Wednesday of the Twenty-fourth Week in Ordinary Time Or Optional Memorial of Saint Hildegard of Bingen, Virgin and Doctor of the Church Or Optional Memorial of Saint Robert Bellarmine, bishop and doctor of the Church Luke 7: 31-35 Nothing Satisfies You
The Gospel often shows us that we human beings are hard to please. Jesus Himself said: “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not weep” (Lk 7:32). Nothing satisfies us. We are always looking for something different, something better, as if life were a menu where we can order whatever we like. Yet the truth is, joy does not come from having everything, but from learning to value what we already have. Today, ask yourself: do I appreciate the people God has placed in my life, or do I always focus on what is missing? Do I see the glass half full or half empty?
There is also the temptation to criticize everything. Some people meddle in matters they don’t even understand, spreading negativity wherever they go. But constant criticism makes us bitter and alone. Remember, even Jesus was criticized—His words, His actions, even His silence! Yet He never let criticism stop Him from doing the will of the Father. If we follow Him, we too must learn not to fear criticism, but to walk forward with courage.
The way forward is the gift of wisdom. Wisdom allows us to savor life, to taste its beauty and its challenges without resentment. Life is short; it is not meant to be wasted on bitterness. Every day God sends us people and situations that can help us grow, if only we receive them with humility and gratitude.
Let us ask the Holy Spirit for the wisdom to recognize the blessings already present, to resist the urge to criticize, and to live with grateful hearts. Only then will we discover that in Christ, life is already full.
Memorial of Saints Cornelius, Pope, and Cyprian, Bishop, Martyrs Luke 7: 11-17 Compassion: The Language of God
In today’s Gospel (Luke 7:11-17), Jesus enters the little town of Nain, a day’s journey from Capernaum. Nain lies between Endor and Shunem—the very place where the prophet Elisha once raised another mother’s son (2 Kings 4:18-37). Even today, just outside Nain, a cemetery of rock tombs reminds us of the sorrow and finality of death. It is here, amid this landscape of grief, that one of the most beautiful stories of the Gospel unfolds.
A widow follows the coffin of her only son. In those few words—“He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow”—all the pathos of human life is contained. The funeral procession, with flutes and cries of mourners, mirrors the timeless sorrow of humanity. Yet in the midst of this grief, the evangelist tells us: “The Lord was moved with compassion.” The Son of God allows His heart to be pierced by the tears of a mother. This is the God we believe in—the God who suffers with us.
Jesus approaches, touches the container—likely not a coffin, but a wicker basket—and commands life to return. As one commentator beautifully says: “Jesus claimed as His own what death had seized as its prey.” The truth remains: Jesus restored him to his mother. He showed that He is Lord not only of life, but also of death. He has triumphed over the grave and promises us: “Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:19). One little note to ponder here is: Was Jesus talking about himself and his mother, a widow who would lose his only son and moved with compassion, he brings her Son back to life?
Compassion is the lens of God’s heart, the language of His love. Indifference looks away; compassion steps forward. Jesus did not avoid the tears of the widow—instead, he entered into them. May we, too, allow our hearts to be moved, to touch the suffering of others, and to speak the language of God: the language that restores life.
OUR LADY OF SORROWS Luke 7: 1-10 Learning from Mary’s Sorrowful Heart
Today, we honour Our Lady of Sorrows, the Mother who stood faithfully at the foot of the Cross. In 1233, seven devout men in Florence each had a vision from the Blessed Virgin Mary, inspiring them to form a religious community that would later be known as the Servites. This devotion originated centuries ago, and through the Servite Order and the Church’s prayers, it has evolved into a feast celebrated by all the faithful. But more than history, this day is an invitation to look into the heart of Mary, a heart that suffered with her Son yet never lost hope.
From the very beginning, Mary knew that her life with Jesus would not be easy. When she presented Him in the Temple, Simeon announced that a sword would pierce her heart. That prophecy was fulfilled as she passed through the events of her life – in their escape into Egypt, in losing the Child Jesus for three days, in meeting him on the way to Calvary, and above all in standing beneath the Cross as He gave His life for us.
As she lived these sorrows with a mother’s love, we realise that she did not run away, she did not protest angrily, she did not sink into despair. Instead, she stayed, remained close to her Son with strength, tenderness, and compassion. This is why the Church gives her to us as Our Lady of Sorrows—because she teaches us how to face suffering without being crushed by it.
Sometimes we think sorrow means sadness or defeat. But the Gospel teaches us something different. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” True sorrow is born from love. Mary’s sorrow was not self-pity.
Brothers and sisters, we too carry sorrows. We know the pain of loss, the weight of injustice, the sadness of broken relationships. Mary invites us not to deny these sorrows, nor to let them turn into bitterness, but to live them with faith. She shows us that sorrow, when lived with love, can become a path to deeper compassion, a way to stay close to Jesus, and even a source of new life.
Mary continues to accompany us in our own sorrows, whispering hope, pointing always to her Son who turns death into life. Let us entrust our hearts to her today, asking her to teach us how to love even in suffering, so that our sorrows may become seeds of resurrection.
您必须登录才能发表评论。