Tuesday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time






Jesus departed to the mountain to pray, and he spent the night in prayer to God. . . . Everyone in the crowd sought to touch him because power came forth from him and healed them all.





There is a clear line between cause and effect in today’s Gospel reading. Jesus spends the night in prayer to God, and the next day he called the Twelve Apostles to follow him and healed everyone in the crowd of their diseases and unclean spirits. How was this possible except through Jesus’ connection to God through prayer? And what was the result? “Power came forth from him and healed them all.”





As Father Burke Masters says, “If Jesus needed to pray, how much more do we need to pray?” God, help me understand the necessity of prayer, not because of its effect or because through it I will become powerful, but because you are the source of all love and you loved me first. Jesus models how to pray to the Father, and he sets a high standard for having an authentic relationship with him through prayer. In the midst of a busy day, how will I be able to rise to that standard? God, give me the grace to return to you throughout today.





Jesus, teach me to go as you did to the Father, who knows what I need even before I ask. I want to know that I can ask anything of you as I weigh the day’s decisions, however small, and be confident that you hear and answer me.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





Readings


Monday of the Twenty-third Week in Ordinary Time


Then Jesus said to the scribes and Pharisees, “I ask you, is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?”





The scribes and Pharisees are with Jesus in the synagogue. A man with a withered hand is present, so they are watching Jesus to see if he will cure on the sabbath so that they can accuse him of something. Jesus knew their intentions and what to say to them, which is echoed in the Psalms: “For you, O God, delight not in wickedness; no evil man remains with you; the arrogant may not stand in your sight. You hate all evildoers.” Jesus cured the man, calling out beforehand the evil of the scribes and Pharisees. I can see myself in the role of the man with the withered hand. Being like Jesus is in this passage—that’s another thing.





Although Jesus was in a position to judge them as the Son of God, when in my own life am I able to judge others? I think of certain vocations such as marriage and parenting that call for me to be responsible to others in helping them choose to do good. God, help me understand that to be in a position as Saint Paul is in the first reading, to call out the evil of others, means that I must live a life that aims always for a higher moral standard. How can I point out the splinter in my brother’s eye without first removing the beam from my own eye? And what do I stand on when doing that? In sincerity and truth. Saint Paul says, “For our Paschal Lamb, Christ, has been sacrificed. Therefore, let us celebrate the feast, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.”





I will struggle today, Lord. I will wish to spend my time in the best way possible, and it still won’t feel like I am doing enough. Be with me, and let me know you are present. I may not be able to stop myself from feeling that time slips away from me and that I can’t hope to accomplish all I hope to do. Let it be enough to know that I can rest in you and trust that what you have for me restores me and is life giving. In that way, help me to choose to do good and turn away from evil.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





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Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time


“In the same way, anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”





In this Sunday’s Gospel reading, Jesus lays out to the crowds—not just the disciples—the cost of discipleship. What Jesus says seems harsh and confusing: “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” In my own life with my family, how can it be that I hate my family and then follow Jesus?





God, help me understand this. Because the use of the word hate seems discordant with the same God made man who says you must love your neighbor as yourself, I looked up the the Greek term from which hate is translated. Some of the translations render the Greek term as “love less” or “esteem less.” It is much easier for me to think that Jesus is asking me not to hate my family but to love them or give them less esteem than I do God. As Chicago Bears running back Gayle Sayers has said, “I am third. God is first, others are second, and I am third.”





From the Gospel acclamation, we hear: “Let your face shine upon your servant; and teach me your laws.” If anything stands in the way of that, Lord, let me put that aside. When you say that I cannot be your disciple unless I renounce my possessions, I must remember that everything I know in this world will pass away but that you are always present at my side. I think about Saint Francis renouncing all material goods right down to the robe that covered his skin. As Saint Paul says, “For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things and I consider them so much rubbish, that I may gain Christ.” God, “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain wisdom of heart.” Through your grace, let me learn to love you more than anything else I know or have.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





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Friday of the Twenty-second Week in Ordinary Time


Jesus answered them, “Can you make the wedding guests fast while the bridegroom is with them? But the days will come, and when the bridegroom is taken away from them, then they will fast in those days.”





Is this the time in my life when the bridegroom Christ is with me, or is it the day when he has been taken away from me? Do I celebrate the presence of Christ in my life, or do I fast because he is absent? At the start of the day, I feel a little bit of both of these. How can I make Christ more present today?





God, help me understand that the scribes and Pharisees scrutinized everything Jesus and his disciples did. As I try to piece together how today will play out with many moving pieces, help me understand that you are with me and will not be taken away unless I allow it. Thank you for your presence, Lord!





In receiving the Eucharist this morning, teach me to let go of the oppressive weight of things I cannot change, things I cannot at the moment get to that are gathering dust. It is enough to turn and face the people who are present today and be with them. Jesus, you are the new wine; stay with me today.





Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.





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