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Monday of the Third Week of Lent C: 2 Kings 5:1-15ab; Psalm 42:2-3; 43:3-4; Luke 4:24-30

Have you ever been in a situation where you thought you knew exactly how things should go, only to have life surprise you in a completely unexpected way? Maybe you had a plan—your career, your relationships, your future—but then something changed, and you had to rethink everything. Sometimes, these surprises are frustrating. Sometimes, they are blessings in disguise.

Today’s readings invite us to reflect on how God works in ways that often challenge our expectations. In the first reading, we meet Naaman, a great military commander who also has leprosy. He hears that the prophet Elisha in Israel can heal him. But when he arrives, Elisha doesn’t even come out to meet him. Instead, he sends a message: “Go wash seven times in the Jordan River.” Naaman is furious! He expected a grand healing ritual, something worthy of his status. He almost walks away, but his servants convince him to give it a try. And when he humbles himself and follows the prophet’s words, he is healed.

Doesn’t that sound familiar? How often do we expect God to act in a big, dramatic way, but He chooses something simple instead? Maybe we pray for a miracle, and instead, God gives us the grace to endure our struggles. Maybe we want a clear sign from heaven, and instead, He speaks to us in the quiet of our hearts or through the advice of a friend. Like Naaman, we can be tempted to reject God’s way because it doesn’t match our expectations.

Jesus makes this point even clearer in the Gospel. He returns to His hometown of Nazareth and speaks in the synagogue, but the people refuse to believe in Him. Why? Because He is too familiar to them! “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they say. They expect the Messiah to be someone extraordinary, someone different. But Jesus reminds them that God’s blessings often go to those who are open to receiving them, not necessarily those who think they deserve them. That’s why He brings up Naaman, a foreigner, who was healed while many in Israel were not. This enrages the people, and they try to throw Him off a cliff!

It’s a hard truth to accept: God’s ways are not our ways. He doesn’t fit into our little boxes. He chooses the unexpected. He blesses the outsider. He heals in ways we don’t always understand. The question is: Are we open to God’s surprises?

Think about your own life. Have you ever rejected something—or someone—because it didn’t match your idea of what was good? Maybe you resisted a change in your career, but later, it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. Maybe you judged someone too quickly, only to realize later that they were a blessing in your life. Maybe you ignored a small opportunity to serve, thinking it was unimportant, but in the end, it changed you deeply.

God asks us today to trust Him, even when things don’t make sense. To listen, even when His voice is quiet. To obey, even when His instructions seem simple. Like Naaman, we must be willing to let go of our pride and wash in the humble waters of faith. Like the people of Nazareth, we must resist the temptation to put limits on what God can do and whom He can bless.

So today, let’s open our hearts to the God of surprises. Let’s not miss His grace because we were expecting something else. And let’s trust that even when we don’t understand, His way is always the best way.

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Third Sunday of Lent C: Exodus 3:1-8a, 13-15; Psalm 103:1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8, 11; 1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12; Luke 13:1-9

Today’s readings invite us to reflect on two great truths: God’s boundless mercy and the urgency of our conversion. We see a God who calls, who saves, and who remains patient with us, but who also reminds us that we cannot take His mercy for granted. Lent is a time to recognize both His love and our responsibility to respond to it.

In the first reading, we hear the great moment of Moses’ encounter with God in the burning bush. Moses is simply tending his flock when he sees this strange sight—a bush that burns but is not consumed. When he approaches, God speaks: I have seen the suffering of my people, and I have come to rescue them. This is the heart of God—He is not distant, He is not indifferent. He sees, He hears, He comes to save. And He reveals His name: I AM WHO AM. God is not just a being among many; He is the source of all life, the One who was, who is, and who will always be. He is the God who walks with His people, the God who never abandons us.

The psalm beautifully echoes this truth: The Lord is kind and merciful… He pardons all your iniquities, He heals all your diseases, He redeems your life from destruction. Again, we see a God who is full of love, full of compassion, slow to anger, and rich in mercy. But this mercy is not a reason for complacency—it is a call to transformation.

St. Paul, in the second reading, reminds us of this. He speaks of the people of Israel who were guided by God, who received His blessings, and yet many of them still fell into sin. He warns us: Whoever thinks he is standing firm should be careful not to fall. In other words, we must not assume that just because we belong to God’s people, just because we go to Mass, just because we do good things, we are automatically safe. Our faith must be alive, our hearts must remain open to conversion.

Jesus takes up this theme in the Gospel. Some people tell Him about Galileans who were killed by Pilate, and they seem to be looking for an explanation—perhaps assuming that these people must have been greater sinners than others. But Jesus rejects this way of thinking. He does not say they were guiltier than others, but He does give a warning: Unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.

And then He tells the parable of the fig tree. For three years, the owner has come looking for fruit, but finds none. He is ready to cut it down. But the gardener intercedes: Give it one more year. I will cultivate the soil and fertilize it. If it bears fruit, well and good. If not, then you can cut it down.

This is a parable of God’s patience. Like the fig tree, we have been given time, we have been given grace, we have been given opportunity after opportunity to bear fruit in our lives. And yet, we cannot remain barren forever. The time for conversion is now. The mercy of God is immense, but it is not an excuse for delay. He is calling us today to turn back to Him, to renew our hearts, to live our faith more deeply.

Perhaps we feel like that barren fig tree—like we have wasted time, like we have not lived up to our calling. But the good news is this: God is still offering us His grace. He is still cultivating the soil, still giving us the chance to bear fruit. This Lent is that moment of grace,

Saturday of the Second Week of Lent C: Micah 7:14-15, 18-20; Psalm 103:1-2, 3-4, 9-10, 11-12; Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Today’s readings lead us to the heart of God: a heart full of mercy, always ready to forgive, always calling us back to Him. We hear about God’s compassion in the prophet Micah, we sing of His mercy in the psalm, and we see it most beautifully in Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son. These readings invite us to trust in God’s love and to open our hearts to conversion.

In the first reading, the prophet Micah praises God’s mercy. Who is like you, Lord, who removes guilt, who does not persist in anger, but delights in mercy? The prophet speaks to a people who have sinned, who have strayed from God’s ways. And yet, God does not abandon them. Instead, He promises to forgive, to cast their sins into the depths of the sea, to be faithful to His promises. This is the God we believe in—a God who does not hold onto our faults but longs to restore us.

The psalm continues this theme. The Lord is kind and merciful… He does not deal with us according to our sins. How often do we struggle to forgive ourselves? How often do we fear that our sins are too great, that we have disappointed God too much? But the psalm reassures us: As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our sins from us. God’s mercy is greater than our failures.

And then we come to the Gospel, where Jesus gives us one of the most powerful images of God’s love—the parable of the prodigal son. We know the story well. A son asks for his inheritance, leaves home, and wastes everything in reckless living. When he finds himself broken and hungry, he decides to return to his father, hoping only to be treated as a servant. But what happens? While he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion. He ran to him, embraced him, and kissed him. Before the son can even speak, the father is already welcoming him home.

This is God’s love for us. He does not wait for us to be perfect before accepting us. He is always watching, always hoping for our return, ready to embrace us even before we say a word.

But the parable does not end there. There is another son—the older one—who cannot understand this mercy. He has always been obedient, and he resents his father’s generosity toward his sinful brother. How often do we, too, struggle with this? Do we sometimes find it hard to accept God’s mercy when it is given to others? Do we sometimes feel that we have “earned” God’s love more than others?

Jesus leaves the story open-ended. The father pleads with the older son to rejoice, but we do not hear his response. That is because the question is left for us: Will we join in the joy of God’s mercy? Will we allow our hearts to be like His—ready to forgive, ready to welcome, ready to love?

This Lent is our time to return home. Whether we have wandered far like the younger son, or whether we struggle with resentment like the older son, the Father is calling us. He is waiting, arms open, ready to embrace us. Let us not be afraid to come back to Him, to confess our sins, and to rejoice in the love that has no limits. For the Lord is kind and merciful. And He is waiting for us.

Friday of the Second Week of Lent C: Genesis 37:3-4, 12-13a, 17b-28; Psalm 105:16-17, 18-19, 20-21; Matthew 21:33-43, 45-46

Today’s readings reveal a powerful theme: God can take human rejection and transform it into a path of salvation. We see this in the story of Joseph, in the psalm’s reflection on his life, and most fully in Jesus’ parable of the vineyard. These stories invite us to trust that even when we face rejection, suffering, or injustice, God is still at work, bringing about His greater plan.

In the first reading, we hear about Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob. His father’s special love for him makes his brothers jealous, and their jealousy turns into hatred. When they see him coming, they conspire against him, throw him into a cistern, and sell him into slavery. Joseph is betrayed by his own family, stripped of his dignity, and taken far from home. It seems like a tragic end. But as we know, this is just the beginning of God’s plan. Joseph will later rise to power in Egypt and become the very one who saves his family in a time of famine. What his brothers meant for evil, God used for good.

The psalm reminds us that Joseph’s suffering was not meaningless. God had sent a man before them—Joseph, sold as a slave. His trials were part of God’s providence, preparing him for his mission. Even when he was bound in chains, God’s plan was unfolding. And in the end, Joseph is exalted—he is freed, made lord of Pharaoh’s household, and becomes the instrument of salvation for his people.

This theme of rejection leading to redemption is even clearer in the Gospel. Jesus tells the parable of the vineyard owner who sends his servants—and finally his son—to collect the harvest. But instead of listening, the tenants reject and kill them. Jesus is speaking about Himself. Like Joseph, He is the beloved Son, sent by the Father. But instead of being welcomed, He is rejected. Instead of being honored, He will be killed. And yet, just like with Joseph, this rejection will lead to something greater. His death will become the source of salvation for the whole world.

Jesus sums it up with the words of Scripture: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. What seems like a failure, what looks like defeat, is actually the foundation of God’s kingdom.

This is the mystery of our faith. God does not prevent suffering, but He redeems it. He takes rejection and turns it into salvation. He takes what is broken and makes it new. And He invites us to trust in Him, even when we do not understand.

Perhaps we, too, have experienced rejection, betrayal, or suffering. Perhaps we feel like Joseph in the pit, wondering why God has allowed certain struggles in our lives. But today’s readings remind us: God is not absent. His plan is still at work. The cross was not the end for Jesus, and neither are our trials the end for us. If we remain faithful, if we trust in God’s providence, He will bring good even from our suffering.

So, as we continue this Lenten journey, let us not be discouraged. Let us remember that the rejected stone became the cornerstone, that Joseph’s betrayal led to salvation, and that our trials, too, can be transformed by the hands of God.

Thursday of the Second Week of Lent C: Jeremiah 17:5-10; Psalm 1:1-2, 3, 4, 6; Luke 16:19-31

Today’s readings present us with a strong contrast between two ways of living: one that leads to life and blessing, and another that leads to destruction. They invite us to examine our hearts and ask: Where do I place my trust? What kind of life am I building?

Jeremiah gives us a powerful image: Cursed is the one who trusts in human strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord. He is like a barren bush in the desert, lifeless and dry. But then he presents the opposite: Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose hope is in Him. He is like a tree planted by the water, whose leaves remain green even in times of drought. The message is clear—when we put our trust in worldly things, we become spiritually dry, unable to bear fruit. But when we root ourselves in God, we find true life, even in difficult times.

The psalm reinforces this teaching: Blessed is the one who delights in the law of the Lord. Such a person is like a tree planted by streams of water, always fruitful and full of life. Meanwhile, the wicked are like chaff—dry, weightless, easily blown away. The difference is striking. Those who trust in God are firmly rooted, while those who rely only on themselves eventually fade away.

Jesus brings this lesson to life in the Gospel with the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man enjoys every comfort in this world but is blind to the suffering of the poor man at his gate. Lazarus, covered in sores, longed for even a scrap from the rich man’s table, but was ignored. When both men die, the contrast is reversed—Lazarus is comforted in the embrace of Abraham, while the rich man suffers in torment.

This parable is not just about wealth and poverty. It is about the hardness of heart that comes when we trust in ourselves instead of in God. The rich man was not condemned for being rich, but for his indifference. He had everything he needed to help Lazarus, but he ignored him. His heart had become like the barren bush in the desert—dry, lifeless, cut off from the waters of mercy.

Lent is a time to soften our hearts, to open our eyes to the suffering around us. It is a time to ask: Am I like the rich man, comfortable but blind? Or am I rooted in God, bearing the fruits of love and compassion? Jesus warns us not to wait until it is too late. The rich man begged for his brothers to be warned, but Abraham’s response is clear: They have Moses and the prophets. If they will not listen to them, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.

And indeed, someone has risen from the dead—Jesus Himself. He speaks to us today, calling us to conversion. Let us not harden our hearts. Instead, let us trust in the Lord, be generous in love, and seek to be like that tree planted by living waters, bearing good fruit for eternal life.

Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent C: Jeremiah 18:18-20; Psalm 31:5-6, 14, 15-16; Matthew 20:17-28

Today, we reflect on the Lenten liturgical readings for our meditation, even though the Solemnity of St. Joseph has its own distinct readings. Today’s readings challenge us to reflect on what it truly means to be great in the eyes of God. The world often tells us that greatness is about power, influence, and success. But Jesus turns this idea upside down. True greatness, He tells us, is found in humility, in service, and in trustful surrender to God’s will.

In the first reading, we hear the prophet Jeremiah facing opposition. His enemies plot against him, even though he has spoken only truth and prayed for them. It is a painful moment for him, and we can almost hear his cry of frustration: Why do they repay me with evil when I have tried to do good? This is a familiar experience for anyone who has ever tried to live according to God’s ways. Doing what is right does not always make life easier. Sometimes, it even invites suffering.

The psalm echoes this theme. It is a cry of trust in the midst of danger: Rescue me, Lord, from the hands of my enemies! The psalmist acknowledges the hardship but does not give in to despair. Instead, he places his life in God’s hands, knowing that only He can bring salvation.

And then we come to the Gospel, where Jesus, for the third time, tells His disciples about His coming suffering. He speaks plainly: He will be mocked, condemned, and crucified—but on the third day, He will rise. Right after this, James and John, through their mother, ask for places of honor in His kingdom. They are thinking in terms of power and prestige. But Jesus responds with a different vision of greatness: Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant.

This is the heart of today’s message. Jesus is inviting us to a new way of thinking. True greatness is not found in status or privilege, but in self-giving love. He Himself is the example—He came not to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.

Like Jeremiah, we may face opposition when we live according to God’s ways. Like the psalmist, we may feel surrounded by difficulties. But Jesus reminds us that our path to greatness is not through power, but through service, through loving even when it is difficult, through giving ourselves for others.

As we continue our Lenten journey, let us ask for the grace to follow Jesus on this path. May we trust in God in moments of struggle, serve others with humility, and seek not to be honored, but to love as Christ has loved us.

Monday of the Second Week of Lent C: Daniel 9:4b-10; Psalm 79:8, 9, 11, 13; Luke 6:36-38

Today, the Word of God invites us to reflect on something that is at the very heart of our faith—mercy. We hear in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus telling us, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.” This is not just a suggestion; it is a call to imitate God Himself.

But what does it mean to be merciful? Often, we think of mercy as simply forgiving those who wrong us. But Jesus challenges us to go even further. He tells us, “Stop judging, and you will not be judged. Stop condemning, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” This is a radical way of living. It means looking at others not with eyes of judgment but with eyes of love. It means letting go of resentment, bitterness, and the need for revenge.

And let’s be honest—it’s not always easy. When someone hurts us, our natural reaction is to hold on to that pain, to make them “pay” in some way. But Jesus shows us a different path. He teaches us that mercy is not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength. When we choose mercy, we choose to reflect the very heart of God.

This is what we see in the first reading from the book of Daniel. The prophet acknowledges the sins of the people, their unfaithfulness, their rebellion against God. And yet, he turns to the Lord and prays, “We have sinned, we have done wrong. But Yours, O Lord, is compassion and forgiveness.” God is always ready to forgive, always ready to show mercy. And He asks us to do the same.

Jesus gives us a powerful image in today’s Gospel: “Give, and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap.” This is how God gives—abundantly, generously, without holding back. And this is how we are called to give—not just our material goods, but our love, our patience, our understanding, and yes, our mercy.

So today, as we continue our Lenten journey, let’s take these words to heart. Let’s ask ourselves: Is there someone I need to forgive? Is there someone I have judged harshly? How can I be more merciful, just as my Father is merciful?

May God give us the grace to live this mercy every day, so that we may truly reflect His love to the world.

Saturday of the First Week of Lent: Deuteronomy 26:16-19; Psalm 119:1-2, 4-5, 7-8; Matthew 5:43-48

Today, we hear a beautiful reminder in the Scriptures: “Blessed are those who follow the law of the Lord.” Moses speaks to the people, urging them to remain faithful to God’s commandments. He tells them that if they do so, God will lift them up, making them a light for all nations, an example for the world.

This idea of being a model is taken even further by Jesus in the Gospel. He presents a law that goes beyond simple justice—a law of love and mercy. He tells us, “Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” This is not an easy command. It challenges our natural instincts. When we are wronged, our first reaction is often to seek revenge or at least to hold resentment in our hearts. But Jesus is calling us to something greater.

He asks, “If you only love those who love you, what merit is there in that? Even sinners do the same.” In other words, if we only extend kindness to those who are good to us, how are we any different from the rest of the world? As followers of Christ, we are called to imitate God, our Father, who is merciful to both the good and the bad.

This is a difficult teaching, but it is also a powerful one. Jesus not only preached it—He lived it. And so did the early Christians. When they were persecuted, they did not retaliate with violence or hatred. Instead, they prayed for their oppressors. Many of them suffered and died under brutal persecution, yet they continued to forgive. And what happened? Their love transformed the world. Pagan Rome, the empire that once sought to destroy them, eventually became a Christian empire. Not through war or power, but through the radical love of Christ’s followers.

If we truly want to change the world, if we want to overcome darkness and evil, we must love as God loves. This is not weakness—it is the greatest strength. Love has the power to break the cycle of hatred, to soften even the hardest hearts.

So today, let us ask for the grace to take this difficult but life-giving step. Let us pray for those who have hurt us. Let us ask God to transform our hearts so that we may love not just those who love us, but also those who oppose us. In doing so, we will be true children of our Father in heaven, bringing His light into the world.

Friday of the First Week of Lent
Ezekiel 18:21-28; Psalm 130; Matthew 5:20-26

My dear brothers and sisters, have you ever had an argument with someone and then gone to pray, but deep down, something felt off? You tried to focus on God, but that lingering hurt, that unresolved conflict, kept creeping back into your thoughts. Jesus speaks directly to this today in the Gospel. He tells us, if you are bringing your gift to the altar and remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there. First, go and be reconciled, then come and offer your gift.

This is a radical command. Jesus is saying that before we stand before God in prayer, before we approach Him in worship, we must first make things right with one another. How often do we think about that? We might be faithful in our prayers, we might fast, we might even be generous in our charity—but if our hearts are holding onto resentment, anger, or broken relationships, something is missing.

Lent is a time for deep reflection, a season to let go of whatever weighs us down. And one of the heaviest burdens we can carry is the burden of unforgiveness. Perhaps there is someone in your life you need to forgive. Maybe there is someone who has hurt you, or someone you have wronged, and it feels easier to ignore it rather than face it. But Jesus does not give us the option to ignore. He calls us to act now.

The first reading from Ezekiel reminds us that change is always possible. If the wicked turn away from their sins, they will find life. But if the righteous turn from goodness and do evil, they will be judged. In other words, our past does not define us—our choices today do. God does not hold grudges; He does not keep a record of our wrongs when we truly repent. And if that is how He treats us, then how can we refuse to do the same for others?

Psalm 130 asks, “Lord, if you mark our iniquities, who can stand?” None of us are perfect. We have all failed in different ways. Yet God’s mercy is greater than our sins, and He calls us to show that same mercy to one another.

So today, Jesus is asking us: Who do you need to be reconciled with? Who in your life is waiting for a phone call, a message, or even just a simple word of peace? Perhaps as part of your Lenten sacrifice, you can offer up your fasting for the healing of a broken relationship. Take the first step. It may not be easy, but it is necessary.

God does not want our prayers and sacrifices if our hearts are hardened toward others. This Lent, let us not only turn to God for mercy but also become instruments of mercy ourselves. Let us build bridges where there were once walls, so that when we come before the Lord, we do so with hearts made pure by love and forgiveness.

The Power of Persevering Prayer

Thursday of the First Week of Lent C

Esther 12, 14-16, 23-25; Psalm 138:1-2ab, 2cde-3, 7c-8; Matthew 7:7-12

Today, the Word of God invites us to reflect on the power of prayer. We begin with the story of Queen Esther, a woman caught in a desperate situation. Her people, the Israelites, faced annihilation, and she, though queen, was powerless in human terms. But she turned to the one source of true power—God. She did not rely on her position or influence; instead, she fasted, prayed, and called on her people to do the same. And what happened? God answered her plea and saved His people.

This is not just an ancient story—it is a lesson for every age, including ours. Throughout history, whenever the Church has faced trials, prayer has been the weapon that turned the tide. Whenever believers have found themselves lost, uncertain, or afraid, prayer has been their anchor. It was true for Esther, and it is true for us.

The Psalm today continues this theme. The psalmist proclaims: “On the day I called, you answered me; you increased the strength of my soul.” He does not speak of a distant, indifferent God, but a God who listens, who responds, who strengthens. This is why we should always have a heart full of thanksgiving. How many times have we turned to God in our struggles, and He has answered? Even when the answer was not what we expected, He was always there.

Then, in the Gospel, Jesus Himself teaches us how to pray: “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.” Notice how Jesus doesn’t just tell us to pray once and be done with it. He speaks of persistence. Asking is the first step, but then we must go further—we must seek. And even beyond that, we must knock, keep knocking until the door is opened. This is not about wearing God down, but about deepening our trust in Him.

To illustrate this, Jesus gives us a simple but profound example. A child asks his father for food. What kind of father would give his son a stone instead of bread? Or a snake instead of fish? If even we, flawed as we are, know how to care for our children, how much more will our heavenly Father give us what we need? This changes how we see prayer. We are not calling out to an impersonal force or a distant ruler—we are speaking to our Father, who loves us. And that should give us confidence.

Today, let us renew our trust in God. Let us not grow weary in prayer but approach Him with the boldness of children who know they are loved. Let us ask, seek, and knock—not because we demand things from God, but because we trust that He, in His wisdom, will always give us what we truly need. And in all things, let us give thanks, for our God is a Father who listens and answers.