Saturday, October 18, 2025
From the Gospel according to Luke
Lk 10:1-9
At that time, the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go.
He said to them, "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few! Therefore pray to the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into his harvest! Go; behold, I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Do not carry a purse, nor a bag, nor sandals, and do not greet anyone on the road.
Whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house!' If a son of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking what they provide, for the worker deserves his wages. Do not move around from house to house.
When you enter a town and are welcomed, eat what is offered to you, heal the sick who are there, and tell them, 'The kingdom of God is near you.'"
🙏🏼Reflection on the Gospel of the day🕊️
Stability is a ghost we chase in vain. Our lives are not marble palaces, but tents pitched in the storm. Each day brings a different earthquake, unsettles arrangements we thought eternal, sweeps away certainties like dry leaves. And yet, in this perpetual turmoil, comes an ancient and disorienting command: do not move. Do not abandon the house that has fallen to your lot, however damp, however uncomfortable it may be.
The sickness of our age is the yearning for elsewhere. The eye always strays beyond the neighbor's wall, where the grass seems greener, the sun warmer. We mistake the murmur of others' happiness for a symphony, while our own life sounds like a discord. It is a deception of the senses, a poison that gnaws at the roots of the soul. Flight is never a solution; it is a surrender.
Your house is not an accident. It is a battlefield, a construction site, a piece of the world entrusted to you. Those cracks in the wall, that creaking floor, are not signs of a condemnation, but the map of your mission. Why are you there? Not to curse the bad weather, but to raise stronger walls. Not to feel sorry for yourself, but to discover the timber you are made of.
Look around you. Those shadows moving in the same rooms, those faces marked by your same worries, are not extras. They are brothers in the trench. To turn your back on them is a betrayal. Salvation, if it ever comes, will not be a solitary act. It will be a team effort. Share the bread, the burden, the toil. Bring forth your resources, however meager they seem to you. Put your skills to use, however limited you believe them to be.
It is in the act of giving that the prison transforms into a dwelling. It is by spending the currency of your soul for others that you stop smelling the mold and begin to perceive the scent of warm bread. And one day, almost without noticing, you will raise your eyes and that window which once opened onto another's garden, will show you simply your own. And finally, it will be enough.
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