Thursday, July 2, 2026

2 July 2026 - you won't carry that weight

Today's Readings
(Audio)

And there people brought to him a paralytic lying on a stretcher.
When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic,
"Courage, child, your sins are forgiven."


The friends of the paralytic spared no effort to bring him before the healing power of Jesus. Their friend had a real problem that severely impacted the quality of his life, that prevented him from thriving and him becoming all intended by God. Unless they were aware of the particular sins with which the man struggled they probably found the pronouncement of his forgiveness as anticlimactic. It would be like going to the ministry of some famous healer hoping for a cure to a longtime ailment but only being able to receive sacramental confession. This would probably feel like a let down, and yet to Jesus forgiveness is a greater and more important gift than merely physical healing. Healing of the soul, which lasts forever, takes primacy over healing of the body, which will again begin to decay the moment is temporarily restored. But this is not to say that Jesus does not care about the problems of the body such as sickness or disability.

But that you may know that the Son of Man
has authority on earth to forgive sins"–
he then said to the paralytic,
"Rise, pick up your stretcher, and go home."


What was the main purpose of the healing? Was it to merely restore the man to health so that he could live the normal life of which he had been until that moment deprived? No. It had that effect, but that wasn't the primary point. Rather it was to help people to experience a spiritual truth through a physical sign. It was meant to help the friends who brought the paralytic to Jesus to appreciate that their effort meant more than they knew. It was to help those skeptics in the crowd who heard his words understand that Jesus was able to do something merely by speaking that would otherwise require the whole sacrificial system of the temple. It revealed that he was in the unique position to offer forgiveness on behalf of God himself, and this, ultimately, because that was who he was. It was very much a revelation, a pulling back of the curtain on his deepest identity.

He rose and went home.
When the crowds saw this they were struck with awe
and glorified God who had given such authority to men.


It seemed that the forgiveness of the paralytic followed by his healing had every effect Jesus intended. It resulted in the man rising and going home to a new life. It resulted in the crowds coming to understand a little better who Jesus was. But no doubt, the most profound result was actually in the soul, not the body, of the former paralytic himself. This part we don't see described in the story. We know nothing of the way sin had distorted his very identity. But we are sure that it was a deeper paralysis than the merely physical. It probably seemed even more intractable, more rooted in his very identity, more inseparable from who he was as a person. And yet, he left without that weight. However light his body felt when he stood for the first time (perhaps ever), we believe that his spirit felt lighter still. 

Darrell Evans - Trading My Sorrows

 

Wednesday, July 1, 2026

1 July 2026 - a swine idea

 

Today's Readings
(Audio)

When Jesus came to the territory of the Gadarenes,
two demoniacs who were coming from the tombs met him.
They were so savage that no one could travel by that road.


When the powers of darkness hold sway, when demons hold human souls under their power, there are possibilities that are inaccessible and roads that cannot be traveled. These two individuals were not able to play their intended role in the life of the larger world. On top of that, they made life more difficult for those who would have preferred to use the roads they occupied. People had to choose other routes while the possessed individuals themselves were increasingly alienated. In our own time, even without full scale possession, we may wonder what roads and possibilities would open in our world if only Jesus reigned in the hearts of more of his creatures. 

The demons pleaded with him,
“If you drive us out, send us into the herd of swine.”

Jesus is unwilling to see the potential of his creatures squandered. He is willing to take extreme measures to set them free, even if there is some initial collateral damage. In modern times we would be eager to cast out the powers of darkness, but perhaps only after we found a way to soften the blow to the economy. Jesus instead acted for the sake of individual human souls and left the economy to adapt to the consequences. This did not make him popular, at least not at first, while people struggled to find new and less compromised ways to make a living. We can see for their response to the actions of Jesus that they cared more about their income and less about the two individual who were now set free. 

Thereupon the whole town came out to meet Jesus,
and when they saw him they begged him to leave their district.

These two individuals, who were in their right minds for the first time in a long time, actually had more to offer to the life of the community than a herd of swine. No amount of bacon, however thick or nitrate-free, can add up to the value of a single soul. And that is no mere abstraction. When everyone in a community is living up to their God given potential that community can thrive in ways that remain impossible if it manages to shield itself from the healing disruption Jesus seeks to bring. But rigid order resists disruption in ways that are sometimes helpful, but often serve only to preserve the status quo. We are heartened to see that Jesus did not ask permission, did not wait to get enough votes in a committee formed to study the issue, before unleashing his power.

In what ways are we still clinging to the status quo merely because it is convenient rather than cooperating with the creative disruption Jesus would unleash in our world? The power of darkness will not be allowed to last forever. There is an appointed time after which they will be cast into the abyss. And so we should untether our destiny from theirs sooner rather than later. We should hitch our wagons to a power leading us down a path that has a future. This we should do both as individuals and as a larger society. No more can we neglect the disenfranchised few for the happiness of the many. We must be a society that seeks to recover every lost sheep, to welcome and care for everyone.

Newsboys - Thrive

 

Tuesday, June 30, 2026

30 June 2026 - and there was great calm

Today's Readings
(Audio)

As Jesus got into a boat, his disciples followed him.
Suddenly a violent storm came up on the sea,
so that the boat was being swamped by waves;


Storms are bad enough on their own, but are even worse when they seem to be the result of our decision to follow Jesus. In normal life storms are a regular occurrence. But when we follow Jesus we tend to expect smooth sailing. We think he could at least probably see storms coming and keep us on the shore, with a spiritual small craft advisory in effect. When storms do occur while we are together with Jesus it seems to imply a lack of power on his part, as though if he had power he would always use it to spare us any struggle. Or perhaps we see his lack of immediate response as indifferent, as though he is asleep in our boat precisely because he doesn't care that we are perishing and can't be bothered to help us. 

They came and woke him, saying,
“Lord, save us!  We are perishing!”

At least, for all their fear, the disciples still believed that Jesus might be able to save them. And yet, if they really understood who he was they need not have been terrified. If they had greater faith they could have seen the storm without fearing for their lives. They could have trusted that if Jesus led them into a storm, he had a reason for doing so, and could also lead them through it.

He said to them, “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?”
Then he got up, rebuked the winds and the sea,
and there was great calm.

Jesus wanted to give his disciples a theophany, a revelation of the fact that he was God incarnate, based on a demonstration of his power to do what only God could do. But this necessitated more than a highly accurate weather report around which they could plan their lives. It required that they actually be present with forces that would typically be beyond human control. Thus he did not defer to the weather as a force with which even he could not reckon. He sailed into the heart of a storm and from there rebuked it. He demonstrated that the power of his word was greater than even the most impressive demonstration of nature itself. This clearly identified him with the Lord himself, of whom the psalmist wrote:

Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
Then they were glad that the waters were quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven
(see Psalm 107:28-30).

Only because of the storm were the disciples able to grow in their faith, which growth was a far greater good than merely avoiding the storm in the first place. Yet it remains hard for us to recognize any value in the storms of our lives. The initial experience always feels more unplanned and accidental. But if we remember that Jesus is with us we need not fear. If he seems asleep we can remember that it is not because of indifference. There may well be times when we are called to awaken him and ask for help. But we need not do so with desperation as if the world is ending. He has overcome storms before. Indeed, he has already "overcome the world" (see John 16:33). This is why trust in him really does yield peace beyond understanding (see Philippians 4:7). He doesn't lead us into storms to take our peace away, but rather to set it on more solid foundations. That which is shakable is shaken so that which cannot be shaken remains (see Hebrews 12:27).

Hillsong UNITED - Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)

 

Monday, June 29, 2026

29 June 2026 - exult his name together

Today's Readings
(Audio)

And so I say to you, you are Peter,
and upon this rock I will build my Church,
and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.


Jesus did not promise a Church that would always look good or be held in honor from an earthly perspective. He did not suggest that it would not contain the bad along with the good. In fact, in the parable of the wheat and the tares he promised precisely the opposite. He didn't promise a Church with a perfect defense, that would always be insulated and safe from the contagion of the world. But he did promise a Church that would always be capable of its divine mission, that being laying siege to hell and setting free people held captive by the powers of darkness. But this promise implied real guarantees of things that were necessary to ensure it. For instance, it was by knowing the truth that people could be set free (see John 8:32). Thus there was the implicit promise that the Church would always have sufficient access to those truths necessary for our salvation. She wasn't guaranteed all knowledge or that she would always act in accord with the truth she did possess. But the essential truth would always be present and, to one degree or another, mobilized for the sake of the Kingdom. There may have been periods with more or less confusion about practical matters. But the core sacramental realities of the Church and the fundamental matters of the creed and of the Gospel could never be lost. They were the basis by which the world could by which the gates of the netherworld could be broken wide open and humanity could be saved.

I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven.
Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;
and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

In order to meaningfully possess the truth it was necessary that it be identified and distinguished from falsehoods, many of which often sounded intuitive enough to be true and similar enough to be plausible. Although Jesus gave the Spirit as teacher and guide to every Christian he did not insist that each of us by our own final arbiter of truth. It is not the job of most sheep to be experts, but rather, to be docile to the voice of the shepherd. But in order to exercise proper docility we must know where to listen. Thus Jesus singled out Peter as the source and focal point of unity in the Church. He and those in union with him could and did proclaim the Gospel faithfully and without error. His successor, the bishop of Rome, and those bishops in union with him do the same in our own day. They continue to make the voice of the shepherd clear and distinct through the power of the keys to bind and loose. Sheep that try to reconstruct theology solely by their own resources and abilities do stay in agreement with other sheep for very long. The statements of faith are constantly being modified and branching off into various distinct paths, all often emphasizing some important truth. But that emphasis always come at a cost. It may have been said that each man has a pope in his belly. But this is not a productive impulse to let govern our life as followers of Jesus. We should prefer to be one flock under the voice of the one shepherd, Jesus, made know through his appointed steward.

He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?”
Simon Peter said in reply,
“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah.

The Church may possess the truth and provide the invitation. But she cannot have the encounter with Jesus that we are called to have for us without our involvement. And the main point of the Church is not just that people can know the truth abstractly and academically. It is rather so that people can encounter the Truth who is a Person and be transformed by him. The whole Church is shaped to make the revelation experienced by Simon Peter available to the entire world. When it seems that the forces of the netherworld are ascendant and the Church herself seems to be struggling it is often because we forget that which matters most, that which is most distinctive: the centrality of the person of Christ that should be her deepest priority and identity.

When we encounter Jesus in the way that both Peter and Paul encountered him we become capable of living, and even, if necessary, dying for him. Then we will truly believe that there is nothing more important for us to be able to say at the end of our days than, "I have kept the faith", nothing better to look forward to than the "crown of righteousness". It is not primarily our own righteousness that is crowned. It is rather that we become the righteousness of Christ (see Second Corinthians 5:21) and he crowns his own merits in us. At the end we hope to see that we didn't resist him too much, choke off the grace he offered, or stubbornly prevent him from having his way in us. And this will be true of us as well as Paul, provided that we come to know Jesus and to rely on him throughout the challenges that are part and parcel of life in a fallen world.

The Lord stood by me and gave me strength,
so that through me the proclamation might be completed
and all the Gentiles might hear it.


When we know Jesus, we know it is all about him. That means that even more than our weaknesses and failures we can trust in him for strength until we can say with Paul:

And I was rescued from the lion’s mouth.
The Lord will rescue me from every evil threat
and will bring me safe to his heavenly Kingdom.
To him be glory forever and ever.  Amen.

Shane And Shane - Psalm 34 (Taste And See)

 

 

Sunday, June 28, 2026

28 June 2026 - lost and found

 

Today's Readings
(Audio)

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,
and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;

No one loved his mother more than did Jesus himself. Jesus was not suggesting that family was unimportant. After all, he invented the idea of human family. He himself decided to be born into a human family, under the authority of his parents, honoring them according to the very commandment that he himself first gave to Moses on Mount Sinai. Indeed well functioning families seemed so fundamental to the very fabric of society that one would seem to neglect the institution at his own peril. Nevertheless even family, when not ordered to God, can become an obstacle. It can actually become antagonistic to the good plans God had for the world. Mary and Jesus both easily could have preferred their life together to his sorrowful and difficult mission. They could have chosen to place this family bond of theirs at the center of their lives rather than placing God first. But Mary chose to love her son more than herself, to the degree that she desired for him what he desired for himself, even though it proved to be the cross. And Jesus chose faithfulness to his own divine identity, obedience to his heavenly Father, even over his most beloved bond with his earthly mother.

and whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me.


We too must choose to place Jesus first in all things. Good things in our lives will remain good to the degree that they are open and ordered to Jesus and his mission. They will become idols to the degree that we refuse to allow God to be involved and insist on being the ultimate arbiters of our own decisions about them. It doesn't matter how good and incorruptible anything seems to be. It only has its goodness from God and is eventually revealed to be empty when we refuse to surrender it to him. All the more, then, must we reject things which are not in any sense good, and this for the sake of Jesus. It is not enough to merely reject bad things because they are bad. We will wind up like an empty house that is now swept, clean, and inviting for the return of "seven other spirits more evil than itself" (see Matthew 12:45). But when we reject vice and sin for the sake of Jesus he himself fills the emptiness left by their absence. 

Whoever finds his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.


Life is obviously a good thing, a prerequisite for pretty much anything else. But if we prefer even our very lives to God they quickly go off the rails. We lose our freedom to follow him, not only when our lives are on the line, but even when they are threatened in lesser ways that still evoke the fear, rooted in death, that we all have as mortal beings. When we seek life in a limited and relative way there is a degree to which we may hope to seek and actually find it. But if we insist too strongly on seeking life at any cost we will quickly discover diminishing returns. We will never achieve such a perfect guarantee of life independent of God as to be satisfactory to our fear stricken egos. But that does not mean that we are called to take a hostile attitude toward ourselves. The idea is more that we not focus excessively on ourselves, to the degree that we could even lose ourselves without noticing, because we are too caught up in the larger story God is telling. We could lose our lives for his sake. If we finally achieve that level of detachment, it will be then that we truly find ourselves and possess ourselves without danger.

Whoever receives you receives me,
and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.

When we stop seeking ourselves first we become free to receive others. We are not so closed and self-directed as to reject them outright, not so preoccupied with our own stuff that we can't really listen sympathetic to their stories. We've probably all had the experience of talking with someone who could only listen impatiently waiting for his next turn to speak. But when we seek Jesus first, we can actually find his presence in all of those whom we are called to receive. Any hospitality we show or charity we offer can be done as for Jesus himself. By contrast, when we still choose to put ourselves first we don't really have the freedom to open ourselves to others. There is always a element of selfishness, however hidden, even in those acts of our that appear to be the most altruistic.

And whoever gives only a cup of cold water
to one of these little ones to drink
because the little one is a disciple—
amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.


At first, when we hear the Gospel summons to take up our cross we think it may be an impossibly high bar. Perhaps we remember the quote of Bonhoeffer, who wrote, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die". And yet today's Gospel passage goes on to show us that the bar is not in fact so very high. We worry that if we don't get everything exactly right as disciples, if there is any residual selfishness in us, that we risk losing our lives entirely. But the call is not about immediate perfection. It is more about our fundamental orientation. Jesus makes it clear that the one who commits himself to him, even through acts that are almost embarrassingly insignificant, "will surely not lose his reward". He is able to work through every small act of surrender we make, drawing us ever deeper into his own heart.

Newsboys - Lead Me To The Cross

 

Saturday, June 27, 2026

27 June 2026 - belief > barriers

Today's Readings
(Audio)

He said to him, “I will come and cure him.”

The Catholic Commentary of Sacred Scripture suggests that "Jesus acknowledges the boldness of the centurion's request in his response, which is better translated as an exclamatory question: "Shall I come and cure him?" With the emphatic "I," it is as if Jesus is saying, "Shall I, a Jew, come to your home?"" ¹. This provides context for the response of the centurion, who said "Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed". It wasn't just polite humility being displayed by the centurion, nor a mere formality. Jesus suggested a real potential barrier that perhaps ought to have prevented him from granting the centurion's request. In a way not entirely dissimilar to how leprosy should have kept him separated from lepers, that fact of this person being a Gentile seemed to suggest an insurmountable obstacle to the healing power of Jesus.

For I too am a man subject to authority,
with soldiers subject to me.
And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes;
and to another, ‘Come here,’ and he comes;
and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”


The centurion's faith invited Jesus to surmount a barrier which was in fact only apparent and not absolute. If he had a limited belief about Jesus, that he needed to be physically present in order to perform the healing, that belief might have limited what Jesus was able to do in his case. Further, he might well have believed such a thing about Jesus if he had simply thought he was one more in the mold of human healers. Even when such people had real gifts those gifts had limits. It was not something one could take for granted that the power of a healer could transcend time and space. But the centurion recognized some kind of analogy between his own authority as a military leader, which was, in a weaker way, able to bridge the barrier of distance, with that of the words of Jesus. It was just that while the centurion commanded soldiers, Jesus commanded nature, and reality itself. And this was something he could have known in no other way than through faith.

Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.
I say to you, many will come from the east and the west,
and will recline with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
at the banquet in the Kingdom of heaven


Just as the barrier of leprosy was not able to stand against the power of Jesus released through faith neither was the division between Gentile and Jew. His healing power would be available, not to those born of a specific lineage, but to all who believed. Jesus had the power to transcend such barriers because he had the power to heal the problems that were at the root which made them necessary in the first place. But in general, it did not happen automatically. Nor was it possible on the basis of presumption. It took humility to even recognize the need for the faith necessary to let Jesus work.

And at that very hour his servant was healed. Jesus entered the house of Peter,
and saw his mother-in-law lying in bed with a fever.
He touched her hand, the fever left her,
and she rose and waited on him.


The inclusion of the story about the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in today's Gospel reading is informative in that it seemed that this time Jesus took the initiative. It was not always necessary for a dramatic request and display of faith on the part of those in need. Once they had put their faith in Jesus and became his followers he would take care of those who were his own, and even surprise them with the blessings he unleashed in their lives. We should of course continue to bring our needs to Jesus as his disciples, just as did the crowds. But it is reassuring to know that we don't have to iterate an exhaustive list. It doesn't ultimately come down to us, or even to our ability to know what to want or ask. After all, that is exactly the promise we have, more than all we can ask or imagine (see Ephesians 3:20).

 1) The Gospel of Matthew (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture): (A Catholic Bible Commentary on the New Testament by Trusted Catholic Biblical Scholars - CCSS) by Curtis Mitch, Edward Sri

Graham Kendrick - We Believe

 

Friday, June 26, 2026

26 June 2026 - reintegration

Today's Readings
(Audio)

Moses, who came down from Mount Sinai, gave a law that was rigorous in its demands that insisted on the separation of those with leprosy from the people, and for obvious reasons. It wasn't a failure of compassion on his part. All that the law could do to stem corruption was to isolate it and push it away from public life. It mitigated the risk of contagion but could not offer a cure. 

When Jesus came down from the mountain, great crowds followed him.
And then a leper approached, did him homage, and said,
“Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.”

Jesus was like a new Moses, but one who could actually treat the root causes of things for which Moses could only address the symptoms. His words had power, not just in a legal sense, but even over the workings of nature. But it was clear that no one had authority over him. His power was untamed and unpredictable. He was Lord, in the same sense as the Lord God himself, and therefore worthy of homage. One could not automatically assume he would do something miraculous in any given case. But his compassion for those who were like sheep without a shepherd was obvious. There was good reason for the leper to hope that he would want to heal him. After all, the Lord God would desire to see creation functioning according to his original intention, not marred by sin, sickness, and death. Whether he dealt with it immediately or eventually he certainly found it intolerable to let a disease like leprosy have the last word.

He stretched out his hand, touched him, and said,
“I will do it.  Be made clean.”


Jesus by no means needed to touch the leper to heal him. In other instances he healed from a distance at the power of his word. But in order for the leper to truly be healed of everything entailed by his disease this touch of Jesus was necessary. Otherwise, his body might have regained integrity but his heart would still have been wounded, not fully able to be reintegrated into the life of the community. The touch of Jesus healed his sense of himself as one defined by his illness. It had previously seemed to be an insurmountable barrier between himself and others. But Jesus overcame it and set him on a path to return to the worshiping community

Then Jesus said to him, “See that you tell no one,
but go show yourself to the priest,
and offer the gift that Moses prescribed;
that will be proof for them.”

In addition to this historical healing of a leper we can also learn from the event as a metaphor for sin and forgiveness. What Moses could not do because of the hardness of the people's hearts Jesus would accomplish by giving us new hearts, renewed by the Holy Spirit. He would not just address the external manifestations of sin with rules but would actually heal the problem from its root in the center of our beings. More and more we would cease to choose or even desire sinful things. But perhaps greater still, we can come to learn by his healing touch that we are lovable, something that our sinfulness causes us to doubt and disbelieve. Who would love one so twisted and fallen as we? Jesus proves that he does by his willingness to touch us. It is on this basis that we have the emotional and spiritual resources to participate in the life of the community. It isn't about us, so much as what he has done within us.

May my tongue cleave to my palate
if I remember you not,
If I place not Jerusalem
ahead of my joy.

Matisyahu - Jerusalem