All 4 volumes are available in paperback & eBook format!
Amazon – Google Play – iTunes – Barnes and Noble – and more!
Receiving and Expressing Love
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
Jesus said to his apostles: “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; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” Matthew 10:37–38
When a scribe approached Jesus and asked Him which of the commandments was the greatest, He replied: “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:30–31).
Today’s Gospel offers a similar teaching: We must love God above all else—even more than father, mother, son, or daughter. By contrasting love for God with love for family, Jesus is not diminishing familial affection; rather, He is revealing that the only way to truly love others is by loving God first.
Saint Thomas Aquinas teaches: “God must be loved above all things and before all others out of charity, for He is loved as the source of happiness, whereas our neighbor is loved as one who shares in that happiness along with us” (Summa Theologiae II-II, Q.26, A.2). In other words, God must be loved first because He is the ultimate cause and source of beatitude—the only true happiness. Though we are called to love our families and our neighbors, Christian charity dictates that we love them in relation to God—as fellow recipients of divine happiness.
One reason this Gospel is challenging is that our natural affections, though good, must be transformed by divine charity. It is natural to love our parents and children—God designed us with these affections. Even animals instinctively care for their offspring. But Jesus calls us to something higher: a love that is perfected by divine charity, transcending mere emotional attachment or duty. His teaching does not negate natural love; rather, it purifies, elevates, and directs it toward the highest good—God Himself.
When Jesus speaks of loving “father or mother” or “son or daughter” more than Him, He is addressing the inner conflict we sometimes experience in our emotions. When natural affection is not transformed by spiritual charity, the love we offer another can do more harm than good. Disordered affection replaces the ultimate good—God—with the lesser good of emotional attachment and human consolation. The real danger arises when our loved ones stray from God’s will, and we, out of misguided affection, affirm them in their error, thereby confirming them in a state lacking true beatitude.
The foundation of true love is this: God alone is the source of perfect happiness, for us and for our loved ones. Our belief in God transforms the way we love others. No longer do we merely seek their earthly comfort or emotional well-being; rather, we direct them to the eternal Good—God Himself—who alone fulfills every longing.
When we love God first, all our relationships are purified. Instead of loving others with human affection alone, we love them with the very love of God, seeking their ultimate good: eternal life in Him. This purified love does not exclude human affection; rather, it elevates and directs it, ensuring that our love is not merely sentimental but truly transformative through divine charity.
Reflect today on those closest to you—those whom God calls you to love with the highest form of love. Are your affections rightly ordered, or do they sometimes compete with the charity God desires to instill in you? If so, turn your heart to God. Seek to love Him above all else. Let Him become the object of your deepest love and desire. When God is first, His love will transform you from within, enabling you to love others not just with natural affection, but with the very love of Christ, leading them to the eternal joy of union with Him.
Lord of perfect charity, Your love is pure, holy, and beyond all understanding—so vast, so encompassing, that I will never fathom its depths. Draw me into this love, O Lord, that I may love You above all things. From that love, let the charity of Your Sacred Heart flow through me to others, so that in loving them, I love You. Jesus, I trust in You.
The Compassion that Heals
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year B)
There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” Mark 5:25–28
The woman who had suffered from hemorrhages for twelve years was considered ritually unclean in Jewish society. Her physical affliction also isolated her socially and religiously (cf. Leviticus 15:25–27). She was forbidden to touch others, and anyone she came into contact with was also rendered unclean, deepening her isolation from both community life and temple worship.
To grasp the lesson of this Gospel, we must first recognize the depth of her suffering. Her affliction symbolizes the broader plight of fallen humanity—wounded by sin and unable to find true healing through human means alone. Suffering should awaken empathy within us, calling us to recognize it in others and to share in it with compassion. Some suffer through no fault of their own, as she did, while others experience suffering caused by sin. Though sin must be rebuked, the sinner must be loved and approached with mercy and compassion. Our Lord views each of us with this same openness.
Jesus is the perfect model of this compassion. He took on human nature to walk among us and to fully share in our suffering, ultimately embracing it on the Cross. Throughout the Gospels, we see Him moved by deep empathy. When large crowds gathered around Him, “his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 9:36). His ministry was not driven by self-interest but by a heart that genuinely sought the healing of souls.
Today, many endure interior suffering while outwardly appearing at peace. Some wear masks of composure, concealing wounds of loneliness and isolation. Just as Jesus saw beyond the surface of the woman’s affliction, He sees the hidden struggles of every soul, longing to bring true healing. He calls us to do the same.
The Gospel gives us a rare glimpse into her inner thoughts: “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” This points to the depth of her faith—humble, hidden, yet confident in Christ’s power. Unlike the crowds who pressed upon Jesus without true faith, she reached out with trust in the midst of them, believing that even the slightest contact with Him was enough. She beautifully manifested the hope we need during the afflictions we suffer.
We must see ourselves in this woman and imitate her. Each of us experiences isolation, whether from sin, suffering, or interior struggles. God, in His wisdom, permitted this woman’s long affliction so that her story might teach us. Even those admired by others can carry unseen burdens. In such moments, we may be tempted to withdraw into ourselves, but God calls us instead to reach out to Him for freedom.
Reflect today on the trust this woman displayed. She did not allow suffering to turn into despair, nor did she resign herself to isolation. Instead, she sought Jesus with unwavering faith, convinced that even the briefest contact with Him could restore her. Her encounter with Christ teaches us that healing begins when we step forward in faith, reaching beyond fears and doubts to embrace His mercy. Her example should encourage us to press through the crowds of distractions and uncertainties in our lives, knowing that Christ alone offers true restoration. Resolve to approach Him not only with hope for healing, but with the certainty that His compassion never fails. His love—once embraced—transforms suffering into the very means by which we draw closer to Him.
Most compassionate and merciful Lord, when You look upon me in my suffering, Your heart is moved with pity. You see my every sorrow, and in Your perfect love, You desire to heal and restore me to Your grace. May I always turn to You with unwavering trust, knowing that Your love never fails. Like the woman in the Gospel, I reach out to You, O Lord, longing for Your healing touch. Jesus, I trust in You.
Tempering Excessive Emotion
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)
When the days for his being taken up were fulfilled, he resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem, and he sent messengers ahead of him. On the way they entered a Samaritan village to prepare for his reception there, but they would not welcome him because the destination of his journey was Jerusalem. When the disciples James and John saw this they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?” Jesus turned and rebuked them, and they journeyed to another village. Luke 9:51–56
James and John were brothers. Prior to becoming Apostles, they were fishermen with their father Zebedee. They were also friends of brothers Peter and Andrew, who were fellow fishermen and eventually became Apostles as well. Their lives had dramatically changed from the moment Jesus called them. Though they were faithful Jews, they were not yet saints. They still had much to learn, needing spiritual growth and conversion.
Today’s Gospel presents us with a pivotal moment in the lives of James and John. They were filled with excitement that the long-awaited Messiah had finally arrived and that He had chosen them as His Apostles. What an honor and privilege! Their enthusiasm, however, had not yet been fully transformed by grace, so they reacted to rejection with anger and judgment rather than with mercy.
The Samaritans and Jews had deep-seated animosity toward each other. The Samaritans accepted only the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible) and rejected worship in Jerusalem, preferring Mount Gerizim instead. This theological divide fueled centuries of hostility. When Jesus and His disciples passed through a Samaritan town, they encountered this division firsthand. Because Jesus was journeying to Jerusalem, the Samaritans refused to welcome Him. This rejection stung James and John, reinforcing their inherited bias. How dare the Samaritans reject the promised Messiah! In response, they wanted to call down fire from Heaven upon them, much like the prophet Elijah had done to the messengers of King Ahaziah (cf. 2 Kings 1:10-12). But Jesus quickly rebuked them, teaching them that His mission was not one of vengeance, but of mercy and redemption.
This moment marks an important lesson for all disciples. Zeal for righteousness is good, but it must be tempered by divine love. James and John, in their youthful fervor, misunderstood the nature of Jesus’ kingship. He had come not to destroy His enemies but to win them through patience and sacrifice. His rebuke was not a rejection of justice but an invitation to a higher way—one that seeks conversion rather than destruction. Though the Samaritans were wrong for rejecting Jesus, our Lord remained hopeful they would later convert, and some of them did.
In our own lives, especially at the beginning of our spiritual journey, we often react impulsively when faced with rejection or opposition. Anger easily overtakes patience, and we seek retribution rather than reconciliation. The lesson that James and John learned that day teaches us that rejection from others must not result in our rejection of them. We are called to rise above those emotional temptations and seek the greater good that comes only through virtue.
The journey to holiness is one of conversion; tempering excessive emotion is part of that transformation. This is challenging to do because God’s mercy calls us to rise far above our natural and disordered sensibilities. It is easy to react with anger to rejection, to issue rebukes in the face of injustice. Allowing grace to transform our natures takes time, prayer, and patience.
Reflect today on those whom you tend to criticize and rebuke. Try to see yourself in James and John. When you are rejected or mistreated, how do you respond? Do you demand punishment? Do you seek strict justice? If so, allow Jesus to lovingly rebuke you as He did James and John. Receive that rebuke and learn from it, allowing His mercy to shape your heart and lead you to a more perfect love.
My merciful Lord, by accepting rejection with dignity, kindness, and forgiveness, You removed its sting and invited the Samaritans to conversion. When I am wronged, I often struggle to rise above my wounded pride. Grant me Your Heart of mercy, that I may respond with patience and love, always hopeful that all people will come to Your banquet of grace. Jesus, I trust in You.
The Demands of Discipleship
Monday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
When Jesus saw a crowd around him, he gave orders to cross to the other shore. A scribe approached and said to him, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus answered him, “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” Matthew 8:18–20
Jesus was in Capernaum, on the north side of the Sea of Galilee. While there, He cured Simon’s mother-in-law and many others, generating great excitement. One might expect Him to remain and attend to the crowd, yet He “gave orders to cross to the other shore.”
Though Jesus ministered to large crowds, His mission was not to gain popularity. He came to fulfill the Father’s will by inaugurating the Kingdom of God through His preaching and ultimately by laying down His life on the Cross.
The crowd’s excitement that reveals Jesus’ popularity also hinders His mission. Sometimes, excitement blinds us to the deeper reality of faith, leading us to follow Christ—or turn away—for the wrong reasons. Jesus sought disciples who professed faith in Him as the Messiah, not those drawn by spectacle. Consequently, He left them for a time.
As He was departing, a scribe said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” The disciples might have thought, “Good! Jesus won over a scribe!” But our Lord responded differently: “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”
This was not a criticism but a clarification. If the scribe were to truly follow Jesus, he needed to understand the cost of discipleship. Excitement fades. Good intentions waver. But faith rooted in the Cross endures.
Jesus’ response reveals the radical nature of discipleship—detachment from worldly security, leaving behind comfort and embracing poverty. His reference to the “Son of Man” is significant. He identifies Himself as the One to whom all dominion and glory belong (Daniel 7:13-14), yet His mission requires complete poverty and rejection. If the scribe wished to follow Him, he needed to embrace this paradox: To gain all, one must give up all.
Perhaps the scribe expected that following Jesus would bring earthly reward, stability, or even status among his peers. But Christ’s response shatters that illusion. True discipleship involves embracing earthly insecurity and hardship. In His wisdom, Jesus may have perceived the scribe’s misguided expectations and, out of charity, spoke clearly about the demands of following Him.
If the scribe’s statement—“I will follow you wherever you go”—resonates within us, we, too, must be ready to follow our Lord without reservation, shedding every obstacle that hinders us. The real question is whether we are truly willing to follow Jesus “wherever” He leads.
Often, we approach discipleship with unspoken conditions, willing to follow Christ only when it aligns with our expectations of comfort, success, or security. But Jesus calls us beyond that to embrace a penitential life, live simply, sacrifice our ambitions and preferences, deny inordinate attachments, and lay down our lives for others. Jesus, the rejected one and suffering servant, gave everything for our salvation. Following Him means embracing that same path of sacrifice.
Reflect today on the scribe’s words: “I will follow you wherever you go.” Make that your prayer. Ask yourself: Is my resolve deep enough to do whatever God asks? Trust that radical discipleship is worth it. Do not be afraid to follow Christ without conditions, for in losing everything for His sake, you will gain everything in Him. A full share in His Passion leads to eternal glory.
Most radical Lord, You lived a life of perfect sacrifice, surrendering every earthly comfort and honor to fulfill Your Father’s will. Grant me the grace to understand the true demands of discipleship. I resolve to follow You wherever You lead, knowing that the path always leads to Your Cross. There, in union with You, I offer my life for others, trusting that in losing all for Your sake, I will gain everything in You. Jesus, I trust in You.
Rejecting the Storm of Vengeance
Tuesday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
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; but he was asleep. They came and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” 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. Matthew 8:23–26
While we should understand Jesus’ teachings and actions in a literal sense, the Early Church Fathers also point to a deeper, symbolic meaning—what is known as the Spiritual Sense of Scripture. As the inspired Word of God, the Gospels contain limitless depth and wisdom. The message found in Jesus’ words and actions can be applied to any part of our lives and answer any questions we struggle with.
One such question is how we deal with the storms of life. Some storms come upon us externally, through illness, persecution, or unforeseen trials. When a storm sets in, we often react with fear and anxiety. When the storm is of our own making, such as from sin, the trial is often more severe. Though fear and anxiety are often the ill effects of life’s storms, another more deadly fruit can also arise: the anger that leads to vengeance.
In his preaching on this passage, Saint Augustine offers such an insight: “You have heard an insult—it is the wind; you feel anger—it is the wave. When the wind blows and the waves rise, the ship is in danger; so too, when insults stir your heart, your soul is tossed about and put at risk” (Sermon 63 on the New Testament, 2).
Because we live and interact with sinful people every day, we will inevitably experience the “wind” of an insult which can lead to the “wave” of angry feelings. When that happens, the question is: What am I going to do with that angry feeling? Augustine warns that insults, which stir up anger, pose a real spiritual danger. He continues: “If, upon hearing an insult, you desire vengeance, the storm swells within you. And behold, if you take vengeance, you may think you have triumphed—but in rejoicing over another’s harm, you have suffered shipwreck yourself.”
At some point, we have all allowed a storm to swell within us by seeking vengeance, which inevitably leads to our downfall. When anger gives way to irrational arguments, judgment, condemnation, or passive aggression—such as the “silent treatment”—our “boat” begins to sink.
Just as the wind and waves battered the Apostles, leading them to fear, so too does anger batter us, driving us toward vengeance and making things worse. In such moments, there is only one remedy: to cry out with the Apostles, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!”
What a perfect prayer in the midst of a trial that is turning into a storm! Had the Apostles ignored the presence of the Son of God—who was with them, asleep, awaiting their call—the storm would have continued, and they might have been shipwrecked. But they cried out, seeing that things were getting out of control.
When Jesus woke up, He first gently rebuked them, saying, “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith?” Applying this to our analogy of anger and vengeance, we can hear our Lord asking, “Why did you allow anger to take hold of you and swell into a storm?” Though Jesus, in His mercy, can calm the storm caused by our sin, a deep and abiding faith helps us to forgive the initial insult before it takes root, preventing it from growing into anger and vengeance.
Reflect today on any initial “wind” that tempts you toward anger. Choose to forgive and offer mercy in return. If a storm is already brewing in your heart, cry out to Jesus as the Apostles did. Though at times it might seem as if our Lord is asleep, He is always with you. Reject fear and anger the moment they begin to stir; but if they do arise, call upon Him in faith: “Lord, save me! I am perishing!” He will calm the storm.
My sleeping Lord, I know that You are always with me, calling me to faith and obedience to Your Word. Strengthen me in moments of temptation, that I may remain faithful and choose mercy over vengeance. When storms arise from my sin, forgive me, Lord, and calm the tempest within, healing the wounds caused by my lack of faith. Jesus, I trust in You.
Being Set Free!
Wednesday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
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. They cried out, “What have you to do with us, Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the appointed time?” Matthew 8:28–29
After delivering His Sermon on the Mount and performing many miracles among His own people, Jesus intentionally journeys across the Sea of Galilee into Gentile territory—the region of the Gadarenes, near Gadara, a town within the pagan Decapolis. His choice underscores His mission to extend salvation beyond Israel.
The location where Jesus and His disciples arrived was no accident. It was a desolate area filled with tombs, symbols of death, impurity, and spiritual desolation. According to Jewish law, contact with graves rendered one ritually unclean (cf. Numbers 19:16). Spiritually, these tombs vividly illustrate the isolation, emptiness, and lifelessness that sin imposes upon the human soul.
The note that the demoniacs “were so savage that no one could travel by that road” further reveals the effects of grave sin. Evil seeks dominance and destruction; it isolates, destroys relationships, and makes peaceful coexistence impossible. This passage reflects the devastating consequences of allowing evil to reign unchecked within one’s soul: It becomes uncontrollable, violent, and destructive. Evil never leads to peace, but rather to chaos, isolation, and fear.
By entering into this territory, our Lord reveals His willingness to enter the isolation and desolation we all experience due to sin and every evil attack. He comes to us precisely when we are at our worst, most vulnerable, to set us free from the grip of the evil one and from all of his destructive works.
When these two men see Jesus, the demons possessing them immediately recognize Him as the Son of God and acknowledge His authority over them. Their recognition raises an important spiritual question for each of us: Do I also recognize Christ’s presence in my life? Am I aware of His divine authority over sin and evil, and do I trust in His desire and power to set me free?
When the demons ask Jesus, “Have you come here to torment us before the appointed time?”, they reveal their full knowledge of their ultimate fate: eternal damnation. They understood this clearly because, even after their fall, demons retain their natural angelic powers. Among these powers is their exceptional intelligence and their capacity to tempt humans by subtly suggesting deceptive thoughts, drawing us persistently away from God’s truth.
Because demons know their eternal fate with clarity, they seek to use their intellect and suggestive powers to lead us into the very despair they themselves experience. They have no hope of eternal life. Out of their hatred for God and humanity, they attempt to conform us to their hopelessness, convincing us that we cannot escape sin, that hope is lost, and that we are doomed to misery.
Only our Lord can shatter these demonic lies. Only Christ can break the chains of despair, isolation, and sin. By setting these two demoniacs free, Jesus illustrates His deep longing to do the same for us. By demonstrating His authority over the most severe effects of evil, Jesus reveals His absolute authority over every evil we encounter: every sin, temptation, oppressive thought, confusion, and especially despair.
Reflect today on Jesus’ choice to cross the Sea of Galilee for the sole purpose of setting these two demoniacs free from their oppression. Our Lord journeys to you with the same resolve. What is it that oppresses you? What thoughts tempt you to fear or despair? What sins do you habitually struggle with? Jesus wants to enter into every form of isolation and desolation you experience. Look for Him, recognize Him when He comes, profess your faith in His authority, and let Him fulfill His deepest desire by setting you free.
Most powerful Lord, You have all authority over evil. In my weakness, I cry out to You and plead for Your mercy. Please set me free, O Lord, and protect me from the evil one. Forgive my sins and restore me to deeper communion with You and all Your children. Jesus, I trust in You.
Out of the Ordinary
Thursday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
After entering a boat, Jesus made the crossing, and came into his own town. 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.” Matthew 9:1–2
After making a quick trip across the Sea of Galilee to deliver two men from demonic possession, Jesus and the disciples return to Jesus’ “own town,” likely Capernaum, the fishing village and hometown of Peter, Andrew, James and John, and probably Matthew, whom Jesus had not yet called to be an Apostle.
Though the Gospels say little about Jesus’ ordinary daily life in Capernaum, it is clear that this small town served as a center for His Galilean ministry, becoming the crossroads where ordinary human lives intersected with extraordinary divine grace. Few in Capernaum could have realized that their village would become the center for the unfolding of God’s promise of salvation, from which the teachings of the Messiah would go forth to the world.
Though Jesus’ act of forgiving the paralytic’s sins in today’s Gospel, followed by his miraculous healing, holds great significance, equally important is the setting in which these actions took place. Capernaum, in many ways, represents our hometowns, homes, daily lives, occupations, communities, and families. The Son of God’s entrance into our world did not take place in a visibly magnificent way; it was humble, hidden, and ordinary. Beginning in Bethlehem, Jesus’ birth took place within a dwelling for animals, and He was laid in a feeding trough. Shortly afterward, He narrowly escaped death from Herod, becoming a refugee in Egypt as an infant. Later, Jesus was raised in Nazareth—a small town viewed as insignificant by the wider Judean and Galilean communities. He learned carpentry from Joseph, made pilgrimages to Jerusalem for the Jewish feasts, and lived like any other child and young man.
Even after Jesus began His public ministry, He continued to live a humble and simple life. He was a wandering preacher, traveling on foot through many towns and villages with a band of disciples. He relied on providence for food and shelter, owned little Himself, and related compassionately with people of every status and background.
To the ordinary eye, Jesus was an ordinary man. To the eyes of the Father, He was the Divine Son, cloaked in humility, whose true glory remained hidden from many eyes.
Jesus’ humble, simple, and ordinary life was significant. The Father could have sent His Son into royal splendor and worldly power, establishing Him as an earthly king admired by all. Yet, He chose humility because by embracing the ordinariness of daily life, Jesus sanctified human existence, transforming everyday tasks and encounters into pathways toward union with Him. When we engage in ordinary things in union with Jesus’ life—with His virtue, diligence, dedication, care, and generosity—our daily activities become infused with extraordinary grace.
By becoming the crossroads where ordinary human lives intersect with extraordinary divine grace, we are invited to see every ordinary part of our lives in the same way the people of Capernaum encountered Jesus’ extraordinary grace. Jesus is waiting for us around every corner, in every conversation, duty, and activity. Like in Capernaum, He remains cloaked in humility, often veiled from immediate recognition. With faith, we must discern Him in the ordinary, recognize His humble presence, love Him, and follow Him.
Reflect today on the people of Capernaum and see yourself among them. How would you have reacted to someone who seemed so ordinary yet taught, forgave, and healed with such grace? That same Lord is present all around us in our daily lives, no matter how ordinary they might appear. Look for Him, invite Him into your “town,” and allow Him to sanctify your daily work, drawing you out of the ordinary into the extraordinary life of grace.
My hidden Lord, You are present within me and all around me, yet often I fail to perceive Your humble presence in the ordinary circumstances of my daily life. Grant me the eyes of faith to recognize You, a heart eager to love You, and the strength to follow You faithfully, so that all I do may be infused with Your grace and dedicated to Your eternal glory. Jesus, I trust in You.
Unexpected Followers
Friday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
As Jesus passed by, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post. He said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him. Matthew 9:9
As a tax collector, Matthew was despised by much of Jewish society. He was regarded as a traitor and sinner, aligning himself with the oppressive Roman authorities. Because he was considered unclean, he would have been unwelcome in the local synagogue. Though Matthew was likely wealthy due to the lucrative nature of tax collection, neither his wealth nor Roman privileges could satisfy him. Had they fulfilled him, he would never have immediately abandoned everything at Jesus’ simple command: “Follow me.”
While little else is known about Matthew’s personal life and background, we do know that he represents anyone who prioritizes wealth and status above family and faith. Those who seek fulfillment primarily in material wealth and worldly positions inevitably experience loneliness and isolation—an inescapable truth of the human condition.
When Jesus encountered Matthew, He perceived his interior brokenness and hidden struggles. Christ saw beyond Matthew’s outward position, fine clothing, and wealth, looking directly into his heart. His two simple words—“Follow me”—pierced Matthew deeply, prompting an immediate and radical response.
After leaving his customs post, Matthew hosted a dinner at his home for Jesus and the other disciples already called. Among them were Peter, Andrew, James, and John—fishermen from Capernaum, the very town where Matthew collected taxes. Although the Gospel is silent about their interactions, it’s reasonable to speculate these disciples were among those shocked by Jesus’ decision to call Matthew and enter his home. Given Capernaum’s small size, Matthew had likely collected taxes from them personally, perhaps creating tension or resentment.
We can learn a great deal from Matthew and from the diverse group of Apostles whom Jesus gathered around Himself. As you reflect on Matthew, consider your own “customs post”—those places in your heart you created by sin and where you feel trapped by the effects of those sins: attachments, fears, and worldly ambitions. Like Matthew, Christ sees clearly beyond superficial worldly standards and directly into your deepest spiritual needs.
We should note that Saint Matthew himself recounts his own conversion within his Gospel. He positions his story among several miracles, shortly after Jesus delivered two men from demonic possession. Saint Thomas Aquinas suggests that this placement implies Matthew considered his own conversion a miraculous event. Indeed, only Matthew could fully appreciate the miraculous transformation within his soul, moving from a life defined by sin, rejection, isolation, and materialism to one of radical conversion and humble service to the Messiah.
As Matthew later reflected on his life and conversion while writing his Gospel, he undoubtedly marveled that the Messiah personally singled him out and made him one of His Apostles. What unexpected and extraordinary grace!
Reflect today on the dinner Matthew hosted immediately after his conversion. At that gathering, Matthew and the other Apostles stand as icons of whom God desires within His Church. God actively seeks out sinners—those separated, despised, rejected, and even those who have oppressed others. He calls into communion people who were previously at odds, urging them toward unity. Achieving this unity requires abandoning biases, bitterness, past grievances, prejudices, and everything that fosters division. God calls many to Himself, uniting them as members of His Body, the Church. See yourself within this community of the redeemed—not among the self-righteous—but within a family bound together by mercy, humility, gratitude, and reconciliation.
Most merciful Lord, You see beyond the surface into the hidden intentions, desires, hurts, and confusion within each of us. Despite the sin and darkness we carry, You long for our freedom, calling gently yet firmly to each soul: “Follow me!” May I, like Saint Matthew, respond to Your call immediately and wholeheartedly. Thank You for drawing not only me but all people to Yourself—even those with whom I struggle or am sometimes at odds. Unite us in Your love, mercy, and peace. Jesus, I trust in You.
The Eternal Marriage to Come
Saturday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
The disciples of John approached Jesus and said, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast much, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus answered them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” Matthew 9:14–15
In Isaiah 54:5 and Hosea 2:16–20, God is portrayed as the divine Bridegroom who espouses Israel. By invoking this imagery, Jesus reveals His divine identity as the Bridegroom who establishes a new relationship between God and His people—a relationship initially characterized by joy, intimacy, and celebration rather than sorrow.
However, Jesus quickly adds a sobering note: “The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” This verse points directly to His coming Passion and death, and to our interior participation in His Passion. It is for those moments that fasting produces a necessary preparation for the sense of loss and sacrifice we are called to make throughout life.
Everyone loves a wedding, especially when celebrated by faith-filled people who anticipate a fruitful life together. As the bride walks down the aisle, her face radiates joy, and the groom waits eagerly at the altar. A holy marriage reflects the ultimate destiny of Christ and His Bride, the Church. Fidelity, unity, fruitfulness, consolation, and permanence are all aspects of the communion we are invited to share with our loving God.
These beautiful aspects of marriage prophetically anticipate what is to come, especially when the Bridegroom returns in glory to usher in the New Heavens and the New Earth. They also represent what we are invited to experience, by grace, during our earthly pilgrimage toward the final union in Heaven—a relationship with God that is grounded in joy, intimacy, and celebration.
During this pilgrimage, the Bridegroom is at times “taken away.” Spiritually speaking, this means that Christ occasionally permits His consoling presence to be withdrawn from the soul. He does this not because He abandons us, but because, in His wisdom, He desires our growth in virtue, faith, and spiritual maturity through trials. Such purification is our participation in Christ’s Passion, which both cleanses and restores the soul, transforming us into the new creation we are called to be by fully dying with and in Christ, so as to share in His new life.
When the sensible consolations of grace diminish, the soul experiences spiritual fasting. Although initially painful, this fasting instills a greater urgency to seek Christ through deeper prayer. If we continually felt God’s consoling presence, our love might become self-centered—loving God only because He comforts us.
In the Old Testament, fasting primarily expressed external repentance. Jesus transforms fasting into a spiritual exercise that strengthens the soul during trials, dryness, and loss. Habitual fasting, such as weekly abstinence, disciplines our interior life, enabling us to love God even when consolation is absent.
When the Bridegroom is “taken away,” our spiritual senses sharpen, and our longing for Christ grows more fervent. Thus, Christ’s apparent absence becomes an opportunity for greater intimacy, guiding us toward a more profound, selfless love—seeking Christ Himself purely for His sake.
Reflect today on how you respond when God seems distant. Do you turn toward Him with increased trust and prayer, or do you withdraw? When God seems distant or when your prayer feels dry, do you recognize the value in those moments? Resolve to engage in forms of physical fasting and other penitential acts as a way of training yourself to enter spiritual fasting with hope and strength. Let spiritual fasting become an act of pure love, preparing your heart for the eternal marriage feast to come.
My Lord and Bridegroom of the Church, You call each of us, Your sons and daughters, into an eternal marriage of pure union and fidelity with You. Form and purify me by allowing me to share in Your Passion, so that my love may become holy, and I may love You with the same love with which You love me. Jesus, I trust in You.
All 4 volumes are available in paperback & eBook format!
Amazon – Google Play – iTunes – Barnes and Noble – and more!
