OT XXIX [C] Ex 17:8-13, II Tm 3:14–4:2, Lk 18:1-8

We live in an age obsessed with speed and immediacy. From cooking meals in minutes to sending messages across the globe instantly, fast is the norm. This has brought many blessings—connections and conveniences once unimaginable. But some things cannot be rushed.

An oak tree does not grow faster today than it did hundreds of years ago. True friendships still require patience and time. Deep human relationships cannot be formed at the push of a button or the swipe of a screen. They require perseverance through joy and setbacks, faithfulness when things are hard, and the willingness to work through difficulties, sometimes with the help of others.

In the first reading, the Israelites on the battlefield are sustained by Moses’ prayerful posture, his hands lifted in a gesture that becomes the iconic “orans” position of prayer. Their victory is not the fruit of strategy, but of fidelity to God through intercession. Note the gesture of Moses - raised hands, the Orans or prayer posture which the priest observed during Mass when he prays on behalf of his people. But those outstretched hands also remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ when He was pinned to the cross. His death would be the final victory God would use to defeat sin and Satan. He raises his hands in surrender to God’s Providence and not as an act of surrender to his enemies. Ultimately, the battle was won not through military strategy but through fidelity and prayer. Our battles, too, are first won in prayer, not by strength or planning alone.

 

In the Gospel, Jesus frames his teaching through a parable about an unjust judge confronted by a persistent widow. But it is not the intention of our Lord to compare the unjust judge to God as an equivalent. Rather, the example is meant to show the vast contrast between a self-serving figure and the All-Merciful, Ever-Compassionate and Just God. If such an unscrupulous man could dispense justice to his petitioners when pressed to do so, should we even doubt that we will have a quick answer from the God who always has our back?
Our Lord then turns the table on us. It is not God who is on trial but us. Prayer is no longer a test of God’s efficacy but rather of our fidelity. Our Lord promises us this: “I promise you, (God) will see justice done to them, and done speedily.” We should never doubt this. Our fidelity will be tested by our perseverance in prayer even when it is difficult to do so.

Pope Francis has said that prayer is the very breath of faith. Without prayer, faith cannot live or grow. Yet prayer does not always come easily to us. One reason is that sometimes our prayers seem unanswered, and we lose heart. Jesus knew this well. That is why he tells today’s parable: to encourage us to persevere in prayer, even when it feels like God is silent.

Prayer is, above all, about relationship—a humble seeking of Christ’s mind and will. Sometimes this pursuit leaves us without words, like the young boy who, unable to recall his prayers, simply recited the alphabet in faith that God would piece together his needs. This story reminds us that seeking God is more about sincerity than eloquence. We bring our imperfect words, asking the Holy Spirit to complete and perfect our offerings. Jesus assures us: If we seek in this humble way, we shall find.

Prayer is not the only weapon we can avail of in spiritual warfare. We have the Word of God. St Paul in his second letter to Timothy which we heard in the second reading tells us that “all scripture is inspired by God and can profitably be used for teaching, for refuting error, for guiding people’s lives and teaching them to be holy.”

Jesus himself modeled this ceaseless prayer. The Gospels record him praying at every opportunity: by day, at dawn, in the evening, and through the night. Prayer was the thread uniting all the episodes of his earthly mission. But Christ also shows us another vital lesson: The discipline of fixed, intentional moments of prayer. Just as he, like all Jewish people of his time, paused daily to pray at dawn, midday, and dusk, so too should we dedicate specific times for God. Jesus joined his community in the synagogue, sanctifying the Sabbath with prayer. In imitation, the Church, from its beginnings, set Sunday as a privileged day for worship, a time to commune with God and each other.

The widow’s justice was rooted in truth. Our prayers too must be grounded in faith and truth. We do not bring empty pleas but the earnest desire for what God wills: love, mercy, justice, and peace. At times, we may feel as weak and powerless as the widow. But just as her persistence made her powerful, our persistent prayer draws us closer to God’s power—the power that transforms hearts, heals wounds, and changes circumstances beyond what we can imagine.

The challenge Jesus sets before us today is simple yet profound: Will we pray always? Will we keep faith, even when the answers seem delayed? In that perseverance, we share in the ongoing work of God’s justice, mercy, and love in our world. May the Lord inspire us to pray always and not lose heart, trusting that God hears every prayer and will bring justice in God’s perfect time.

 

 XXVIII-C: Luke 17:11–19; 2 Kings 5:14–17

Today’s readings bring us two powerful healing stories: one from the Old Testament — Naaman the Syrian, a foreign military commander — and one from the Gospel — ten lepers, including a Samaritan. In both stories, God works a miracle. In both, someone who was seen as an outsider not only receives healing but returns with faith and gratitude. And in both cases, we’re reminded that the greatest miracle is not just physical healing… It’s the transformation of the heart.

In Naaman’s story, he nearly missed healing because he thought the prophet’s instructions unworthy of him. But Naaman’s servants persuade him: if the prophet had asked something difficult, he would have done it—so why not this simple thing? We sometimes resist God’s blessings because they do not match our expectations.

Only when Naaman lays aside pride and receives the prophet’s instruction with humility does healing occur. Healing, here, is tied to obedience and trust, even when the means seem simple or lowly. Afterwards, Naaman’s gratitude is not superficial—he changes allegiance. He declares that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel. Gratitude draws him into covenantal faith.

The Samaritan’s gratitude springs from a profound awareness that he had not earned God’s mercy; as an outcast, he asked and received it freely. His response was to give thanks and praise, recognizing the gift of healing and the generosity of God. Moreover, because Samaritans were not accepted in the Jerusalem Temple or by Jewish priests, the Samaritan leper bypassed religious formalities and came directly to Jesus to express his gratitude—a further sign of his faith and devotion.

Gratitude Requires Recognition: We cannot thank God for what we fail to notice. The nine lepers presumably returned to their families, delighted, yet they did not recognize—or chose not to dwell on the deeper meaning behind their cure. The Samaritan saw beyond the surface. In our own lives, God’s mercies are abundant but often unnoticed: a spared accident, an encouraging word, an opportunity we did not expect. Without awareness, gratitude cannot grow.

Like those two, We All Need Healing. We may not suffer from leprosy like the ten men in the Gospel, or like Naaman. But all of us carry wounds — some are physical, others emotional, spiritual, relational.

• Maybe it’s the wound of anxiety or depression.
• Maybe it's a broken relationship with a family member.
• Maybe it’s grief, or a fear about the future.
• Or maybe it’s a deep feeling of unworthiness — like we’re too far gone for God to care.

Just like the lepers who “stood at a distance,” sometimes we feel like we’re on the outside, too — far from God, far from others, ashamed or forgotten.

But what does the Gospel show us? That Jesus sees. Jesus hears. Jesus responds.

“Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!”
And Jesus does. He doesn’t heal them with a dramatic gesture — he gives them a simple instruction:
“Go show yourselves to the priests.”
And as they were going, they were cleansed.

Sometimes God doesn’t work instant miracles. He asks us to take a step in faith, and healing happens along the way — through prayer, support, obedience, sacraments, or time.

Is there a step God is asking us to take right now — a step of faith, even before things are fixed or feelings change?

The Power of Gratitude: The most striking moment in the Gospel is not the healing — it's the response.
Ten were healed. Only one came back. A foreigner. A Samaritan.

Jesus asks:

“Where are the other nine?”

It’s a question that echoes into our world today. We can be like the nine: we experience good things, but we quickly move on. We forget to return to the source — to God.

Think about this:

• How many of us remember to thank God after we get through a hard time?
• How often do we thank Him in the small, ordinary moments — waking up, a friend’s kindness, a child’s smile, a meal on the table?
• Do we come to Mass out of obligation… or as an act of thanksgiving?

The word Eucharist literally means “thanksgiving.” Every Mass is our opportunity to return to Jesus — like the Samaritan — and fall at his feet in gratitude.

The one leper who returned was not only healed — he was saved. Jesus says: “Your faith has saved you.”

He received more than the others because he came back with a heart full of worship.

So how do we live like that leper? 

Here are three simple practices for daily life:

1. Practice Daily Gratitude

One of the practical Ways to grow in Gratitude is to do a Daily Examen of conscience. Each evening, take one minute to thank God for three things. They can be big or small. This rewires the heart to look for grace. This trains the eyes of our hearts to see God’s action.

 

2. Return Often to the Eucharist

Make Sunday Mass not just a habit, but a conscious homecoming to Jesus. And when possible, come during the week — even for a brief visit in Adoration.

3. Share Your Gratitude with Others

When you notice God working in your life, tell someone. Gratitude is contagious. Your story may lead someone else to recognize God in their own life.

Finally, let’s not be part of the nine who went on with their lives and forgot who healed them. Let’s be like Naaman, like the Samaritan — those who came back, who gave thanks, who turned a miracle into a moment of faith.

Because ultimately, it's not just about being healed. It's about being saved, being whole, and living a life centered on Jesus Christ.

So… what blessings have you forgotten to thank God for?

Today, this week — return to Him. Say thank you. And hear Him say to you:

“Stand up and go. Your faith has saved you.”

 Respect Life Sunday

Today we gather on Respect Life Sunday to reflect upon one of the most urgent and foundational themes of our Catholic faith: the profound and unshakable dignity of human life. Every human person, created in the image and likeness of God, bears a dignity that is inherent, inviolable, and sacred. This dignity does not depend on what someone can accomplish, how attractive they are, how much wealth they possess, their age, their health, or their usefulness to society. It flows simply from the reality that they are beloved children of God, wonderfully made, and loved into existence by the Creator Himself.

The Foundations of Life’s Dignity

The very first pages of the Bible proclaim this truth: “God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27). These words form the bedrock of all Catholic teaching on life. To be human is to bear the mark of God’s own image. From conception until natural death, therefore, human life is a sacred gift, entrusted to us to protect, to cherish, and to nurture.

Yet, we live in an age when this truth is often forgotten or even rejected. Human life can be treated as something disposable. The unborn child is threatened by abortion, the elderly or seriously ill are pressured toward assisted suicide, the stranger or immigrant can be dismissed through prejudice, and too many communities are scarred by violence, neglect, or war. In many corners of our world, human life is reduced to a commodity—something to be manipulated for convenience, profit, or social utility.

Pope St. John Paul II, in his encyclical Evangelium Vitae, (Gospel of Life) described it as an ongoing struggle between a “culture of life” and a “culture of death.” The culture of death sees life as expendable and embraces violence as a solution. It isolates and discards rather than welcomes. But the culture of life, the way of the Gospel, looks at each person as a gift.

Respecting Life at Every Stage

To be pro-life is not just about opposing abortion, though that remains central and urgent. It is about weaving the Gospel of life into every stage and every circumstance of human existence. It means accompanying the mother who feels overwhelmed, supporting families who struggle, and creating a society where children can thrive free of fear. It means refusing to abandon the elderly, the sick, or those living with disabilities, and instead, offering them love, companionship, and dignity.

Respect for life also challenges us to work for peace in a world fractured by war and hatred, to reject racism and prejudice in all their forms, and to reach out to those who seem most difficult to love—even the enemy, the incarcerated, or the one who has wronged us. To be a people of life requires courage to look beyond appearances and differences, to see in each soul the face of Christ.

Mother Teresa, who spent her life tending the poorest of the poor, is a prophet of the Gospel of life. She once said, “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” Respect for life begins right where we are—not first in arguments or public debates, but in the daily love we extend in our homes and relationships. It is in small acts of kindness, in patient care for the vulnerable, in standing beside the voiceless, that we make the Gospel of life visible.

And, as contemporary voices like Charlie Kirk remind us, “Every life has value, and every voice deserves to be heard.” These words echo the core Christian conviction: no one is expendable, no one is beyond the Redeemer’s love. Life is not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be embraced and cherished.

A Story of Love: A nurse once cared for a premature infant abandoned at birth. The baby weighed less than two pounds and her survival seemed impossible. Yet the nurse wrapped her gently, held her close, sang to her, prayed for her, and refused to leave her side. Hours passed into days, and against all odds, the child survived.

Years later, that little girl grew into a strong young woman. She studied, worked hard, and became a nurse herself. Her life and vocation were born from an act of love that refused to measure worth, that did not calculate whether care was “useful,” but that simply recognized and celebrated the dignity of life.

This story is a parable for us all. To respect life is to choose love over indifference, tenderness over calculation, compassion over convenience. It is to trust that when we love as Christ loves, God multiplies that love into miracles beyond imagining.

As we gather at this altar, we remember the source of that love: Jesus Christ Himself, who gave His Body and Blood so that we might have life—life abundant and eternal. The Eucharist is the food of life. To receive it is to receive not only Christ but also the commission to carry His life-giving love into the world.

To be a people of life is not easy. It requires courage to defend the unborn in the face of opposition. It takes perseverance to love the elderly when society pushes them aside. It demands sacrifice to embrace the inconvenient, the stranger, and the enemy. But this is the way of the cross, and it is also the way of joy, for it leads to resurrection and lasting hope.

On this Respect Life Sunday, let us recommit ourselves to building the culture of life. Let our families become schools of love. Let our parishes be sanctuaries of compassion where no one is forgotten. Let our voices be clear and courageous in proclaiming that every life, without exception, is a precious gift from God.

Strengthened by the Eucharist, may we go forth into the world as ambassadors of life, bearers of hope, and witnesses of the God who created us not for death, but for life everlasting.

Amen.