Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary Luke 10: 38-42 Action anchored in contemplation
Today we celebrate Our Lady of the Rosary, a feast born from the conviction that prayer—especially the simple repetition of the Rosary—has the power to change history and convert hearts. The Rosary is not only about words; it is about entering into the mysteries of Christ with the eyes and heart of Mary, learning to sit at His feet as Mary of Bethany did in today’s Gospel.
The story of Martha and Mary shows us the tension between action and contemplation. Martha busies herself with serving, while Mary chooses to sit quietly and listen. Jesus gently reminds us: “Only one thing is necessary.” Not that action is wrong—God needs Marthas as well as Marys—but that our action must flow from prayer, from a heart anchored in God. Otherwise, even our good intentions can become restless, distracted, or burdensome.
This ties beautifully with the first reading from Jonah. The prophet preached a simple message of repentance, and to his surprise, the whole city of Nineveh turned back to God. Their conversion did not come from Jonah’s eloquence or effort, but from the power of God working in willing hearts. Sometimes, like Martha, we think everything depends on our doing. But the Rosary teaches us the opposite: that salvation flows first from listening, from meditating, from allowing God to work in us.
Our Lady of the Rosary invites us to enter into this balance—like Mary, to sit at Jesus’ feet, and like Jonah, to bear witness to His mercy. The Rosary gives us both: contemplation of Christ’s mysteries and the strength to live them in action.
Today, let us ask Mary to help us listen more deeply, pray more faithfully, and serve more lovingly—so that, in all we do, Christ remains at the centre.
Monday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time Or Optional Memorial of Saint Bruno, Priest Luke 10:25-37 Taking risks to make our compassion real
The parable of the Good Samaritan is one of the most familiar in the Gospel, yet it always challenges us in new ways. Jesus tells the story along a road everyone knew was dangerous—the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, notorious for robbers and ambushes. The point is clear: this is not a safe or easy situation, but a place where compassion requires courage.
Given a choice, we would blame the traveller who carelessly risked his life by travelling alone on that dangerous road – he should not have gone alone. Yet Jesus shows us that love does not stop to calculate blame. Mercy is given even to those who “brought trouble on themselves.”
Then we meet the priest and the Levite. They see the man but choose to pass by. Perhaps they feared ritual impurity, or maybe it was just the motto “safety first.” Whatever the excuse, their concern for their own safety and duty outweighed the call to compassion.
Finally comes the Samaritan. To the Jewish audience, he would have been the last person expected to help—an outsider, despised and distrusted. And yet, it is this stranger who stops, binds the wounds, pays the bill, and promises to return. In him we see the heart of God, who comes close to our brokenness without asking whether we deserve it.
The lesson is simple but demanding: our neighbour is anyone in need, no matter their race, religion, or background. True compassion does not remain a feeling—it takes shape in action. Here the story of Jonah comes to mind. Jonah ran from God’s call because he did not want to show mercy to foreigners. But God saved him from the belly of the fish and sent him again, teaching him that His mercy cannot be limited.
Jesus says the same to us: “Go and do likewise.” To love as God loves means crossing boundaries, taking risks, and making our compassion real.
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Luke 17: 5-10 “Lord, Increase our Faith”
The disciples make a humble request to Jesus: “Increase our faith.” It is a prayer that could easily be ours. Often, when we look at the struggles of life, the injustices in the world, or even our own weakness, we too feel the need for stronger faith.
But Jesus does not promise them, “Here, I will give you more faith.” Instead, he tells them that even the smallest seed of faith has extraordinary power: “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, … this sycamore tree… would obey you.” In other words, the question is not how much faith we have, but whether we truly trust God with the little that we already have.
Faith is not a quantity to be measured but a relationship to be lived. It is not about possessing power but about trusting in the One who is powerful. The prophet Habakkuk reminds us of this when he says: “The righteous person lives by faith.” Faith allows us to keep walking even when darkness surrounds us, believing that God will not abandon us.
Paul, writing to Timothy, takes this further: “Stir into flame the gift of God that you have received.” Faith is a gift, but it is also a responsibility. Like a fire, it must be nurtured or it dies out. Timothy is encouraged not to be ashamed or fear suffering, but to trust in the Spirit who provides courage and strength. In the same way, we have been entrusted with the Gospel and are called to protect it with the Spirit’s help.
And then Jesus adds a hard lesson: discipleship is service. He tells the parable of the servant who, after working all day, is not praised but expected to serve still more. “When you have done all you were commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” At first, this sounds harsh. But Jesus is teaching us something essential: our service to God and others is not about earning a reward or putting God in our debt. Love is not a transaction; it is a way of life.
The disciple is always a servant, because that is the very nature of Christ himself. He did not come to be served, but to serve. Our faith, then, is not proven by miracles or achievements, but by humble and gratuitous love—the kind of love that forgives, that serves the poor, that anticipates the needs of others without waiting to be asked.
So today, let us pray with the apostles: “Increase our faith.” And let us understand what we are asking for: not more quantity, but deeper trust. Faith the size of a mustard seed can uproot resentment, overcome division, heal broken relationships, and build a new world of justice and peace. That is the miracle of faith: when we put even a little trust in Jesus, God can do what seems impossible.
全属于祢 
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