14 February 2026 - where can anyone get enough?

Today's Readings
(Audio)

His disciples answered him, “Where can anyone get enough bread
to satisfy them here in this deserted place?”

After the earlier occasion when Jesus fed the five thousand they ought to have already known the answer to their own question. But it is true of all of us that we don't always immediately internalize the superabundance of Jesus even when he clearly manifests it in our own lives. We still tend to face future situations, even similar ones, as though we are on are own. The disciples may thus have forgotten that they did have a way to help. Or, if they dimly remembered, they didn't choose to remember fully because they were now in Gentile territory (the Decapolis) and they did not yet have enough room in their hearts for these people. Jesus had been moved with compassion for the five thousand, but was equally moved with pity for this crowd. He desired that his disciples enlarge their hearts and expand the borders of their compassion to recognize that these people had the same needs as anyone, and that, he, Jesus, was the solution.

If I send them away hungry to their homes,
they will collapse on the way,
and some of them have come a great distance.

The disciples role in feeding the crowds represented the duties of the Church to the world in the age to come. She was not only to meet the spiritual needs of the people, but also do everything necessary to ensure that their material needs were met, and this precisely so that they might not miss out on the spiritual things Jesus had to offer because they were otherwise too distracted. Such individuals might begin to discover the reality of Jesus but go out to find a way to met their needs but experience a collapse on the way of the budding spiritual life that was beginning to grow within them. Thus their material needs, while not primary, were almost like prerequisites in the hierarchy of necessities. Jesus would refuse to be made king merely on the basis of meeting physical needs. But when he could meet them in such a way that it conduced to the spiritual good of others he always did so.

He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground.
Then, taking the seven loaves he gave thanks, broke them,
and gave them to his disciples to distribute,
and they distributed them to the crowd.

The Church is not an NGO or a nonprofit that merely addresses itself to the many physical needs of the world. There is a difference about the love with which she addresses those needs, and the guidance she follows in doing so, and the aid she receives from the Lord as she does, that distinguishes her efforts. Every instance of genuine Christian love is a foreshadowing in preparation of the consummation of that love with Christ in heaven. Therefore all acts of love, even the corporeal acts of mercy, also lead to the Eucharist, since it is there that we partake of a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. We must not be content to merely give people bread and then leave them to their own spiritual resources. Of that bread it is said that they will hunger again. But the bread Jesus really wants to give, his flesh for the life of the world, leaves no more room for hunger.

They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets.
There were about four thousand people. 

The seven baskets left over may have represented the seven pagan nations. Perhaps the four in the four thousand pointed to the four cardinal directions. The lesson would then be that there was no one anywhere who was not loved by Jesus, no one who could not find room in his compassionate heart. The disciples were supposed to learn this lesson so that the needs, both material and spiritual, of the world could be met. So too are we to ensure that we don't have blind spots. So too must we ensure that we don't stop short of playing our part in the plans Jesus has to share his love with the world.

BarlowGirl - Enough

 

13 February 2026 - he has done all things well

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

And people brought to him a deaf man who had a speech impediment
and begged him to lay his hand on him.
He took him off by himself away from the crowd. 

There are many times when the presence of a crowd isn't conducive to healing. It may lead to self-consciousness that makes one unwilling to be fully vulnerable to the Lord. Yet many of us are unwilling to be led away from the noise and confusion into a place of stillness where we can be alone with Jesus. Even if we can't effectively communicate with the crowds, we refuse to unplug so as to become plugged in to something better. We can't, or can only barely, hear the crowds through our own filters and preconceptions. What we often do hear sounds more like cacophonous unintelligible noise. When we try and speak into this milieu is it any wonder that our words don't come out as we intend, that we are unable to make ourselves completely intelligible, or to have the impact we desire? Yet, we think, better the devil you know than the messiah you don't. The world may be filled with noise, but we are used to that noise, even if it deafens us. Who knows what might happen alone in the silence with Jesus?

He put his finger into the man's ears
and, spitting, touched his tongue;
then he looked up to heaven and groaned, and said to him,
"Ephphatha!" (that is, "Be opened!")

Had he healed the man if the presence of the crowd it might have seemed, even to the man healed, like it was more of a publicity stunt than an act of mercy. But by his one on one engagement with the deaf-mute man he demonstrated that his action was entirely for his sake. Not only that, but the way in which Jesus healed the man was deeply intimate. He touched him in a way both physical and spiritual, once again shaping the elements of creation, as he had done with Adam, but this time to restore and to heal him. Just as we are often afraid to come away from the crowds, so too are we often afraid to allow Jesus to touch us so deeply. But when we are willing, and let him have his way in us, we will hear in a new way. We will listen to God's word first, with none of the crowd to distract us, and will learn to speak in accord with that word.

And immediately the man's ears were opened,
his speech impediment was removed,
and he spoke plainly. 

Only once we've had this encounter with Jesus can we hope to have useful communication with the crowds of our world. Only then will we know how to listen with compassion. And only then will we have something worth saying in response.

He ordered them not to tell anyone. 
But the more he ordered them not to,
the more they proclaimed it. 
They were exceedingly astonished and they said,
"He has done all things well. 
He makes the deaf hear and the mute speak."

It is true that there was no practical way to keep the crowds from realizing what had happened. But by telling them not to proclaim it he perhaps at least caused them to more fully appreciate what exactly the event was about which they desired to speak. It was not merely a miracle, much less self-promotion. It was in fact God fulfilling the promises that he had made through the prophets (see Isaiah 35:5-6). It is he alone who does all things well. 

Sonicflood - I Want To Know You

 

12 February 2026 - dog food?

 

Today's Readings
(Audio)

He said to her, “Let the children be fed first.
For it is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”

If it were us who came to Jesus in our time of need and heard this in reply we might have made a variety of different responses, from despair to anger. But would any of us respond with in the persistent, humble, and hopeful way that the Syrophoenician woman did? We sometimes feel a sense of entitlement that makes us imagine ourselves to be deserving of divine blessings. When God makes us reckon with the fact that it is his election that is the basis of blessings we tend to react by closing down, walling off, and walking away. Or else, we take it personally, as a condemnation of us as individuals. We internalize the reality of ourselves as "dogs" and wallow in the fact that we are apparently unwanted. Either anger or a sense of self-pity can equally keep us from receiving blessings of which God has by no means denied us. Are we too proud to receive that which is unearned and undeserved? Or are we too saddened by our own insignificance to even ask? Somehow, miraculously, this Greek woman did not succumb to either extreme.

She replied and said to him,
“Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps.”

Did Jesus say no? There were dozens of permutations of what he may have intended to say that implied a negative answer. It would have been easy to give up and go home. She was a foreigner, a woman, and a stranger. Jesus did not exactly give her such a welcome as to imply he was ready to help. He seemed to emphasize the difference between them, seemed to imply it was a barrier to her request. It would have been easy for a fallen human mind to assume the worst, as we often do. 

In some sense, the most miraculous thing in this account is that this woman didn't give up. She persisted, perhaps because she recognized that Jesus was more than a mere teacher and healer. She called him "Lord", and seemed to believe that his goodness could not leave even dogs without sufficient scraps to satisfy them. She might not have fully understood what it really meant to call Jesus Lord. But she did seem to regard him with an appropriate sort of reverence. This was not only demonstrated by the way she fell at his feet and begged him. It was demonstrated by the way she expressed faith in the superabundance Jesus possessed, from which he could give her what she asked without anyone else needing to have less because of it. It was not a zero sum game with God. He didn't have to balance blessings, because he always had more than enough, infinite sufficiency in himself. This fact that he could feed the dogs and the children with no one left in hunger or want was a nascent, implicit belief in his divinity.

Then he said to her, “For saying this, you may go.
The demon has gone out of your daughter.”

Her faith made possible one of the two times in the Gospels in which Jesus healed from a distance. Her healing not only fulfill her wishes and save her daughter. It implicitly demonstrated that the Gospel was meant to be bread for all peoples, both Gentile and Jew. It was among the first indications of the feast that would be fully revealed in the Eucharist.

When Solomon was old his wives had turned his heart to strange gods,
and his heart was not entirely with the LORD, his God,
as the heart of his father David had been.

Solomon seemed to turn to other sources to meet his desires. He turned to strange gods when his own God no longer satisfied him. We are often more like Solomon in this regard than the Syrophoenician woman, more ready to try alternatives than to persist in prayer. But this woman, among other lessons, demonstrates that the lack of an immediate is by no means a denial. Sometimes it really is meant to lead us to greater faith, and even to unlock blessings for those around us.

John Michael Talbot - I Am The Bread Of Life

 

11 February 2026 - under control?

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

Hear me, all of you, and understand.
Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person;
but the things that come out from within are what defile.

We live in a society that is wont to blame circumstances, to point the finger at factors beyond our control. And it is true that the circumstances in our day are dire in many ways. Wealth is not distributed equitably. Many in need have far too little. Others have far too much and squander it on frivolity. Power is not awarded to the virtuous, and is often accumulated by the vicious. In the smaller sphere of our daily lives we seldom experience perfection even at this reduced scale. Everything from unpleasant people to unpleasant weather, traffic, bills, unsympathetic corporations, all of these find ample opportunities to kill our vibe. But, though our circumstances are beyond our power to control, they are not in charge of what matters most. Our circumstances, external factors, cannot defile us. That is, they cannot taint our souls. Unless, of course, we let them. Since "what comes out of the man" is what defiles him it is precisely in our response to our circumstances that we can become defiled. But this is something that is always within our purview, always in our locus of control.

From within the man, from his heart,
come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder,
adultery, greed, malice, deceit,
licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, folly.
All these evils come from within and they defile.

It is not the thoughts themselves that defile us, but rather the way we deal with them, the way we respond. It is not so much how they are within us, but the ways they go out of us through our will. Do we seek out occasions that we already know cause us to experience evil thoughts? Do we intentionally ruminate on them even when we recognize them, at which time we should rather reject them with the full force of our will? Do we allow ourselves to wallow in evil thoughts, or do we instead intentionally meditate on better ones, on the words of Scripture perhaps or, "whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise" (see Philippians 4:8). 

We are not necessarily impregnable fortresses against a fallen world. Our hearts collude with circumstances to bring us down and keep us sinking in the mire of our pits, like the prophet Jeremiah (see Jeremiah 38:6). But we have been given renewed minds (see First Corinthians 2:16), and the potential to walk in victory (see John 16:33, First John 4:4), by Jesus himself, through his Spirit. We can let ourselves be transformed by the renewal of our minds and walk in victory. Or we can resign ourselves to succumbing to circumstances and our own fallen nature. What we should choose is obvious. The Spirit is whispering to us now that victory is possible. Let us embrace his plan to renew us in the image of Jesus (see Romans 12:2), the image according to which we were created. When we do others will experience of us something like what the Queen of Sheba experienced from Solomon. They will be captivated by our wisdom, and ready learn of its source.

Your wisdom and prosperity surpass the report I heard.
Blessed are your men, blessed these servants of yours,
who stand before you always and listen to your wisdom.

Maranatha! Singers - I Will Delight

 

10 February 2026 - human tradition

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

"Why do your disciples not follow the tradition of the elders
but instead eat a meal with unclean hands?" 

Their traditions may well have begun based on a good impulse, one which broadened a ritual practice meant only for priests. They may have hoped that if everyone thus expressed their desire for right standing before God the whole nation achieve sufficient righteousness to be delivered from their enemies. The idea of involving the populace in religious piety was a potentially good thing. The desire for the nation to be pleasing to God was a good goal. But if they ever truly meant it from the heart it had nevertheless devolved into something that was merely performative. It had become a standard for measuring themselves against others, for judging themselves as superior based on their faultless performance. Others who followed their traditions served as affirmations of their importance and authority. Others who did not follow their traditions called, not only the practices, but even they themselves into question. Failing to follow their lead demonstrated that they were not impressed by their empty show. It implied that they did not see some of these reasons that the Pharisees valued themselves as valuable. 

This people honors me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me;
In vain do they worship me,
teaching as doctrines human precepts.

The problem with merely human traditions about God is that they are too easy for us to manipulate, even unconsciously, to serve our own ends. We discover some helpful pious practice, but then make a law of it, and use it to judge others who don't favor whatever our preferred devotion might be. We use external actions and appearance to mask a lack of true conversion of heart. Human tradition subjects divine revelation to human authority, and this can never end well.

'If someone says to father or mother,
"Any support you might have had from me is qorban"'
(meaning, dedicated to God),
you allow him to do nothing more for his father or mother.

Human tradition is something that allows us to manipulate the word of God in order to use it for ends for which God did not intend it. For those who didn't want to deal with the support of elderly parents it was often easier to reserve their money for a grandiose donation to the temple after their death. We can probably imagine many ways by which the veneer of religion could be used to divert us from the more difficult work of holiness in our daily lives. We ought to be on guard against pitting revelation against itself, of using one precept as an excuse to ignore others. 

“Can it indeed be that God dwells on earth?
If the heavens and the highest heavens cannot contain you,
how much less this temple which I have built! 

The Tradition of the Church is different from the tradition of men because the Church knows herself to be the servant and not the master of divine revelation. She knows that she does not understand exhaustively, cannot completely contain God so as to confine him. She is like the temple of Solomon, which was not a limit on God, but was indeed his dwelling place, a unique focal point of his presence on earth.

Blessed they who dwell in your house!
continually they praise you.

Matt Maher - Better Is One Day

 

9 February 2026 - immortal, invisible

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

When the priests left the holy place,
the cloud filled the temple of the LORD
so that the priests could no longer minister because of the cloud,
since the LORD’s glory had filled the temple of the LORD.

During the time of the Old Covenant it was not possible to have a direct and immediate vision of God. Even Moses was only granted a vision of his back. When Elijah met God in the famous encounter on the mountain he prepared himself by first wrapping his face in his mantle (see First Kings 19:11-3). This seems altogether reasonable if even the seraphim use their wings to veil their faces in the presence of the almighty (see Isaiah 6:1-3). We see the overwhelming intensity of God's presence in today's first reading, in which the priests could no longer minister once the glory of the Lord had filled the temple. This unapproachable nature of God continued to mark the ministry of the priesthood within the temple up through the time of Jesus. We read about this in the Letter to the Hebrews, which tells that the high priest goes into the Holy of Holies "but once a year, and not without taking blood" (see Hebrews 9:6).

They scurried about the surrounding country 
and began to bring in the sick on mats
to wherever they heard he was.

We ought to be struck, then, by how easy it was to approach Jesus, the fact that he rejected none who came to him (see John 6:37). If Jesus was in fact God, as it is clear that all of the Gospel writers believed, how was it safe to come to him so freely? Should it not have been the case that no one could see the face of God and live (see Exodus 33:20)? Part of the reason this was possible was because his presence was still veiled, now by his sacred humanity. His divinity was truly present, but visible only to the eyes of faith. Thus the people who came to him were able, according to their capacity, to encounter God himself, and to see the face of God, without being undone by it. We might imagine that even the less filtered vision granted to Peter, James, and John at the transfiguration was still something less than the fullness of the reality. 

Amazingly, it does seem that the full vision of the face of God is intended by him to be our destiny. The fact that the letter to the Hebrews encourages us to seek holiness without which no one will see God seems to assume that this is meant to be so (see Hebrews 12:14). The first letter of Saint John tells us, "we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is" (see First John 3:2). Paul tells the Corinthians that we now "see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face" (see First Corinthians 13:12). 

What we see now through faith is real, if partial. It is by means of faith that we are brought from being unable to approach God at all to the holiness that allows us to more and more behold him directly. Again, listen to Paul to the Corinthians, "we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another" (see Second Corinthians 3:18). The vision of faith transforms us by means of what we behold. It increases our capacity to guide our lives by hope and to live in love. The tradition of the Church calls the destiny of the blessed the beatific vision. Those who see this vision are so overwhelmed by it that they are more or less unable to sin, since in the light of such a vision sin is so obviously empty. And those who see it experience in that vision the fulfillment of every hope and desire.

Whatever villages or towns or countryside he entered,
they laid the sick in the marketplaces
and begged him that they might touch only the tassel on his cloak;
and as many as touched it were healed.

A take away for us is that the process of growth is often both humble and hidden. Those around Jesus experienced transformation by merely touching his clothing. This calls us in turn to not take for granted on our opportunities for contact with Jesus, in his presence in others, in the sacraments, and especially in the Eucharist. If the crowds were healed when they so much as touched the tassel, how much more might we be healed if we encountered Jesus in the Eucharist with true and living faith?

 

Vineyard - I See The Lord

 

8 February 2028 - lights of the world

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

You are the salt of the earth.
But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned?
It is no longer good for anything
but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.

Salt was not used for its own sake. It was used as a flavor enhancer and preservative for other kinds of food. Just so, the Christian was meant to be a being for others. A Christian who did not become so was like salt that had lost its saltiness, something that should have been an impossibility. A Church that functioned this way would be like a growing quantity of stored salt that was never put to use. In such a world that might be many ingredients, but no food, and no feast. The point was not that Christians were supposed to become something they were not. It was that they were supposed to act in accord with the truth of their identity. They were salt in virtue of the fact that Jesus called them such, and therefore made them such, rather by their own cleverness or effort. But such a gift was also a calling. And the possibility of failing to live up to it was apparent, the danger about which Jesus warns us this morning.

You are the light of the world.
A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden.

In the Old Testament era it was well known that Jerusalem was the city set on a hill, mount Zion, the mountain of the Davidic covenant. It would, perhaps, have been convenient for it to have been something which one could hide. Then it wouldn't have been so provocatively tempting to its enemies. But the kingdom of David was only going to fulfill its potential to bless all nations and reveal to them God's wisdom if the world was aware of it. This had consequences and almost constantly involved it in conflict and competition with the powers of earthly kingdoms. So too with the Church. She can only be what she is meant to be when she is not hiding in the shadows but boldly pursuing her mission to the ends of the earth. So too with her individual members. The Church can't possibly be what she is meant to be with only the ordained and the professionals doing the work. All of the citizens of this new kingdom, this heavenly Jerusalem, have a part to play. If only the leadership is visible, but all of the members hide in the shadows, it will be difficult to persuade anyone it is a place worth living. Moreover, the members are able to reach into places and situations that professionally religious cannot. The professionals and the clergy exist at the service of the faithful, to give them the means of attaining holiness, and in order to equip them for their missions in ordinary life. 

Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket;
it is set on a lampstand,
where it gives light to all in the house.

We will shine as Christians as long as we don't intentionally cover ourselves and hide our light. Why would we want to avoid shining and, as it were, dim our potential? Perhaps because the light can sometimes appear garish to those whose eyes have not yet adjusted, and even unwelcome to those still dwelling in the darkness of sin. This is not to say that the light is equivalent with a critique of the darkness. It is not an intentionally intrusive act, not something that is merely about exposing corruption or evil. But in the presence of light evil always feel exposed. It's existence seems to say that there is a better way, a luminous way, that could be chosen but is being ignored and neglected. This provocation, the possibility of a different way, a higher and better one, tends to put evil of the defensive. It is no doubt at least partially because this is true that those who are meant to be light try to hide as though living through an air raid. Any crack in the blackout curtains might invite a bombing run close to home. But a lamp that isn't producing light isn't useful for anything. Its one virtue is to shine, not necessarily to the ends of the earth, but at least on the lampstand where it has been placed. If we will not shine for others, we will not even have light ourselves. To give light to all in the house we must not be afraid to shine.

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your wound shall quickly be healed;
your vindication shall go before you,
and the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer,
you shall cry for help, and he will say: Here I am!

The way we obtain healing, vindication, and help from God, is by embracing his plan for our lives, the new purpose he gave us when he made us new creations in Christ. If we put God and his kingdom first our own needs will not be forgotten. If we allow his light to rise within us, to break forth like the dawn to those around us, our own gloom shall become like midday, and our own wound shall quickly be healed.

TobyMac Featuring Hollyn - Lights Shine Bright