t have to be of Mexican descent to celebrate the lives of our deceased family and friends. Aren’t we doing something similar to what our Mexican brothers and sisters do when we gather at Eucharist on this day? We share stories from the scriptures, the family stories we have in common. We then eat the “favorite foods” that nourished our deceased brothers and sisters: the Eucharistic bread and wine that sustained them in their living and dying and that gives us hope that someday we will again eat at a banquet table with one another and the risen Lord. This is a time to go to visit the cemetery and share stories of the dead with our children. We could recall their lives, how they lived their faith and passed that faith on to us. We might open family albums for our little ones and, like a storybook reading in the evening, tell them the stories of their deceased grandparents, uncles, aunts, and our friends. We could include prayers for them as we pray bedtime prayers with the little ones. In our part of the globe, it is Autumn and nature seems to be “passing away” around us. But we have firm hope that, after a season of rest and bareness, the earth will come alive again. We also have a secure hope, based on Jesus’ promise to us, that he has given us eternal life and that, with him and one another, we shall rise “on the last day.”

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion? Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow:

Reflection Questions

Has my faith ever been tested by difficult times in my life? How did I respond? What kept me going?

Why do I think people are often reluctant to talk about death? Do I worry about death, mine or another’s?

What do I think of the way some cultures deal with death? Which, in my mind, are healthy? Which can be unhealthy?

What do I think the afterlife is like?

Do I believe in the supernatural world—angels and saints, for example?

What do I think of purgatory? Someone has describe it as an “incubator” where we are prepared for the joys of heaven; is that comforting or too fanciful?

From Father Daniel Harrington, S.J.: Do I really believe in life after death? What does my faith in the risen Christ have to do with hope for eternal life

Do I have loved ones whom I can no longer see but only feel? How do I stay close to them in my heart?

As I recall my beloved dead, do I believe that God holds them securely in loving hands? What can I do to increase my hope in God’s never-ending love, for me and for them?

What can I do today to comfort someone who has lost a loved one? Is it sometimes enough just to sit in sorrow with that person or hear his sadness or her regrets?

Do I really believe in life after death?

CLOSING PRAYER

Don’t forget to provide some prayer time at the end, including those whom you wish to pray for. Insert their names where prompted: Jesus, help me to remember that in You, everyone, every single person, is loved, called by name, and claimed as a beloved child. You told us so. “I will never drive away anyone who comes to me,” You said. There is nothing in the world to keep us apart from Your love. Jesus, help me to remember that in You, no one is ever lost or left behind. Not my loved ones who have gone before, not imperfect me. You will raise us up on the last day, without regard to who we are, what we are like, or what we have done or left undone. That’s the “raising up love” You promised—Your “raising up love” that filled the souls of ____________________’s life here on earth and continues to fill his/her life evermore.

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

Weekly Memorization: Taken from the first reading for today’s session….The souls of the just are in the hands of God.

MEDITATIONS

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

Today’s reading from Wisdom 3:
The souls of the just are in the hand of God;
And no torment shall touch them.
They seemed in the view of the foolish, to be dead’
And their passing away was thought an affliction
And their going forth from us utter destruction.
But they are at peace.

A reading from John 14: Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be.

Which of these passages gives me more comfort and hope? What is that hope base on? God’s love? My faith? Scripture How is Jesus’ acceptance of His death a sign of hope for us? Do I understand that I did not and cannot earn God’s love? (from St. Paul: “But God proves God’s love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us”). Do I believe that in death my loved ones have fallen into the loving hands of God? How do I nurture that belief in times of sorrow and loneliness?. I pray this week a prayer adapted from St. Paul: “for I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor death will be able to separate me from the love of God in you, Christ Jesus.”

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

All Souls’ Day is as much about our own fears of death as it is about the loss of loved ones. The following passage from Isaiah 43:1-2,4-5a provides a way to deal with present doubts and fears: But now, thus says the LORD, who created you, Jacob, and formed you, Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you ;I have called you by name: you are mine. When you pass through waters, I will be with you; through rivers, you shall not be swept away. When you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, nor will flames consume you. Because you are precious in my eyes and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you and nations in exchange for your life. Fear not, for I am with you; from the east I will bring back your offspring, from the west I will gather you. First, think of the particular cares and worries which have, at times, threatened to drown you, then think of those trials by fire you have undergone. Meditate on this passage, imagining that God is speaking these words to you alone. Can you really believe that God cares this much for you? Rewrite these phrases as a response in hope and trust to God’s love and care. . Are there any dangers lurking in the corners of your life that you fear at this time? Share these with God, knowing He will listen.

A PRAYER (See the closing prayer, above)

When you are feeling lonely, or are missing someone who is no longer here, this is a nice prayer to say:
Lord, like the traveler lifting the fallen one on the Jericho road, healing all his wounds, you went to Lazarus’ tomb, and would not let him die but loosed the bonds of death, so great was your love for him. Savior, we believe you weep at every death, and pray at every tomb, for all the dead whose faith is known to you alone. Like Lazarus, call us your friends, stay in our company, share what we have, come to our aid when we call. and grant us eternal life.

POETIC REFLECTIONS

Birago Diop, A Muslim poet from Senegal, sums up our convictions about those who have gone before us: Do you see evidence of those who have gone before us in any of the paces he mentions?

Those who are dead have never gone away,
They are in the shadows darkening around,
They are in the shadows fading into day,
The dead are not under the ground.
They are in the trees that quiver,
They are in the woods that weep,
They are in the waters of the rivers,
They are in the waters that sleep.
They are in the crowds, they are in the homestead.
The dead are never dead

A message to remember:

Ascension by Colleen Hitchcock

And if I go,
while you’re still here...
Know that I live on,
vibrating to a different measure
—behind a thin veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me,
so you must have faith.
I wait for the time when we can soar together again,
—both aware of each other.
Until then, live your life to its fullest.
And when you need me,
Just whisper my name in your heart,
...I will be there.

CCAS Administrative Assistant 10/21/25 CCAS Administrative Assistant 10/21/25

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 26, 2025

Spiritual Arrogance and True Humility

Luke 18:9-14

The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

REFLECTIONS ON THE GOSPEL

First Impressions by Jude Siciliano, OP

Is Jesus ben Sirach contradicting himself in today’s first reading? The opening line reads, “The Lord is a God of justice, who knows no favorites, though not unduly partial toward the weak, yet God hears the cry of the oppressed.” But the rest of the reading reveals a very partial God who has taken a very definite stand and turned a favoring ear toward “the oppressed...orphan...widow and the lowly.” God does seem to have favorites, and they are not the ones our society calls “favored.” Sirach wrote in Hebrew around 180 BCE and fifty years later his work was translated into Greek for a dispersed Jewish community in a Hellenistic culture. He speaks to basic issues, particularly the inequalities in society. For those who see their comfort and riches as a blessing from God for their good deeds and social status, Sirach espouses another perspective. God has not favored the rich, no matter what visible signs they might point to of God’s seeming approval. If anything, God has chosen to take the side of the poor and to pay special attention to the prayer of the lowly—hence this reading’s connection to today’s gospel. Sirach suggests that if God is to be found standing with the poor and those treated unjustly, then we had better take more than a few steps in that direction ourselves. Justice requires that those who can, should help those who cannot. Diane Bergant [with Richard Fragomeni, Preaching the New Lectionary. Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 2000.] points out the original Greek suggests that God not only hears the cry of the oppressed, God does more – God yields to their requests. “It’s almost as if God is bound to respond positively to them. As a covenant partner God is accountable to them, especially when other covenant partners disregard their responsibilities” (page 397). The surprise in both this first reading and the gospel is that those considered unacceptable in social and religious circles are the very ones whose prayer is heard – their prayer is “proper.” Today’s gospel teaches us a lot about prayer. First, prayer doesn’t have to be long. Both men in the parable prayed very brief prayers. (I had a theology teacher once who said prayer can be very, very short----“Help!”.) But each man’s prayer was very different. In his brief prayer the Pharisee said “I” four times. While he seems to thank God for his goodness, he really is patting himself on the back. In his view he is singular and unique. He thanks God for his not being like “the rest of humanity, greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector.” In his own eyes he is a completed product. There is little room in him to be changed by his prayer. He might have said prayers, but he didn’t pray because he didn’t see any need to change. There was no space for God to enter his life. On the other hand, we don’t hear the word “I” from the tax collector. He refers to himself by using “me”—“O God, be merciful to me a sinner.” “I”—“Me” What’s the difference? One (“I”) is the subject of the sentence, the cause of the action. The other (“ME) is the object, the recipient of another’s action. The tax collector can’t achieve mercy on his own, he reveals his need and desire for God to do something for him. He wants to be changed, and he trusts that God will help him make the necessary change in his life. What must have shocked those who heard this parable is how radical it is. The Pharisee is not a bad person, he is doing everything he should have been doing, he is completely dedicated to living the law’s demands. In fact, he goes beyond what was required in religious law. He is offering a prayer of thanksgiving to God for his personal exemplary behavior. As someone working for the Roman occupation, the tax collector’s life would have been considered an abomination, a betrayal to Israel and her God. But God sets this sinner right, does what the people thought observance of the law would do – God justifies the sinner. What got the tax collector right with God had nothing to do with strict observance of the law or a righteous public life. God accepted this sinner because he confessed his sin and hoped in God’s mercy. When it comes right down to it, we are better off trusting in God’s mercy than in our own efforts and what God might “owe” us in return. Like the two men, we have come into this temple today to pray. Like the tax collector we recognize that we are not complete. We know we need to move over and leave room for God to continue shaping and molding us. What is in our hearts? Where do we need to make necessary changes in our lives? What are our desires and what are our limitations? We admit today that we are “works in progress,” we admit our need for change and so we take prayerful positions before God. Unlike the Pharisee, we don’t have to compare ourselves to others. We just have to be ourselves and be as honest with God as he was. God sees the empty spaces that need filling and the sins that need mercy. Who knows what work God be doing in us at this Eucharist today? Who knows what changes might come about when we put ourselves in God’s hands today? We might find ourselves:

• withholding criticism
• giving one another the benefit of the doubt
• letting judgment pass into God’s hands
• forgetting the past mistakes and offenses of others
• willing to be surprised by another’s growth in goodness

In short, we might find ourselves letting go of our fixed notions and positions and giving another person space and time to grow. If God changes us in prayer today, we just might find ourselves enabling others to change. What good does prayer do? Does it change God, or does it change us? The gospel today says the tax collector went home “Justified” - changed. That means he was in right relationship with God. Something had changed in him through his prayer. If we are not changed by our prayers then perhaps we haven’t acknowledged God as the subject of our prayer and ourselves as the recipients of God’s actions–the way the tax collector did. We may have said our prayers, but there is more to prayer than just words.

Justice Bulletin Board by Barbara Molinari Quinby, MPS, Director Office of Human Life, Dignity, and Justice Ministries at Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral, Raleigh, NC

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted—Psalm 34:19

When he was alive, Pope Francis frequently spoke profoundly to the pain and anguish that is prevalent among so many of God’s children. To a group of poor people receiving assistance from local Catholic charities, he said, “Many of you have been stripped by this savage world, which doesn’t provide work, which doesn’t help, to which it makes no difference that children die of hunger.” The Pope mourned the African immigrants killed in the sinking of a boat near the southern Mediterranean island of Lampedusa, “It doesn’t matter [to the world] that people must flee slavery and hunger in search of liberty.” “With how much pain, so often, we see that they find death,” he said. “This is a day of weeping. The spirit of the world does these things.” In one of his meetings with young patients at a hospital, many of whom were confined to wheelchairs and with the room resounding with their cries and moans, he reflected, “We are among the wounds of Jesus. Jesus is hidden in these kids, in these children, in these people. On the altar we adore the flesh of Jesus, in them we find the wounds of Jesus.” More recently, our new Pope Leo XIV reaffirms that “in our world bearing deep scars of conflict, inequality, environmental degradation, and a growing sense of spiritual disconnection,” it is crucial for Christians to continue working and praying together. (2025 Ecumenical Week) It is human to want to flee pain but as Christians, we must turn toward the pain of this world. Like firefighters that run toward a fire, we must do our part to stop the fire of suffering, for the love of Christ, for the love of our sisters and brothers in Christ. The task is too big, you say. God is not asking you to conquer everything that is broken but to discover your own humanity in the face of so much suffering; to allow God to work through your efforts to make lives more whole. We have many caring ministries here at Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral that assist the brokenhearted and downtrodden. You have only to go to our website at Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral to find a social justice ministry that could use your talents. Then contact me at socialconcern@hnojnc.org. Be close to the brokenhearted and you will find yourself close to God.

Faith Book — Mini-reflections on the Sunday scripture readings designed for persons on the run. “Faith Book” is also brief enough to be posted in the Sunday parish bulletins people take home.

From today’s Gospel reading: The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself, “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.”

Reflection: Some people think our prayer can change God’s mind. Actually, true prayer will change us. But there was no chance that the Pharisee’s prayer would have any transformative effect on him. He seems to think that his extra good life has earned him the reward of salvation. But, in the end, the tax collector is the one who is put right with God because he turned to God for mercy.

So, we ask ourselves:

When we pray, how much of our time is spent in saying “Thank you” to God?
If, in our daily prayer we started by listing the things we were thankful for, what effect do you think that would have on our relationship with God? With others?
When we pray, how much of our time is spent in saying “Thank you” to God?
If, in our daily prayer we started by listing the things we were thankful for, what effect do you think that would have on our relationship with God? With others?

Some thoughts on today’s scripture

This parable, addressed to some proud and arrogant people, was meant to sting.
Can I get in touch with the power of Jesus’ rebuke?
Do I hear the call to a different way of living?
What does it say to me?
The contrast between Pharisee and publican has entered so deeply into our culture that it is sometimes reversed, and people are more anxious to hide at the back of the church than to be in the front pews.
How does the story hit me? I would hate to be the object of people’s contempt. But Lord, if they knew me as you do, they might be right to feel contempt. And I have no right to look down on those whose sins are paraded in the media. Be merciful to me.
What would you like to boast to God about? Let’s be honest. There are times when we want to tell him how good we are, or the good we have done. We may look down on others’ moral or spiritual life. This is just human. But it’s not to be the end of the story of our relationship with God. We look on what is good in ourselves and know that all is gift; both our talents and what we have made of them. We end up with the prayer of the taxman - cover me O Lord with your mercy, for, with all my good deeds and intentions, there is a deeply sinful side of me which needs your mercy.
To know oneself as a humble child of God, dependent on God for everything, is a grace to be asked for in prayer. The tax collector is a more attractive person, despite his job which was looked down on at the time, than the externally holy Pharisee. It is a grace of God to know we need his mercy. Prayer is a time of relaxing into the merciful love of God, whose compassion and understanding of each of us is greater than anything else in him.
The Pharisee and the tax collector spoke about themselves to God. Their attitudes to others were starkly in contrast. As I come to pray I may speak to God humbly about me and about my neighbours that I make sure to take time to listen for the voice of the Lord.
I allow my prayer to be, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” I identify myself without excuses and I address myself to God, confident of being met with love and mercy.
Jesus cautions me against anything that elevates me or sets me apart from others. I ask God to help me to be aware of any attitudes or words that demean other people.
I place myself with the humble tax collector, asking God for mercy as I realise that I am a sinner. I ask God to help me to know my need without becoming disheartened.
The Pharisee did not just think well of himself but did so at the expense of other people, Looking down on them from the height to which she had exalted himself. Are there ways in which I promote myself?

A Big Heart Open to God: An interview with Pope Francis

Editor’s Note: This interview with Pope Francis took place over the course of three meetings during August 2013 in Rome. The interview was conducted in person by Antonio Spadaro, S.J., editor in chief of La Civiltà Cattolica, the Italian Jesuit journal. The interview was conducted in Italian. After the Italian text was officially approved, America commissioned a team of five independent experts to translate it into English. America is solely responsible for the accuracy of this translation. Father Spadaro met the pope at the Vatican in the pope’s apartments in the Casa Santa Marta, where he had chosen to live since his election. Father Spadaro begins his account of the interview with a description of the pope’s living quarters. :”The setting is simple, austere. The workspace occupied by the desk is small. I am impressed not only by the simplicity of the furniture, but also by the objects in the room. There are only a few. These include an icon of St. Francis, a statue of Our Lady of Luján, patron saint of Argentina, a crucifix and a statue of St. Joseph sleeping. The spirituality of Jorge Mario Bergoglio is not made of “harmonized energies,” as he would call them, but of human faces: Christ, St. Francis, St. Joseph and Mary.”

Who Is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?

I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner. I ask Pope Francis point-blank: “Who is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?” He stares at me in silence. I ask him if I may ask him this question. He nods and replies: “I do not know what might be the most fitting description.... I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech, a literary genre. I am a sinner.” The pope continues to reflect and concentrate, as if he did not expect this question, as if he were forced to reflect further. “Yes, perhaps I can say that I am a bit astute, that I can adapt to circumstances, but it is also true that I am a bit naïve. Yes, but the best summary, the one that comes more from the inside and I feel most true is this: I am a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon.” And he repeats: “I am one who is looked upon by the Lord. I always felt my motto, Miserando atque Eligendo [By Having Mercy and by Choosing Him], was very true for me.” The motto is taken from the Homilies of Bede the Venerable, who writes in his comments on the Gospel story of the calling of Matthew: “Jesus saw a publican, and since he looked at him with feelings of love and chose him, he said to him, ‘Follow me.’” The pope adds: “I think the Latin gerund miserando is impossible to translate in both Italian and Spanish. I like to translate it with another gerund that does not exist: misericordiando [“mercy-ing”]. “That finger of Jesus, pointing at Matthew. That’s me. I feel like him. Like Matthew.” Here the pope becomes determined, as if he had finally found the image he was looking for: “It is the gesture of Matthew that strikes me: he holds on to his money as if to say, ‘No, not me! No, this money is mine.’ Here, this is me, a sinner on whom the Lord has turned his gaze. And this is what I said when they asked me if I would accept my election as pontiff.” Then the pope whispers in Latin: “I am a sinner, but I trust in the infinite mercy and patience of our Lord Jesus Christ, and I accept in a spirit of penance.

Prayer: I ask Pope Francis about his preferred way to pray.

“I pray the breviary every morning. I like to pray with the psalms. Then, later, I celebrate Mass. I pray the Rosary. What I really prefer is adoration in the evening, even when I get distracted and think of other things, or even fall asleep praying. In the evening then, between seven and eight o’clock, I stay in front of the Blessed Sacrament for an hour in adoration. But I pray mentally even when I am waiting at the dentist or at other times of the day. “Prayer for me is always a prayer full of memory, of recollection, even the memory of my own history or what the Lord has done in his church or in a particular parish. For me it is the memory of which St. Ignatius speaks in the First Week of the Exercises in the encounter with the merciful Christ crucified. And I ask myself: ‘What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What should I do for Christ?’ It is the memory of which Ignatius speaks in the ‘Contemplation for Experiencing Divine Love,’ when he asks us to recall the gifts we have received. But above all, I also know that the Lord remembers me. I can forget about him, but I know that he never, ever forgets me. Memory has a fundamental role for the heart of a Jesuit: memory of grace, the memory mentioned in Deuteronomy, the memory of God’s works that are the basis of the covenant between God and the people. It is this memory that makes me his son and that makes me a father, too.”

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

OPENING PRAYER

Lord, keep me centered on you and not on my goodness, my accomplishments. Teach me not to judge others in comparison to myself, and teach me to be generous in praise of others. Give me humility and pureness of heart.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY

From First Impressions, a service of the southern Dominican Province

Today Jesus tells a parable about a Pharisee and tax collector who go to the temple to pray. The two couldn’t be more opposite in religious standing. Their prayers are also at opposite ends of the spectrum. At first, the parable seems to be about prayer, but a closer look shows it is about the attitude one brings to prayer. The reading from Sirach stresses what the parable illustrates: the prayer of the humble is heard by God. (“The prayer of the lowly pierces the clouds….”) Again, like Jesus’ parable, it is the attitude we bring that determines the authenticity of our prayer. This message is also reinforced by our Psalm Response to the Sirach reading: “The Lord hears the cry of the poor.” The cry of the needy, disenfranchised and distressed does not go unheard by God. This is the faith the Scriptures stir in us: these days God hears the cries from grieving Ukrainian and Russian families; those same cries from the destitute and abandoned in Gaza; the loved ones of the million who have died from opioid poisoning in our country; the poor on our streets; those nursing critically ill spouses; the families of those in prisons, as well as the prisoners themselves. And, “the poor” who cry out and are heard by God, are also all of us who are in need, have prayed and now find ourselves waiting on God’s response. The Pharisee who goes up to the Temple is certainly an admirable member of the faith. He “took up his position”; was that like a front pew? He has reason to brag. He tithes and fasts. It sounds like he puts generously in the collection basket. Who wouldn’t want him in our parish community and on our parish council? Until he opens his mouth and reveals his shallow soul and diminished faith In contrast, the tax collector’s prayer of penitence is stark. He beats his chest, lowers his eyes and voices a simple prayer asking for mercy and forgiveness. It is almost as if Jesus is inviting us to put ourselves in God’s place asking: “If you were God, whose prayer would you hear and respond to?” Well, Sirach already gave us the answer: “The prayer of the lonely pierces the clouds….” So did the psalmist: “The Lord hears the cry of the poor.” The Pharisee gives thanks to God for not being like everyone else. He is a person of means, he has enough to tithe. He lives a virtuous life; he’s not “greedy, dishonest, adulterous.” He probably feels “blessed” by God for all he has. So, he offers a prayer of thanksgiving. But his self-satisfaction counters whatever sincerity he might have. The tax collector on the other hand, doesn’t claim his due from God. He only hopes for forgiveness. But what has he done to deserve it? Nothing. His humility makes all the difference. He has placed himself in God’s hands and God has favored him. It doesn’t figure. We are so used to earning, or deserving, whatever goods we get. Those who have little, or live in desperate situations seem forgotten, or even punished by God. The Pharisee in us would have us take credit for our goodness and moral superiority. But if we have been set right, “justified,” before God, it is a gift God has given and calls us to live out in our daily lives. We cannot gloat over our uprightness, condemn others, or ignore their need. Jesus says the tax collector went home “justified.” The opening verse uses “righteousness.” Being justified, or righteous, are biblical terms that mean being in right relation with God. Isn’t that what we believers want? St. Paul tells us that being righteous/justified comes from faith in Christ and faith is a gift from God. How can I boast of my goodness and chalk it up to my hard work when faith is a gift and it is out of faith that I do what is right and pleasing to God? The Pharisee’s prayer focuses on himself. Notice how many times he refers to himself, “I thank you… I fast… I tithe… I am not….” But the tax collector stands apart. He knows the religious, upright Pharisee despises him. The focus of his prayer is on God so he offers a simple prayer for mercy. What has he done to deserve mercy? There is no account of his making a sizable donation, or offering a large sacrifice in the Temple. How would he ever make amends for all the people he cheated in his dishonorable work, collecting taxes from his Jewish country people for the Romans? He makes no restitution still, he is “justified.” He recognizes who God is and who he is before God and mercy is given. Whose side do we take in the parable? Did you feel mercy towards the tax collector and despise the Pharisee? But then, haven’t we done just what the Pharisee did, judge another? In doing that, didn’t we place ourselves over him, as he did over the tax collector? We good churchgoing people may be right alongside the Pharisee, even in our extra charitable works and prayer. Do we, like him, feel entitled to God’s favor? After all, we earned it! Instead of feeling privileged we acknowledge our dependence on God. At this Eucharist we give thanks for what we have received and recognize we are sisters and brothers to those around us in the pews and in the world—especially those who, like the tax collector, are downtrodden or despised by the community.

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS

Refection Questions

How many of my prayers start with “I?” What do I tell God about myself? Do my prayers generally focus on God or on myself?

Who are the tax collectors in my life? Who are the Pharisees?

Have I ever done good or religious things publicly, because there is a payback for me?

Where does my self-image come from? How is Jesus a model for me in terms of this?

How do I thank God for the moral gifts I have been given without becoming a cautionary tale of self-praise?

Am I smug about the way I practice my religion and dismissive or critical of those whose ideas or practices are different?

How do I define humility? What is false humility?

Do I ever stop to think that there might be some compelling reason behind someone’s bad behavior?

What would be some ways to stop judging people so harshly?

Do I divide people into groups, either cultural, educational, religious or political? If so, am I willing to acknowledge that I have become like the Pharisee?

What do I expect from God as a result of my good behavior?

Adapted from In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus by John Dominic Crossan, page 69.: The literal point of the parable [the Pharisee and Tax collector] is a startling story of situational reversal in which the virtuous Pharisee’s prayer is rejected by God and the sinful publican’s prayer gains approval. The metaphorical challenge is ...clear: the complete, radical, polar reversal of accepted human judgment, even or especially of religious judgment, whereby the kingdom forces its way into human awareness. What, in other words, if God does not play the game by our rules?

Does it seem that sometimes God plays by different rules than humans do? How do I feel about this?

From Renew Scripture series: “Accurate self-assessment is essential to our development as human beings". In what way do I evaluate my own life? This gospel focusses on honesty and perseverance in prayer. To what kind of action does this inspire you?

CLOSING PRAYER

Adapted from sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits, 2022

Lord, can I ever get rid completely of the Pharisee in me? I find it is so easy to feel superior to others in one way or another while being blind to my own shortcomings. Remind me that humility, however, is not meant to exaggerate my shortcomings and failings, but simply to trust that you understand and will help me to do better. Help me to be honest with myself and kind to myself, grounded in the reality of your love. Remind me that I am not loved by you because I am good, but because you are good. My sinfulness, failures are not reasons for doubting your love, but rather they are an invitation to marvel all the more at your loving kindness.

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

Weekly Memorization: Taken from the gospel for today’s session….Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted.

MEDITATIONS

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

In New Seeds of Contemplation Thomas Merton said: And now I am thinking of the disease which is spiritual pride. I am thinking of the particular unreality that gets into the hearts of saints and eats their sanctity away before it is mature. There is something of this worm in the hearts of all religious men. As soon as they have done something which they know to be good in the eyes of God, they tend to takes its reality to themselves and to make it their own. They tend to destroy their virtues by claiming them for themselves and clothing their own private illusion of themselves with values that belong to God. Who can escape the desire to breathe a different atmosphere from the rest of men? (p. 49) The saints are what they are not because their sanctity makes them admirable to others, but because the gift of sainthood makes it possible for them to admire everybody else (p.57). Think about your particular spiritual gifts, but be very careful not to be smug about them and careful not to compare yourself to someone else, good or bad. What can you do to be honest with yourself about all the ways in which you have been especially arrogant about your own beliefs or actions, and particularly dismissive of the beliefs and actions of others. Then, write your own prayer to God, thanking God for all the ways that you are like others, and thanking God for all those in your life who have been an example and a corrective to your sometimes self-absorbed, tendencies. Recall the times that you have fallen short of the ideal, knowing that God has continued to be forgiving and merciful. Then recall times that you have been harsh or judgmental of others. Pray for self-awareness, honesty, and forgiveness.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

I re-read this parable of the Pharisee and Publican. I place myself in the events of this little story. What does the temple look like? Where is each man standing? What is the posture and manner of the Pharisee? How about that of the Publican (tax collector)? Who do I identify with more-- the man who did what he was supposed to and prayed regularly, gave to the poor, and was an honest, good person, or the tax collector, who preyed on the weak and the helpless, extorting monies from them they could little afford and raking off a profit for himself? When we try to live a good life, is it hard not to be a little smug sometimes? I try to put myself in each man’s shoes. First I look at the part of me that loves and honors God and tries to be a good person. Do I unconsciously measure my goodness against that of others around me? Isn’t that a natural thing to do? Now I look at the part of me, like the tax collector, who has done some things for my own advancement that I’m not too proud of—a sleazy little lie here, a little shameless flattery there, perhaps a little subtle character assassination to top it off. Which side of me do I emphasize when I pray? I speak to Jesus about both sides of my nature and pray for the understanding to know when I’ve been wrong, for humility which does not allow for personal pride in my own goodness, and for the wisdom to know that bothnunderstanding and humility are gifts of God.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Here are some ways in which we can be like the tax collector; can you think of some more?

Withhold criticism of others
Give another the benefit of the doubt
Let God be the judge
Forget past mistakes and offenses of others
Be willing to be surprised and pleased by another’s growth and progress

Which of these is the easiest for me to make a habit? Which of these is the most difficult for me to make a habit? I talk to Jesus about my attempts to respond to this parable and ask for his help to be less smug about my own wonderfulness.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:
(Adapted from Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits)

This story is for all of us. With whom do I identify with in this story? Observance of the law for a Jew is an act of thanksgiving for God’s care and love. How difficult it is for us to accept that we are loved by God without ifs or buts or qualifications! I am loved not because I am good but because God is good. My sinfulness and failures are not reasons for doubting God’s love, but rather inviting me to marvel all the more at his loving kindness. I write my own prayer to God, in total honesty, thanking God for my moral successes and my moral failures, particularly aware of God’s love and mercy.

POETIC REFLECTION

Read the following poems by Ed Ingebritzen, S.J., and Turner Cassidy and think again of the message of the story of the Publican and the Pharisee.

In the Center of Right
The woman taken in adultery
faces the glee of the takers—
they leap upon her
like shoppers upon the prize.
She wears her fright
like the face on Veronica’s veil
as they toss their cage
of rectitude and certainty,
having caught at last
the lioness smelling of blood
trapped in the heat of love.
We are never safe, she and I—
unfaithful as cats in heat
in neighborhoods where dogs strain
with white, law-edged teeth.
From behind her eyes, encircled,
I catch a bit of her fear;
I feel in my bones the violence
come of being wrong, cornered
in the center of right.
—Ed Ingebretzen, S.J., from To Keep From Singing

Carpenters
Forgiven, unforgiven, they who drive the nails
Know what they do: they hammer.
If they doubt, if their vocation fails,
They only swell the number,
Large already, of the mutineers and thieves.
With only chance and duty
There to cloak them, they elect and nail.
The vinegar will pity.
Judas who sops their silver his accuser, errs
To blame the unrewarded.
They guard the branch he hangs from. Guilt occurs
Where it can be afforded.
—Turner Cassidy, from The Uncommon Touch

A great short story for further reading: Flannery O’Connor, “Revelation” from Collected Works

CCAS Administrative Assistant 10/13/25 CCAS Administrative Assistant 10/13/25

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 19, 2025

What is prayer for? What does perseverance in prayer mean to me?

Luke 18; 1-8

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’ “For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”

REFLECTIONS ON LUKE 18 FROM THE IRISH JESUITS

How does Jesus’; parable about how ready God is to answer our prayers move me? Does it confirm my own

experience, or not? Do I sometimes feel like the widow during the long period where she’s not getting an answer?

In this story Jesus piles up the odds against the widow. She is a woman in a male-dominated society, therefore at a disadvantage. More than that, she has no husband to back her. More than that, the judge is unjust and notoriously ruthless. But she gets a hearing by making a nuisance of herself.
Jesus tells us to do the same with God, who wants to be good to us. Pray always and do not lose heart. God’s answer may be as hard to fathom as his answer to Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemini: Let this chalice pass from me – but your will be done.
Can I hold my own experience and listen again to Jesus’ sure statement of God’s eagerness to be good to me? I might need to ask for more light on this.
Is there maybe a twinkle in Jesus’; eye as he compares God to an unjust and lazy judge?
Lord, you puzzle me. I hear you telling me to persist in prayer, to entreat God until he is weary of me. You say he will quickly grant justice. But then I think of good people suffering famine, Aids, loss of children, sickness and death though they pray to God. I think of the Jews in Auschwitz, still singing the psalms as they walked into the gas chambers. Surely there are times when you delay in helping us?
At times like this I turn to the memory of your Passion, and your agonised prayer in the Garden. You have faced a dark and apparently empty heaven, yet stayed faithful. Keep me with you.
The judge was meant to look after the widow and the orphan - this was part of his role in the society of Jesus’; time. It might be said that the woman had a right to pester and bother him. Jesus almost says that we should bother and pester God in prayer. It is never too often to ask God for something. Prayer can be answered through persistence. In all our times of praying for something we can learn something about ourselves and also grow in closeness with and trust in God.
Jesus saw that people in his time needed encouragement in their prayer so he encouraged them. I think of him wanting to encourage me now, realising that he knows how I feel.
I look at my life and situations, wondering how I might help others not to lose heart. My words, deeds and attitudes can do for others what Jesus wanted for the people he met.
I am so impatient sometimes and feel that God has not heard our prayers when they are not answered immediately. We live in a world of instant gratification, instant coffee, instant contact, and a touch of a button, and we can be anywhere in the world! But Jesus in today’s gospel, is asking us to be patient, ‘pray always and do not lose heart.’ Our prayers will be answered, maybe not in the way we are expecting, but answered in the way that is beneficial to us.
Saint Luke shows that Jesus prayed consistently during his public life and his Passion. We are Jesus’ disciples, and he needs us to be people of prayer also. Prayer is like a magnet that keeps us close to God. If we let the magnet go, we drift away from God. Keep us faithful in prayer Lord, for you will never be outdone in generosity.
Today is a lucky day. We hear Jesus teaching the disciples about prayer. We need to pray always and to never lose heart. These two things go together. Perhaps they are even two sides of the same coin. The parable that Jesus chooses to emphasise his teaching is also unusual.
The hero is a heroine. The widow keeps coming back to the judge in her search for justice. She will never give up. She just keeps on asking for what she needs. In the end, the judge responds just to get rid of her. Obviously God does not want to get rid of us, nor does God tire listening to our prayers. This teaching on prayer is full of hope even in situations when God may delay the response to our petition.
Ask and you shall receive’? I reflect on my life and what has been my experience of asking God for what I want and what I need.
For my part, how aware am I of God always being predisposed to loving and caring for me? I pray that this attitude of being loved and cared for is always present in my heart when I ask for what I want or need.
I think about the difficulties I might be facing at this time. Have I lost hope that God will hear me? Can I bring them to God now, knowing that he is attentive to what I have to share? Do I feel I can trust him?
In Jesus’ time, a widow had no support unless she had adult sons to help her. Here the widow goes directly to the judge. The judge, and unpleasant character, ignores her for a long time but she persists in her pursuit for justice and he finally gives in. The parable is an invitation to us to persist in prayer especially in times of difficulties. We however, approach a loving Father, ready to listen to us and we are invited to come with calm assurance. Jesus tells us not to give up or lose heart.
Jesus is not comparing God to an unjust judge. The parable should be read in the context of an earlier comment by Jesus: ‘If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!’ (Lk 11:13). So, if even the most unjust of judges will finally concede to the ceaseless petitions of a defenceless widow, then how much more will God answer our prayers!
The parable offers hope to those among us who are perhaps reluctant to address God with our petitions. It is both an invitation and encouragement to pray without ceasing, confident of God’s desire to respond.
Jesus tells us we ‘need to pray continually and never lose heart’. The simple parable has a clear message: Jesus is not comparing God to an unjust judge, but saying that if perseverance obtains justice from an unjust judge, how much more from a good and loving father?
The need never to lose heart: this is certainly one of the bigger challenges for our faith. Persevering in prayer teaches me that God does not need to be informed of my needs. It is rather I who will notice I am learning to trust God more, as I become more open to whatever he asks of me and my loved ones, for he wants nothing but what is good for me. I thank God for his loving care, and ask for the gift of persevering prayer.
Jesus gently reminds us of the need to pray and not lose heart. He knows we need to hear these words from time to time as we ask ourselves whether prayer does make a difference at all. I ask for the grace to hear Jesus encouraging me in my efforts to pray always, helping me not to lose heart.
The judge finally acts and delivers justice not because he cares about the woman but because he selfishly understands that this is the only way to get rid of her. God is totally different, full of mercy and compassion. I know that prayers are answered, even if not always the way I had imagined. I recall God’s faithfulness in my own life, and thank him for it.
Jesus is confident in God’s vindication of those in need; I join him in praying for the resolution of unjust situations and consider how my efforts might be of help.
The persistence of my prayer speaks of the depth of my need. Even if I find that my prayer always has something for which I always ask, I take time to see how God may already be offering me some answer.
This story reminds us that for many people who have been wronged, great persistence is needed to try and ensure one’s rights.
From this story about the widow, Jesus tells us not be to see God in the same light as that of the judge. Although, God may not answer your prayers exactly and as quickly as you would like, he tells us to persevere in our requests.
Our prayers then become an exercise in pure faith. But our prayer is a conversation with a very close friend who knows best what we need and frequently answers us in a surprising way.
From our continual prayer our special friendship with Jesus develops into the best gift we could ever have - friendship with him.
Do I find it easy to persist in praying for what I need? I might be surprised to discover that prolonged prayer opens my heart even more to God’s provident care in my life, so that I find myself growing in trust.
“Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night;” I join those crying for justice, bringing to my prayer some situation of deep seated conflict or injustice I know well.
In telling this parable Jesus recognises our need for encouragement in prayer, especially in coping with disappointment. The interaction between the judge and the widow is vivid, psychologically believable, and there is an underlying humour. If even a despicable human being like the judge can be badgered into acting justly, how much more readily will the all-loving, ever-generous God respond to our needs when we present them to him?
The concluding verse is indicating that persistence in prayer is impossible without faith.
Lord, you puzzle me. I hear you telling me to persist in prayer, to entreat God until he is weary of me. You say he will quickly grant justice. But then I think of good people suffering famine, Aids, loss of children, sickness and death though they pray to God. I think of the Jews in Auschwitz, still singing the psalms as they walked into the gas chambers. Surely there are times when you delay in helping us? At times like this I turn to the memory of your Passion, and your agonised prayer in the Garden. You have faced a dark and apparently empty heaven, yet stayed faithful. Keep me with you.
Our persistence in prayer does not change God’s mind. Instead it prepares our own heart by strengthening our desire for God!
Jesus wishes us to pray always and not lose heart. Help me to be constant, Lord. Renew my failing confidence when your answer is “Wait....wait...wait a little longer.”
The model for our prayer has to be the widow in Jesus’ parable. Her persistence does not falter. In prayer I can present my true self to God. God knows the real me anyway, and is a God of justice. Do I really believe this? Do I pray and work for justice in the situations around me?
Lord, you are my refuge. Strengthen my persistence when I lose heart. Grant me the wisdom to know that when I come to you in trust and confidence you will respond.
We can be so impatient sometimes and feel that God has not heard our prayers when they are not answered immediately. We live in a world of instant gratification, instant coffee, instant contact, a touch of a button on our computer and we can be anywhere in the world! But Jesus in today’s gospel is asking us to be patient, ‘pray always and do not lose heart’ Our prayers will be answered, maybe not in the way we are expecting, but answered in the way that is beneficial to us.
Jesus, teach us to trust you and not lose heart when we call on you in prayer. The prayer of intercession will never go unanswered, but our ways are not your ways and our thoughts not your thoughts. Keep us faithful in prayer Lord, for you will never be outdone in generosity.
Saint Luke shows that Jesus prayed consistently during his public life and his Passion. I am Jesus’ disciple, and he needs me to be a person of prayer also. Prayer is like a magnet that keeps us close to God. If I let the magnet go, I drift away from God.
I pray: ‘Jesus, when you search my heart, do you find any faith inside it? Stretch my small heart so that I may take the risk of entrusting myself more to you.’
Thank you, Lord, that, unlike that desperate widow, I live in a regime where judges cannot be bought, and where injustices can be aired in the media. In some ways we have made society a better place. But I need your words about perseverance in prayer. There have been times when I belaboured God and nearly lost heart at the silence of heaven. Teach me to recognise you in your silence as well as your words.

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

OPENING PRAYER:

Dear Lord, keep me close to you in prayer. Help me to understand that you want to be with the “real” me—to hear my concerns and worries, my fears and joys. Help me to be generous in my prayers and in my actions toward those often forgotten in our present day: hungry or homeless children, poor elderly or disabled people, those who have run out of hope for one reason or another. Give me the clarity to see what is around me and give me the courage and energy to work for their betterment. Help me to be generous with my time, talent, and my treasure on behalf of those who are voiceless and have nowhere to turn.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY:

From “First Impressions, 2025”

We need to be wary of today’s parable of the widow and the unjust judge, lest we convey a false image of God. (Remember the command, “Thou shall not have strange gods before me.”) Well, if we are not careful, we are liable to imagine a “strange god” and even seem to make what we say sound legitimate or backed up by this parable. The trap lies in our modern tendency to be too literal. By that I mean, we tend to miss the imaginative aspects of these parables and apply a strict formula to them in our interpretation. It goes something like this: the judge is God Keep at it, God will eventually give in -- isn’t that what the parable seems to imply? This, or similar ways of interpreting parables, treats them as allegories -- not parables. Look what such an interpretation does to our faith: it paints God as hard hearted and our constant prayer like water dripping on the stone heart of a reluctant God, hoping to eventually wear God down on our behalf. Remember too that the judge in the parable is unjust -- making it even more dangerous to allegorize this parable, lest God take on the features of this judge in our imaginations. If God gets so misrepresented then we, who are praying earnestly and even desperately for something, are made to feel doubly alone, with no one on our side against the Almighty and seeming-reluctant God. If this is what we infer from this parable, no matter how unintentionally, then we will have created a “strange god” indeed! Certainly not the God of Jesus’ words and actions. This false image will only reinforce an old stereotype of a God so offended by our sin, that God would punish us severely, were it not for Jesus, God’s beloved child who, by his faithfulness and sacrifice, stays God’s angry hand. This makes God sound schizophrenic -- partially with us in Jesus, but ill-disposed as our Creator -- with the Holy Spirit going back and forth between us humans and the two trying to tie up the loose ends. Even if we didn’t have the citation telling us that this is a parable from Luke’s gospel, we could easily guess its authorship. The parable has the signs of a Lucan tale, for again, we hear his often-repeated themes about the poor, women and prayer. Widows were especially vulnerable in biblical times and in the scriptures we often hear the reference to “widows and orphans” -- two particularly defenseless and needy groups. A widow would be dependent on her sons, or a close male relative to take care of her. She was especially vulnerable if the responsible males were indifferent to her welfare, or worse, had defrauded her. In such situations a widow would have recourse to a judge who was supposed to protect the rights of widows and the poor. But the judge to whom our widow turns has no regard for her plight and “neither feared God nor respected any human being.” What chance would she have against a judge like this who disregards the basic commandments about God and neighbor? The cards are stacked against her and things look pretty grim for her ever getting her due. But this is no ordinary widow! She confronts the judge using the only things she has on her side -- her voice and her persistence. What she wants is justice, but from a judge who is not in the least bit interested in giving it to her. The only recourse she would normally have had is not in the least bit interested in her just cause. But by her persistence she wears down the judge who finally gives in to her. Don’t you find it amusing to hear the judge’s fear that a widow is going to come and “strike” him? The original language suggests that he is afraid she will give him a black eye. I hear Jesus’ listeners, so often denied their own rights before the rich and powerful, chuckling as Jesus paints this picture of a “dangerous” widow who will give a good boxing to a corrupt male judge. This is one of those “how-much-more parables.” Jesus paints a picture of a despicable judge who eventually gives in to the persistent demands of the widow. It is as if he is saying, “If this kind of a person eventually responds, how much more will God?” Why? Because God is not turned against us and will “secure the rights” of God’s chosen. Of course, our struggle lies in the fact that so much in our world is unjust, especially for the disenfranchised. We pray for things to be put right and even pray that we can help make them so. Yet often, conditions don’t improve, sometimes they even get worse. Doesn’t that make you want to despair of ever seeing things righted? So, we are tempted to cease our works and quite our prayers. “What’s the use?”, we lament. Even when things improve a bit there still is an enormous mountain of wrongs to address -- in our homes, church, community and world. We feel our efforts are so puny and so we are tempted to withdraw back into our private world saying, “What difference can Imake?” Such feelings tempt us to quit our efforts at prayer and works on behalf of God’s reign. Jesus expresses how serious the issues are, how powerful the forces against us are and seems to worry about the effects on his disciples. He asks, “But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Not an idle, or speculative question, but one that is based on the experiences of the church from its beginnings: disciples have hard work and prayer to do until the Lord returns and the wait, without immediate signs of “success,” can disillusion us and threaten our faith. If we are looking for an image of the divine in this parable and don’t find it in the judge, is there another possibility? Here is another approach by the New Testament scholar Barbara Reid. (Parables for Preachers: The Gospel of Luke, Year C. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000.) She suggests finding the God-like figure in the widow who persistently pursues injustice, denouncing it until justice is achieved. This interpretation is consistent with the New Testament message that power is found in weakness. A conclusion we would draw for ourselves then is that if this is the God in whose image we are made, then we too should tirelessly pursue justice even if it is against more powerful forces than we can muster. I like the first reading’s image for prayer. As powerful and exemplary a model of faith Moses was during hard times, nevertheless, as the battle against Amalek wears on, Moses’ raised hands “grew tired.” We can identify with that fatigue, we who find it hard to keep our hands raised in prayer as life tries to wear us down. Even Moses needed help. So, Aaron and Hur support his hands, “one on one side and one on the other, so his hands remained steady till sunset.” We all need help in our struggles against evil forces and in our desire to stay faithful in hard times. Look around at those who worship with us at this Eucharist. We see the elderly, even infirmed, here -- still praying. We know of those who can’t get out of bed to come to church, but we also know they are praying and staying faithful. They give strength and determination to our faltering prayer, they help keep our hands “raised.” Perhaps someone notices us here at worship. We don’t think of ourselves as great models of faith, but who knows what straggling soul at prayer is helped by seeing us here? We may be helping them keep their faltering and tired hands “raised” in hope and prayer.

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS:

Reflection Questions:

When we pray, are we real and honest with God, or do we put on our party manners and only murmur pleasantries to God? Do we say only “canned” prayers that we have learned as children? When are they helpful? When are they not enough?

Prayer is talking with something or anything with which we seek union, even if we are bitter, insane, or broken. Says Anne Lamottto get it together when we show up in such miserable shape. She goes on to say “My belief is when you are telling the truth, you’re close to God. If you say to God, “I am exhausted and depressed beyond words, and I don’t like you at all right now;”….that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said. Do you agree with her? Is that scary? Blasphemous?

Do we ever think that what we are concerned about or need is too petty for God’s attention? What does that say to us about God’s love--that God only cares about world catastrophes, but doesn't give a fig about our miserable little sorrows, burdens and worries?

Something to be said for keeping prayers simple. What is your idea of simple prayer? Is simply praying “I need help with this, my friend” a good place to start? Can we pray by asking “Is anyone there? Is anyone listening?”

Do I pray for things around me to be changed to fit my plans/hopes, or do I pray to be changed myself--say, in order to cope with what I encounter and make me a better person for it?

“Three things I cannot change: the past, the truth, and someone else." (adapted from Anne Lamott) How many times have I pleaded with God to change or alter one of those realities? How did that work out? When I realized that what I was actually praying for was an impossibility, did I hit the re-set button?

Do I ever pray for God to do something for me? (I do, a little….well, maybe a lot!) Do I ever pray for miracles? How do I feel if they do not happen? How do I feel if they do happen?

What happens when my prayer is not answered, or not answered in the way I want? Do I get angry at God? Do I give up? What do I think Jesus would encourage me to do based on this parable?

Do I ever try to manipulate God? Say, by overstating my case, or by promising to give up something I really like? Why might I think that punishing myself would make God happy and more inclined to listen to me?

What do you find admirable about this powerless widow?

The widow’s plight calls to mind those who are deprived of justice in our own society. What is our obligation in social justice to speak up and advocate for those who have no one to advocate for them?

Do we rely on God alone to render justice, or do we have a role to play in condemning hatred, killing, abuse of the poor and the down trodden, and other evils?

Have I ever read any of the Church’s documents on Social Teaching? Here are some of their blockbuster titles:

Rerum Novarum (On the Condition of Labor) 1891, Pope Leo XIII
Mater et Magistra (Christianity and Social Progress) 1961, Pope John XXIII
Pacem in Terris (Peace on Earth) 1963, Pope John XXIII
Populorum Progressio (On the Development of Peoples) 1967, Pope Paul VI
Laborem Exercens (On Human Work) 1981, Pope John Paul II
Laudato Si’: On Care for our Common Home 2015, Pope Francis

Have I read the latest exhortation from Pope Leo (Dilexi Te)?

How much of my religious attention is spent on personal holiness and being a better person? How much of my religious attention is spent on Social justice issues and making the world a better place? Is one more important than the other?

How much of my prayer life is devoted to concern for others, particularly those who are marginalized, how much is devoted to concern for the earth?

CLOSING PRAYER

O Lord, three terrible truths of existence are: we are so ruined, and so loved, and in charge of so little. Help me to understand that this revelation leads me to honest prayer. Keep me honest. Keep me faithful. Keep me hopeful.”

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

Weekly Memorization: (Taken from the gospel for today’s session): Pay attention to what the dishonest judge says. Will not God secure the rights of his chosen ones who callout to him day and night?

MEDITATIONS

A Meditation in the Franciscan style/Action

(This is taken from “First Impressions,” a service of the Southern Dominican Province for 29 Sunday C 2019):

The widow’s plight calls to mind those who are deprived of justice in our own society. As elections draw near, whose voices are going to be heard by both politicians and voters? Whose interests will be at the top of the list? Will the voices of the poor and powerless be outshouted by individuals and special interest groups who have more financial or voting power? It would be a rare election indeed if this didn’t happen. Most often the poor, minorities, immigrants, homeless, infirmed, aged and very young are not first on the minds of those running for office, or those casting votes. We can hear the widow’s voice in another way, for now she is speaking for those in our society who are not heard despite their just and desperate need. Will her voice be heard today by city planners deciding where to put a new power plant, city dump, petro-chemical plant, refinery? Who will influence municipal and federal governments when decisions are being made about which homes will be destroyed to build a super highway? Picture the widow standing among those disenfranchised at our borders and hear her voice, “Render a just decision for [us] against [our] adversary.” What is the role of prayer, generally, in social justice situations? What is my role, generally, in social justice situations?

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship

Here is a prayer from a spiritual writer:

Hi God,
I am just a mess.
It is all hopeless
What else is new?
Would be sick of me, if I were you,
But miraculously, you are not,
I know I have no control over other people’s lives, and I hate this.
Yet I believe that if I accept this and surrender, you will meet me wherever I am.
Wow, can this be true? If am, how is this afternoon--say, two-ish?
Thank you in advance for your company and blessings.
You have never let me down.
Amen

Get out a journal, and write your very own prayer, seeking God’s help in your life. Be real. Be honest. Be persistent. On small pieces of paper, write down all the things that you are worried about right now. All of them. Then put them in a sealed envelope, or a locked boxy where you can’t get your sticky little fingers on them, and then let God do the work. You just might become unstuck yourself.

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions

Let us take some few minutes and ask ourselves about our own prayer life:

What part of my personal prayer is asking for what I want?
What part of my personal prayer shares with God exactly how I am feeling?
What part of my personal prayer is formal, using words and phrases I have memorized, or pray on Sundays?
What part of my personal prayer is about trust, open to new adventures?
What part of my personal prayer is a plea for mercy, because I have fallen short of my ideals?
What part of my personal prayer is thanking God for all that has happened and is happening to me in my life?
What part of my prayer is about awe at God's generosity to me and to the world?
What part of my prayer is about surrender, saying “Amen.” or “Let it be as you say.”
What part of my personal prayer is on behalf of someone else?

Poetic Reflection

Mary Oliver was a very spiritual person, and I suspect, a prayerful person. For example, her book Thirst, is a small gem of prayerfulness, Here are a couple of her poems on the subject of prayer. Do you have your own favorite?

THIRST
Another morning and I wake with thirst
for the goodness I do not have. I walk
out to the pond and all the way God has
given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,
I was never a quick scholar but sulked
and hunched over my books past the hour
and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,
a little more time. Love for the earth
and love for you are having such a long
conversation in my heart. Who knows what
will finally happen or where I will be sent,
yet already I have given a great many things
away, expecting to be told to pack nothing,
except the prayers which, with this thirst,
I am slowly learning.

PRAYING
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

MAKING THE HOUSE READY FOR THE LORD
Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice –it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances –but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And I still believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.

CC@S 10/6/25 CC@S 10/6/25

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 12, 2025

What is gratitude, and what does it have to do with faith?

Luke 17:11-19

As he continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met [him]. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voice, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”

America Magazine Article on the 10 Lepers

Consider the 10 lepers. All were healed physically, but only one returned to thank Jesus. Have you given thanks for God’s mercy in your life? How have you shown your faithfulness to God? Have you reached out to those people today who might be considered beyond God’s mercy and salvation?

The story of 10 lepers being healed is found only in Luke’s Gospel and represents an event that takes place as Jesus and his apostles are travelling toward Jerusalem. Though short, the account is full of salvific meaning. Numerous scholars have pointed to the geographical difficulty in the description of Jesus “going through the region between Samaria and Galilee,” since no such geographical region exists, but Joseph Fitzmyer, S.J., must be correct when he says the geographical reference, whatever its difficulties on a map, “alerts the reader once again...to the evangelist’s theological concern to move Jesus to the city of destiny, where salvation is to be definitively achieved for human beings” (Luke, Vol. 2). This unique account also alerts us once again that the salvation that Jesus is traveling toward Jerusalem to accomplish is intended for all people. The 10 lepers, after all, comprise a group of people excluded from community life because of their medical condition, and one leper was considered to have been doubly excluded because of his ethnicity. He was a Samaritan. The lepers, “keeping their distance,” call out to Jesus, not specifically to heal them but to “have mercy on us!” Their call for mercy, though, must indicate a desire to be healed of their afflictions. And since the lepers call out to Jesus by name, they seem to have some previous knowledge of him. They also call him “Master” (epistata), a word that occurs only in Luke’s Gospel and, except for this passage, is used only by Jesus’ disciples. This calling after Jesus already indicates a modicum of faith. When Jesus sees them, he sends them to the priests, who will determine according to the law of Moses, specifically Leviticus 14, whether they have been healed of leprosy. The lepers immediately demonstrate their faith by following Jesus’ instruction even though they still have their disease. Only as they are on their way, do we find out that “they were made clean.” Jesus responds to their cries for mercy by drawing from them an act of faith that results in their physical healing. But only the Samaritan turns back to praise God and (literally translated) “fell before his feet” and thanks Jesus. Jesus asks rhetorically, “Were not 10 made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” This questioning is designed not for the missing nine or the Samaritan, but for the consideration of Jesus’ disciples and curious onlookers. What does it mean that only “this foreigner” returned to thank God? Jesus then addresses the healed Samaritan: “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” But was not the Samaritan already well even before he came back praising God and giving thanks to Jesus? Jesus had healed him as well as the nine others who had leprosy. It was only the Samaritan who returned to thank Jesus for his healing. But how is that evidence of faithfulness instead of thankfulness? Faithfulness is demonstrated in two ways. One, the Samaritan recognizes that mercy has come from Jesus, and returning to thank Jesus is a form of faithfulness to the mercy of God that has been made manifest; and two, the Samaritan’s thankfulness for his physical healing shows evidence of deeper, spiritual healing, which is our true salvation. It is here that the odd geographical phrase “between Samaria and Galilee” makes sense. The boundary lines between who might be saved, leper or clean, Samaritan or Jew, have been breached. The Samaritan’s return allows Jesus to demonstrate that no one, not a leper, nor a Samaritan, is beyond God’s mercy. Anyone can experience God’s salvation, shout with joy for it, praise God for it and walk along the same road Jesus is travelling. Between Samaria and Galilee, there is only the kingdom of God, in which salvation is available to all who call out for mercy and respond to God’s call with thankfulness and praise.

This article also appeared in print, under the headline “Along the Road,” in the October 3, 2016, issue.

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

OPENING PRAYER

How often, Lord, have I taken kindness for granted—that of my family and those around me, and especially your many gracious kindnesses to me. I stop now for a moment and recall where you were present to me in the events of this day………I thank you for being with me today, even when I did not acknowledge your presence or even realize you were there. Help me to be more aware of your ongoing love and care.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY

By Father Jude Siciliano, O.P.

Is there a divine ego trip going on in today’s gospel passage? Why is it important that God be “glorified”? Why does Jesus want to be thanked for his cure of the lepers, especially since he just told the 10 to go show themselves to the priests? Aren’t the others just doing what he told them to do--- except for the one Samaritan who “disobeys” and returns? The bible seems to be permeated with scenes or statements that reveal God wants to be thanked and glorified. Why does God want all this attention and acknowledgment in the first place? These are my thoughts upon first reading the cure of the ten lepers. I wonder if similar questions might not arise in the congregation today when this story is proclaimed? Even the most casual bible reader knows that to have leprosy was to be an outcast in Jesus’ day. The leper was expected to stay apart from the community and cry “Unclean, unclean,” to warn others of his/her disease. A priest would have to pronounce the leper clean and the leper would have to make prescribed offerings before being welcomed back into the community’s social and religious life (Lv. 14: 1-32). So, we can understand Jesus’ telling the lepers to show themselves to the priests. He not only wanted to cure them, he wanted them accepted back into their community. (We can see why sin is likened to leprosy, for it offends and cuts us off from the community. Forgiveness has not just personal but social consequences as well. It’s like being cured of leprosy.) In addition, since illnesses were seen as a punishment from God for sin, if they got official religious recognition of their cure, it would be a sign to them, in their way of thinking, of God’s forgiving them and receiving them back. Jesus’ sending the lepers to the priests shows he didn’t want to break with the Jewish priesthood and the religious tradition into which he was born. Had the priests acknowledged the cure, they would also be recognizing Jesus’ healing power as having its source in God. Presuming the nine made it to the priests, why didn’t the acknowledgment and approbation of Jesus follow? Were the priests and the institutional religion holding too closely to the privileges that came with religious power? God’s good will and benevolence are all to often thwarted by human blindness and recalcitrance. As one ordained in a church community, the story is a sobering reminder that I might not be open to God’s actions when they occur outside my institutional confines. Rather, as in the case of the layman Jesus, God may very well be acting to heal and unify a broken people outside the sanctuary, on the “road”, the place where this miracle happened. The lepers are “cleansed,” “as they were going.” So, the cure took place on their trip to the priests. We too are a community walking along together in need of healing. As we walk we talk. What happens as we go along? Plenty of evil and negative experiences, to be sure! But healings as well, for the Spirit works among us in our daily exchanges urging us to compassion, forgiveness, courage, steadfastness and the forming of closer human bonds. We walk along and, like the lepers, God is working to cleanse us. But note the response of the Samaritan leper: “realizing he had been healed.” The Samaritan wakes to a new realization. A healing has happened to him and he knows the source. Through Jesus, God has acted to restore his life, indeed, to give him a new life with Jesus as his center. He “realizes” what has happened to him and he returns to the source to give thanks. God doesn’t need the glory; Jesus doesn’t need the thanks. But in glorifying and giving thanks we are rooting ourselves in the ever deepening awareness of our relationship with the gracious God who constantly acts on our behalf to bring us to wholeness. That is why we gather today at Eucharist, we are calling to mind who our God is and what God has done for us, we the beloved community. As we say in the Preface today, “It is right O God, to give you thanks and praise.” This band of lepers, who experienced suffering and expulsion were united in their misery. And they were cleansed. But note, one realizes he has been “healed.” That’s more profound than just a physical cleansing—a healing. The man’s next actions show the result of the realization of what really happened to him. He returns to glorify God and give thanks to Jesus. The leper sees that God has acted on his behalf. He also realizes that Jesus was the instrument of God’s healing. It’s as if he woke up from a terrible dream and from this moment his life is completely different; not just because of his cure, but now he sees his life anew in terms of Jesus. Jesus names what has been given the man: he can “stand up and go, your faith has saved you.” Do we realize the healing we have received on our journey, how God has acted through others to restore us or do we chalk them up to our own efforts, plans and achievements? The other nine lepers probably went about their lives. Certainly there would be much now for them to do: return to their families, kiss their children, or marry and start a family, find gainful employment, perhaps even return to the religious practice from which their leprosy had excluded them. But they would have missed the gift of deeper life that the Samaritan leper came to realize: God had loved him and Jesus was the concrete sign of that love and acceptance. If at any time in the future he might sin and feel like the leper he used to be, he could always call on the name of Jesus and be healed again. Whenever his future thoughts would turn to God, Jesus would be part of the picture. Now he knew he would never have to feel cut off from God, now he knew how close he was to God for he would remember returning and getting close to Jesus, close enough to hear, “your faith has saved you”. He would know what a gift he had received, his faith would remind him of that gift. That’s why God calls us to glorify God and give thanks to Jesus. God wants to be in relationship with us and when we acknowledge the good gifts God has given us, we remember who we are, beloved of God. Or as Father John Kavanaugh,S.J. says: We will not take full possession of our lives until we learn to give thanks for them. We don’t really own our legs or eyes, our hands and skin unless we’re daily grateful; we don’t really live with our loved ones unless we foster an appreciative, almost contemplative sensitivity to their presence. It is only the loss of them—or the threat of it—that shakes us into an awareness of their manifold grace....Gratitude not only empowers the receiver of the gift; it confirms the giver. “You really believe I love you, the giver says in the heart. It is glorious when someone thanks you. Might God be more interested in our gratitude than anything else? Was the primal sin ingratitude? Does it sound like Jesus is commissioning the cured leper? “Stand up and go.” Aren’t those the sounds of discipleship? He has been made confident of God’s love for him, confident enough to get up and go to live that love in the world. Jesus also says these words to us today. We are forgiven our sins at the Eucharist. Gift is given and gratefully received. Now he sends us back to where we live. “Stand up and go.” We, like the leper, “realize” what has been done for us and we go.

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow:

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

All the lepers recognized their need and asked for help. Do I recognize my needs honestly? Am I willing to ask for someone else’s help? If not, what keeps me from doing so?

Have I ever asked for help and been refused? Did this make me unwilling to risk exposing my vulnerability exposing myself to the disappointment of another refusal?

When I am thanked for something I have done for someone else how does it make me feel? Does it validate somehow the efforts I have made? Does it make me more likely to help out another in the future? What about God’s feelings?

Do I say please and thank you in my everyday exchanges with family and with those I meet each day? Do I do so because I was taught that this was good manners? Do I do so because I am aware that gratitude is a proper emotion for a good and fruitful life?

Have I sometimes been distracted or just missed the point of another’s kindness or service to me? Have I often taken for granted those who have helped me in some way?

Does entitlement (They are only doing their job; they are supposed to help me) somehow impede the feeling of gratitude?

Does my sense of entitlement make me irritable when others have asked me to help them in some way?

Do I expect a reward from others for doing what I should be doing?Do I expect a reward from God for doing what I should be doing?

When I pray, is my first focus on all the help I need or others need? When I pray, how often do I say thank you? Do I really mean it, or am I putting on my good manners to win God’s approval?

How often do I focus on some everyday things I am grateful for? How often do I focus on everyday issues that do not go my way?

How long does gratitude last?

What is the opposite of gratitude? How hard is it to be complaining and grateful in the same moment? What are some ways to cultivate a habit of honest, not forced, gratitude?

What, for you is the difference between curing and healing? Can someone be cured of an illness, and yet not be healed? Can someone be healed and not be cured?

What do you think, was the faith of the 10th leper? What do you think he might have done with his life after Jesus said “ Stand up and go?”

Have I ever allowed my gratitude for what I have been given to lead me to a new relationship with God?

Jesus is a healer in this story in several ways: He healed people physically, but he also healed relationships and restored these people back to their community. Do I see my religion as one of healing or as one of separating out those who do not belong for one reason or another?

CLOSING PRAYER

Don’t forget to provide some prayer time at the beginning and at the end of the session (or both), allowing time to offer prayers for anyone you wish to pray for.

I thank you Lord, for my life. I thank you for all the ways in which you have blessed me. I thank you for all those in my life who have been there for me, supporting me, loving me, even when I was unaware of it. Keep them safe. Lord, I thank you for the glorious world you have created—oceans and mountains, rivers and hills, all the gentle creatures of the forest and the fierce wild beasts who roam the savannas. Help me to show my gratitude for your gift of Mother Earth and all who dwell in it. Keep me ever mindful of the gift of your love and grace, now and forever.

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

Weekly Memorization: Taken from the gospel for today’s session….Stand up and go, your faith has saved you.

MEDITATIONS

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/ Imagination: I imagine that I am one of the lepers who did not return to thank the person who helped me be cured. Why did I not turn back to thank him? Was it because I was following his instructions to the letter, and being a superstitious and fearful person, did not want to do anything to jeopardize my recovery? Was it because I simply forgot to do so in the joy and excitement of being cured? Was it because I sort of thought that he was just doing his preacher job—performing for the crowds who followed him? Was it because I was still angry that I had suffered from this illness in the first place, and felt I owed no one anything? In the days that followed, after I was reunited with my family and had some time to process the momentous events of that day, did I wonder what ever happened to that man? Did my illness and subsequent recovery make me more understanding of those who have fallen on hard times and more eager to help them? How is gratitude not always in the forefront of people’s minds, especially mine? Has resentment and disappointment blocked it out? Has anger and grief blocked it out? What small habits of gratitude can I cultivate in order to make myself a happier person and in order to thank my God for all he has done for me?

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Raising Questions: Stand Up and Go, Your Faith Has Been Your Salvation

Adapted from “first Impressions 2007”, a service of the southern Dominican Province

At different stages of our lives we become aware that we need healing and wholeness. Until our life’s journey is over, there will always be more work God needs to do in us. And through Jesus, God does want the healing to take place. Like the leper, on the way, we are being cured when:

• A person who loves us tells us a hard truth we need to hear about ourselves.
• We experience, in a long relationship, opportunities for growth in generosity, forgiveness, patience and humor.
• Parenting teaches us to give our lives for another in frequent doses of our time, energies, hopes and tears.
• We suffer a broken relationship, go for counsel and the guidance we receive gives us hope for our future.
• We seek help for an addiction and the group members offer us wisdom, support and helping hands when we fall and support us “one day at a time.”
• We suffer the death of a loved one and family and friends are there to grieve with us and eventually there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Where does healing, strength, courage and hope in such times come? Is it in grand gestures, miracles or simple ordinary events and realizations? Does this give me reason to celebrate? Do I remember the leper who, as he traveled, was cured and realized it was

Jesus who cured him? Do I realize that Jesus is the source of the good that happens to me on the road? In case I miss the point,

Jesus underlines it for me when he says to the leper, “Your faith has been your salvation.”

Consider:

Faith helps me see the presence of Jesus with me in all the stages of my journey.

Faith helps me see Jesus behind all the healing moments of my life.

Faith keeps me from feeling alone in moments of dire need.

Faith reassures me that I have Someone with me to help me deal with issues that can overwhelm me.

Faith saves me from discouragement because of my shortcomings and tells me that God is not done with me yet, so I can travel on in hope until the time when I Too “realize” I have been cured.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Memory:

Read Psalm 30

I will extol you, LORD, for you have raised me up, and have not let my enemies rejoice over me.
O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me.
O LORD, you have lifted up my soul from the grave, restored me to life from those who sink into the pit.
Sing psalms to the LORD, you faithful ones; give thanks to his holy name.
His anger lasts a moment; his favor all through life. At night come tears, but dawn brings joy.
I said to myself in my good fortune: “I shall never be shaken.”
O LORD, your favor had set me like a mountain stronghold. Then you hid your face, and I was put to confusion.
To you, O LORD, I cried, to my God I appealed for mercy:
“What profit is my lifeblood, my going to the grave? Can dust give you thanks, or proclaim your faithfulness?”
Hear, O LORD, and have mercy on me; be my helper, O LORD.
You have changed my mourning into dancing, removed my sackcloth and girded me with joy.
So my soul sings psalms to you, and will not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will thank you forever.

Recall a painful experience in your life. Let the memories of the event wash over you. How did you deal with the pain? Did you turn to others? Did you pursue mindless pleasure or busy yourself with tasks and obligations in an attempt to ignore how you were feeling?

Did you try to buy your way out of unhappiness with what we call “retail therapy”? did you turn to God? What eventually caused the pain to recede and a sort of contentment take its place? When you returned to a place of peace and calmness, did you reflect on what learned from that experience? When you returned to a place of peace and calmness, did you thank God? Did you understand that God was there in all of your pain and recovery? Share with the Lord now your feelings about that event and write your own prayer of thanksgiving.

Poetic Reflection:

This poem, by Mary Oliver, written just after the death of her partner of many years, captures how one sometimes struggles to recover a sense of gratitude in the midst of grief:

THIRST

Another morning and I wake with thirst
for the goodness I do not have. I walk
out to the pond and all the way God has
given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,
I was never a quick scholar but sulked
and hunched over my books past the hour
and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,
a little more time. Love for the earth
and love for you are having such a long
conversation in my heart. Who knows what
will finally happen or where I will be sent,
yet already I have given a great many things
away, expecting to be told to pack nothing,
except the prayers which, with this thirst,
I am slowly learning.

From Thirst

CC@S 10/6/25 CC@S 10/6/25

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 5, 2025

How strong is our faith; what is our role as servants of God?

Luke 17:5-10

And the apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” The Lord replied, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to [this] mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. “Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your place at table’? Would he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished’? Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

by Jude Siciliano, O.P., October 6, 2013

The prophet Habakkuk lived during the time the Babylonian Empire was the dominant world power and was breathing down the neck of Judah. The tyrant Jehoiakim was king of Judah. He persecuted the prophets, enslaved the people and allowed idolatry in the land. Could things be any more discouraging for people trying to trust and be faithful to God?  Habakkuk is a unique prophet. He doesn’t address the people but, in this short work of three chapters, he speaks a lament to God. The opening lines sum it up, How long, O Lord? The prophet sees violence, religious strife and chaos in the land. Aren’t they supposed to be Gods people? Where is God in such dire circumstances? Whats taking God so long to come to help? Certainly God doesnt want such suffering and destruction. How long, O Lord?   Habakkuk wrote 600 years before Christ. But is his prayer not our prayer as well? Our Pope called for fasting and prayer for Syria, so tired and distressed are we as we watch TV images of still more refugees streaming into Lebanon, Jordan, Iraq and Egypt. Two million displaced people! How long, O Lord? We pray for peace, yet there is war.   And what about our nation? We celebrated the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, yet there is still racism in our land. How long, O Lord? We pray for a teenager in our family who is schizophrenic and refuses to take his medications. The family is exhausted and frightened for him. How long, O Lord? We pray for a job and when we go for interviews we are told we’re too old. But we need work. How long, O Lord? With Habakkuk, we cry out Violence! Why does God not intervene? We pray and pray and, even though we already know it, we learn again: prayer, even by good people, doesnt guarantee quick results or a specific answer.   Things will only get worse for Judah. Having rejected God and God’s ways they will have to deal with the violence that the invading Babylonians will bring upon them. Since Judah will not serve God, it will have to bow down before Babylon’s god.   With all of these reasons to lose faith and to look elsewhere for help, Habakkuk continues to call out to God. Persistent prayer and trust is not only Habakkuk’s way with God, but he is also an example to those who accept his message. In fact, he is told to write it large enough so that it can be read even by those rushing by.   God tells Habakkuk the people ought to wait and, despite their misery, to trust that God will bring to completion what God has planned. There will be a time when people will live according to God’s order. Meanwhile, they will have to wait and hope that day will surely come, and it will not be late. That time of fulfillment will come with the message which Jesus will announce upon his arrival.   Habakkuk’s prayer is bold and forthright. He cries out asking what it would take for God to do something. Some people think our prayers are supposed to be proper and appropriately worded. But the Psalms and the prophets are not afraid to raise a voice of complaint to God and they give us the courage to do the same. Faith is the foundation of our covenanted relationship with God. It enables us to be steadfast in troubled times and nourishes the hope that helps us wait with anticipation for God to act.   Paul gives us further insight. In our troubles we have the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells within us. He encourages us to stir into flame the gift of God we have received. The sufferings of the early Christians would cause them to cry out, like Habakkuk, How long, O Lord? What Jesus foretold, came to pass. Those who followed him would have to take up and bear the cross that comes as a consequence of discipleship. What would strengthen the church, Paul recommends, is to hear the sound message. Holding to the gospel, despite the consequent sufferings, would require strength from the Spirit which we, as a community, pray for at this Mass.   The gospel picks up on the long-suffering prayer of Habakkuk. It sounds like the apostles are feeling the strain of their vocation. Instead of asking, How long, O Lord, they asked Jesus for what we also need when we are at our limits, Increase our faith.   The small community of believers gathered around Jesus. They must be experiencing trials and uncertainties for their prayer is brief and to the point, Increase our faith. But they are asking for the wrong thing. They already have the faith — and it is enough. They don’t need the latest upgrade, or a bigger product. A mustard seed of faith is enough: it’s the quality, not the quantity that makes the difference. Hence, the absurd example: a speck of faith is enough to rip up the mulberry tree, notorious for its deep roots. (Mulberry trees were not planted near cisterns because their strong roots would break down the cistern’s walls.)   The parable Jesus gives next seems to be a warning to the disciples not to presume God owes us a reward for what we do. We work hard in our efforts to live good lives and do good for others. We can’t claim a reward for that; it’s what the faith we have been given calls and enables us to do. We do what is expected of us as disciples and we leave the results in God’s hands. God, working through us, will accomplish God’s purposes. We are not owed anything by God.   When we disciples do what we are supposed to do the credit is not ours, because our efforts come as a result of the gift we have received. No matter how great our deeds, or how seeming-ordinary they are, all comes by way of gift. We have been given enough faith to overcome insurmountable obstacles, or to meet the daily challenges of faithful discipleship, over and over again, until the Master returns.

PREPARATION FOR THE SESSION

Adapted from Sacred Space: The Prayer Book 2025

OPENING PRAYER

Dear Lord, it is sometime hard to know if the faith we have will sustain us in times of difficulty and stress. Give us the wisdom to see that you are always with us, and we are to trust in you and your care for us. You will never leave us orphans. Then we ask that you give us the faith in our own abilities to respond to your call to be your servants in the world . Let your love and your grace be our reward.

COMPANIONS FOR THE JOURNEY

From First Impressions 2010, a service of the Western Dominican Province

Today’s gospel opens with a request the apostles put to Jesus, “Increase our faith.” Why do the apostles feel inadequate at this moment on the journey with Jesus? They sound frail. If we had an opportunity to read the preceding verses we might understand the reason for their petition. Jesus has just instructed his followers on the serious nature and consequences of causing another to sin (“...better that a millstone be put around your neck and you be cast into the sea”). Then he teaches them about the forgiveness they must have--even towards those who wrong them. No wonder they’re moved to petition, “Increase our faith.” Having heard what Jesus has just said, we might add, “By the way Jesus, increase our faith too!” Who wouldn’t feel inadequate in faith realizing the kind of people Jesus wants us to be? If, in our vengeance-tending world, we showed a willingness to forgive even offenders, then we will be the highly-visible disciples Jesus has described in other places, “light of the world--a city built on a mountaintop.” In today’s passage Jesus illustrates what faith can accomplish: mustard-size faith can uproot the deep-rooted mulberry tree and cast it into the sea. At this point on the journey the disciples aren’t asking him to make a list of doctrines they must accept and live by. Jesus has been leading his disciples to Jerusalem, predicting along the way, that he will suffer and die. Despite that, he’s asking them to trust him and reflect that trust in specific ways. He isn’t just speaking to their heads, but is asking for total surrender to God through him. It isn’t quantity of faith that matters, he tells them. How could we measure faith in that way anyhow? He wants us to stand firmly with him and to journey through our lives assured that, in his Spirit, he journeys with us. Faith makes it possible for us to do extraordinary deeds. But Jesus doesn’t expect us to use it to uproot forests of mulberry trees. Instead, for the most part, discipleship asks much more ordinary things of us. We are like the servant in the parable, we are expected to be faithful to the tasks assigned to us. The servant is quite versatile and is both a farm worker and the cook! That’s what serving Jesus feels like doesn’t it — multi-tasking. You get the impression from the parable that there is no “off time” for disciples when we are no longer following the Lord’s ways and serving in his name. For example, we practice our discipleship both: in the factory and at home; teaching school and volunteering at a soup kitchen; in business meetings and as eucharistic ministers; as nurses and language tutors, etc. We can’t box up our Christian lives into neat categories: over here I am a practicing Christian, while over there I can relax and just fit in with the crowd. Jesus also tells us that, even as full-time disciples, we are still only doing what we’re supposed to be doing. So, there is no room to boast of our achievements or compare ourselves to others. Those of us listening to Jesus today can’t excuse ourselves from anything less than total discipleship. Nor can we point to the more prominent Christians in the community and the Church and say, “Jesus has given them more faith than me and so they are the ones this gospel addresses.” Whatever the faith we have, he tells us, “Get busy and do what you know you should do and trust that I will be with you in all the various ways you are called upon to serve. A while back I was at a wedding. Another priest was the presider. At the end of the service he gave a “charge” to the couple, challenging them “not to forget this exciting day.” He told them to remember God’s promise to be present with help to them throughout their married lives. He also “charged” them to remember those of us present at the ceremony and the promise we were also making to be a support for them in the years to come. The priest, in effect, charged the couple to remember the sacrament we just celebrated and that they would live for the rest of their married lives. As life tested their relationship, they were to, in Paul’s terms, “stir into flame the gift of God…. “While Paul was speaking to Timothy, his younger disciple, his words aptly applied to that young couple on their wedding day — and to us, the faithful gathered at Eucharist today. We are charged to remember the promise God first made to us at our baptism: in Christ God would be with us throughout our life’s journey. Those present that day, representing the Christian community, also made a promise to support us by their example, prayers and the witness of their lives. Paul wrote from prison and so he knew, from hard personal experience, that Timothy’s life as a preacher of the gospel would have it severe tests. Whatever our life’s vocation, each of us has been given special charisms, gifts of service, that we are called to exercise, not only in the church, but in the world. Like a burning fire those gifts can diminish if not nurtured. So, Paul wants us to tend the flame that burns in us; stir up the ashes, add fuel and fan the flames. If Paul is any example, living and sharing the Word of God through our words and example will invite suffering -- hostile rejection, ridicule, doing without for the sake of others, etc. Each of us then needs a strong burning flame of faith. How do we respond to Paul’s “charge” and “stir into flame” the dynamic faith given us at our baptism? We can’t do this on our own. Paul suggests some things we can do for the “stirring up” of our faith. First and foremost, we have the abiding Spirit with us and Paul reminds us of the help that indwelling Spirit has for us — not only as the source of our faith, but as the ongoing energy that enables us to act on that faith, especially when it is challenged and opposed. Because of the Holy Spirit we don’t, Paul tells us, have to be cowards, overcome by the challenges life throws at us. Instead we can with “mustard-seed faith” (cf. today’s gospel) act with “power and love and self-control.” These are the gifts of the Spirit that are strengthened in us today at this Eucharist. How do we “stir up our faith” at this liturgical celebration? Jesus has described the Spirit as a wind that blows where it wills. So, we invite the Spirit to blow on the embers of our baptismal vocation and to stir into flame what we have been ignoring. Or, to start a new flame for the challenges we face at this moment of our lives.

LIVING THE GOOD NEWS

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions which follow:

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

Is faith for you a collection of theological principles with which we must agree? Are some articles of faith more important than others, or are all equally important?

Why is important for any church to have a set of truths about God for which it stands?

What are the most important Catholic articles of Faith, in your mind?

When is it hard to have faith?

Credo, the Latin word for faith, can also be translated trust or belief. What or whom do you trust in? What or whom do you believe in?

In what ways do both faith and experience shape us? Can faith be quantified? Is it the quality of our faith that matters? What does that all mean to you?

How hard is it to judge the faith of another? Should we being doing so? Do we often do so, in subtle ways?

From “First Impressions” 2022:

Have we ever used the excuse that our faith is weak and done nothing when we should have done something? Have we encouraged others in their faith? How?

Are there certain people in a “servant” position whom I treat with distain, as if I were their master? Do I treat those in the service industry as if they were invisible? Are “please” and “thank you” in my ordinary vocabulary for those who are in a service job? Are “please” and “thank you” in my ordinary vocabulary for those in my household?

When I do a favor for someone, what are my expectations of that person? Do I expect gratitude, or a return favor? What, for me, is the link between faith in God and service to God?

Do I see myself as servant of Jesus; and do I expect some reward from Him for my service? What would that reward be: (good health, happiness, peace, heaven, etc.) What if I am disappointed in my reward for service to God?

In what specific incidents in scripture did Jesus act as the servant of others? Is this an example for me?

CLOSING PRAYER

Don’t forget to provide some prayer time at the beginning and at the end of the session (or both), allowing time to offer prayers for anyone you wish to pray for. Dear Lord, you didn’t spend your time boasting about all you did and all you suffered. You were like a slave, serving us all, washing our feet, dying for us. Make me a bit more like you in your humility and self-forgetfulness. While I want to be generous, there are some times when I expect to be served rather than to serve. Give me and humility to look honestly at what I do and why I do it, and the interior freedom to respond to your call to serve others.

FOR THE WEEK AHEAD

WEEKLY MEMORIZATION

Taken from the gospel for today’s session….The apostles said to the Lord: “Increase our faith.”

MEDITATIONS

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

Read the following passage from Luke: When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him and the criminals there, one on his right, the other on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” They divided his garments by casting lots. The people stood by and watched; the rulers, meanwhile, sneered at him and said, “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Messiah of God.” Even the soldiers jeered at him. As they approached to offer him wine they called out, “If you are King of the Jews, save yourself.” Above him there was an inscription that read, “This is the King of the Jews.” Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.” The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, “Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation? And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” It was now about noon and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon because of an eclipse of the sun. Then the veil of the temple was torn down the middle. Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit”; and when he had said this he breathed his last. Now imagine that you are Jesus, and this is what your mission appears to have come to: an ignominious death on the cross. Do you wonder if you failed, somehow? Do you wonder if you could have spent the last three years with a wife and family in your little carpentry business? How does it feel to have the crowds who followed you so happily now staring at you in stony silence—perhaps afraid of those soldiers? What kind of temptation exists to try to save ourself by renouncing all you did and all you taught? What kind of temptation exists to demand that your Father save you? After all, you were on His mission, doing what He had sent you to do. Did you expect silence from Him? Where did your final words in the Gospel of Luke come from? The point is this: for all that he was the Son of God, for all that he has a special relationship with his Father, this man too died not with the experience of resurrection, not with unassailable proof that he would rise from the dead; he died with faith in his Father, with hope of life forever. That is why his last words on the cross are so striking, so faith-full: “ Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit.” In Luke’s gospel, he died trusting—trusting in a Father ever faithful. (Fr Walter Burghardt, S.J., in Speak the Word With Boldness). In what ways do I have trust in God? In what ways do I lack trust? Do I think God understands? What are my expectations for being a “faithful servant”? Do I expect more favors and special treatment from God than Jesus received?

A Meditation in the Franciscan style/Action. From First Impressions 2025, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Okay, so you have finally arrived, crossed to the proverbial pearly gates. You find yourself face-to-face with God, the God of infinite, selfless love. “Hmm,” your half of the dialogue concludes, “Well, I did what I was obliged to do.” Kind of falls flat in the face of so much love, doesn’t it? If good work is expected of the servant in today’s gospel, why should a disciple of Jesus think faithful loving service is not the way to follow the master teacher? Continuing even further, if we are truly made in the image of God, shouldn’t we be love to the world? Our Church has given us some guidelines; now we must exercise our hearts, stretch our souls. Here is a little checklist for “Works of Mercy 101.”:

Spiritual Works of Mercy

• Comfort the sorrowing –Be someone to lean on in times of hurt and sadness.
• Counsel the doubtful—Be a good listener and let others know how good they are.
• Instruct the ignorant—Share your advice and experience, gently and lovingly when asked.
• Warn the sinner—Let others know there are better choices.
• Forgive all injuries—Don’t carry a grudge and go easy on yourself.
• Bear wrongs patiently—Give others and yourself the room to make mistakes.
• Pray for the living and the dead—include the whole human family in your prayers.

Corporal Works of Mercy

• Feed the hungry—Share what you have with those who need it, down the street or around the world.
• Give drink to the thirsty—Share your joy and hope with those whose lives are dry and lonely and with those who are literally dying of thirst.
• Clothe the naked—Stand up for those who are most weak and vulnerable; advocate for those whose voices are not heard.
• Shelter the homeless—Welcome everyone in your heart and help give people simple, decent places to lay their heads.
• Visit the imprisoned—Help prisoners and those who are confined due to fear, illness, or sadness.
• Visit the sick—Be there for people who need you.
• Bury the dead—Love and respect the person who has died. These works are just the tip for a life of discipleship, but they are a good place to start (and add caring for our common home for good measure).

Barbara Molinari Quinby, MPS, Director Office of Human Life, Dignity, and Justice Ministries Holy Name of Jesus Cathedral, Raleigh, NC

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

This week, pray the Lord’s Prayer each day, not as a series of petitions, but as an act of faith:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. YOU give us this day our daily bread; and YOU forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and YOU lead us not into temptation, FOR YOU deliver us from evil. Amen.

Poetic Reflection:

In this sonnet attributed to St Francis Xavier we see what moved him to become a servant of the Lord:

It is not your promised heaven
That moves me, Lord, to love you.
It is not the fear of hell
That moves me to fear you.
What moves me Lord, is you, Lord,
Fixed to a cross and mocked.
What moves me is your wounded body,
The insults and your death.
What moves me really is your love, so that
Were there no heaven, I would love you still.
For me to love you, you need nothing give,
For even if I did not hope as I indeed hope,
Even so I would love you as indeed I love.