Reflecting Him

Daily Reflection – 11/11/2026

Sacred Scripture

As Jesus continued his journey to Jerusalem, he traveled through Samaria and Galilee. As he was entering a village, ten lepers met him. They stood at a distance from him and raised their voice, saying, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!” And when he saw them, he said, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” As they were going they were cleansed. And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, “Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?” Then he said to him, “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.” (Luke 17:11-19)

Reflection

There is something almost heartbreaking in the question Jesus asks: “Where are the other nine?”

Ten people cried out to Him when they were desperate. Ten needed His mercy. Ten received what they asked for.

But only one came back.

Perhaps that is where this Gospel quietly finds us.

Most of us know how to pray when life hurts. When someone we love is sick, when money is tight, when a relationship is breaking, when loneliness settles in, or when fear wakes us in the middle of the night, we know how to say, “Jesus, Master! Have pity on us!”

But what happens when the crisis passes?

What happens when ordinary life returns, when the problem gets solved, when someone we love gets better, or when we suddenly realize that God has carried us through something we once thought we could never survive?

Do we come back?

Gratitude is more than saying thank you. Gratitude is coming back.

The Samaritan could have continued down the road with the other nine. Imagine everything he wanted to do and everyone he wanted to see now that his life had been restored. Yet something inside him made him stop and turn around.

He understood that the blessing should lead him back to the One who had blessed him.

How often do we receive God’s gifts and hurry right past God?

We can stand before a beautiful ocean and think about what we still don’t have. We can be surrounded by people who love us and dwell instead on how someone disappointed us. We can have food, shelter, friendship, another sunrise, another chance, another breath, and somehow allow those blessings to become ordinary.

Sometimes ingratitude is not selfishness as much as blindness. We simply stop noticing.

So perhaps today God asks us to stop and remember.

Remember some of the prayers you once prayed desperately. Remember the nights you wondered how you would make it through. Remember the people God placed beside you, the unexpected kindness, the strength that appeared when yours was gone, the forgiveness you received, and the second chances you did not earn.

And remember this: You are still here.

Not everything turned out exactly as you hoped. There may still be wounds, disappointments, and unanswered prayers. Gratitude does not ask us to pretend otherwise. It simply refuses to let what is missing erase what has been given.

The nine received healing. But the man who returned discovered something even deeper. Jesus told him, “Your faith has saved you.”

Perhaps that is the real beauty of gratitude. Eventually we stop thanking God only for what He has given us and begin thanking Him for who He has been to us.

So today, perhaps we don’t need to ask God for anything.

Maybe we simply need to come back, kneel beside that Samaritan for a moment, and say from somewhere deep within:

“Lord, I remember what You have done for me. I haven’t forgotten You. Thank You.”

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, forgive me for the times I have received Your blessings and hurried on without returning to You. Open my eyes to the goodness I overlook and the grace I sometimes take for granted. Teach me to recognize Your hand in both the extraordinary and ordinary moments of my life. When my heart becomes consumed by what I lack, remind me of all I have received. May gratitude draw me closer to You until thanking You becomes not merely something I say, but a way I live. Amen.”

Daily Note

We often remember God when we need something. Today, remember Him because He has already given so much. Look deliberately for one blessing you have begun to take for granted, stop long enough to recognize where it came from, and be the one who comes back.

Daily Reflection – 11/10/2026

Sacred Scripture

Jesus said to the Apostles: “Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your place at table’? Would he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished’? Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” (Luke 17:7-10)

Reflection

There is something almost uncomfortable about these words of Jesus.

We live in a world where so much of what we do comes with an expectation. Work deserves compensation. Achievement deserves recognition. Sacrifice deserves gratitude. If we give enough, somewhere inside us we hope someone notices.

And then Jesus gives us this servant.

He works all day and returns home only to discover there is still more to be done. No applause. No special recognition. Jesus seems to be asking us a difficult question: If no one notices what you have done, will you still serve?

That question reaches directly into the heart of discipleship.

We do not love God so that God will owe us something. We do not serve others to earn a place closer to Him. We serve because we have already been loved beyond anything we could ever earn.

And once we understand the enormity of God’s love, service stops being merely an obligation and becomes our response to Him. Gratitude replaces expectation. We stop asking, “What will I receive?” and begin asking, “Lord, what can I give?”

Often, the answer is found in another person.

Someone needs forgiveness when forgiveness is difficult. Someone needs patience when ours is almost gone. Someone lonely needs to know another human being sees them. Someone completely different from us still needs to be treated with dignity, compassion, and love.

That is where Christianity becomes real.

It is easy to speak about love. It is considerably harder to be love when anger, pride, resentment, and division enter the room.

The world gives us countless reasons to separate ourselves from one another. Choose a side. Draw the line. Decide who deserves compassion and who does not.

Christ gives us another way.

He reminds us that the person standing across that imaginary line is still a child of God.

Our service, then, becomes more than particular acts of kindness. It becomes the way we live. We build rather than tear down. We forgive rather than cling to injury. We listen instead of immediately condemning. We help others become more of who God created them to be.

And perhaps there is something else beautiful hidden in today’s Gospel: serving others is itself a gift.

God invites us into His work. Our hands can become instruments of His kindness. Our words can encourage someone. Our forgiveness can restore a relationship. Our compassion can remind a forgotten person that they matter.

What a privilege that is.

So when Jesus calls us servants, He is not diminishing our worth. He is reminding us where our greatness is found.

Not above one another.

Beside one another.

Serving. Loving. Forgiving. Encouraging. Quietly doing the good placed before us without demanding recognition for having done it.

Perhaps at the end of the day, instead of saying, “Lord, look at everything I have done for You,” our prayer can simply be:

“Lord, thank You for allowing me to serve You today.”

Because I am a servant to you because I serve Him.

And serving God was never about earning His love.

It is our grateful response to having been loved all along.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, fill my heart with Your love and teach me the humility of true service. Free me from needing recognition or reward for the good I do. When I encounter someone who needs patience, forgiveness, compassion, or kindness, help me remember that I am serving You in serving them.

Make my life a grateful response to the love You have already given me. Let my words build up, my hands help, my heart forgive, and my life quietly reflect Your goodness.

And at the end of each day, may I simply be grateful that You allowed me to serve You.”

Daily Note

We are stewards, for a time, of the abilities, opportunities, relationships, and days God has entrusted to us. Our privilege is not in being recognized for what we accomplish, but in discovering that God allows us to participate in His work through the way we love and serve one another.

There is no higher service than allowing another person to encounter the love of God through us.

Daily Reflection – 11/09/2026

Sacred Scripture

And he said to his disciples, “Temptations to sin are sure to come; but woe to him by whom they come! It would be better for him if a millstone were hung round his neck and he were cast into the sea, than that he should cause one of these little ones to sin. Take heed to yourselves; if your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him; and if he sins against you seven times in the day, and turns to you seven times, and says, `I repent,’ you must forgive him.” The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” And the Lord said, “If you had faith as a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this sycamine tree, `Be rooted up, and be planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” (Luke 17: 1-6)

Reflection

There is something wonderfully honest about the apostles’ response to Jesus in this Gospel. Jesus tells them about temptation, responsibility, repentance, and the seemingly impossible demand to forgive someone even when that person hurts them again and again. And the apostles do not pretend that this will be easy.

They simply say, “Increase our faith!”

Perhaps they understood something we sometimes forget: forgiveness requires faith.

It takes faith to believe that releasing resentment will not make us weaker. It takes faith to surrender the hurt we have carried for years. It takes faith to believe that God can heal something inside us that another person has broken. And sometimes it takes enormous faith simply to believe that tomorrow does not have to be imprisoned by what happened yesterday.

Jesus answers them with the image of a mustard seed.

He does not tell them that they need heroic faith. He does not demand spiritual perfection. He tells them that faith, even when it seems impossibly small, contains extraordinary possibilities when it is placed in God’s hands.

That matters because there are days when our faith does feel small.

There are days when prayer feels difficult, when disappointment weighs heavily upon us, when the wounds caused by another person are still tender. We may look within ourselves searching for some great reservoir of faith and discover that there is barely a seed left.

And Jesus says: Bring Me the seed.

Bring Me the little faith you still have.

Bring Me the part of your heart that still wants to believe even while another part is struggling. Bring Me your anger, your disappointment, your fear, and even your inability to forgive completely. God does not need us to pretend that the wound never happened. He asks us to trust Him enough to begin loosening our grip upon it.

Perhaps that is where the miracle begins.

Forgiveness does not always happen in one dramatic moment. Sometimes forgiveness is deciding today that we will not allow another person’s wrongdoing to determine the condition of our heart. Tomorrow, we may have to make that decision again. And perhaps the next day too.

That may be why Jesus speaks about forgiving seven times in a single day. Love sometimes requires us to begin again.

And every new beginning is an act of faith.

The mustard seed reminds us that God can work with something very small. A whispered prayer. A reluctant act of forgiveness. One moment when we choose mercy instead of resentment. One decision to trust God when everything inside us wants certainty first.

We may look at that tiny beginning and think it could never be enough.

Jesus looks at it and sees what it can become.

So perhaps our prayer today does not need to be, “Lord, give me enormous faith.”

Perhaps it is simply:

Lord, take the little faith I have. Help me forgive. Help me trust. Help me begin again.

And then let God grow the seed.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, you give us victory over the destructive forces of sin and harmful desires that keep us from doing your will. Give me the strength to always choose what is good and to reject what is wrong. May your love and truth rule my heart that I may give good example to others and guide those who need your wise instruction and help.”

Daily Note

As we ask the Lord for an increase in faith, we are asking him for the light that comes from faith so that we may examine our consciences appropriately, see our spiritual blind spots and look at our behavior from God’s perspective, and come, even seven times a day, to say, “Lord, have mercy on me!”

Daily Reflection – 11/6/2026

Sacred Scripture

Jesus said to his disciples, “A rich man had a steward who was reported to him for squandering his property. He summoned him and said, ‘What is this I hear about you? Prepare a full account of your stewardship, because you can no longer be my steward.’ The steward said to himself, ‘What shall I do, now that my master is taking the position of steward away from me? I am not strong enough to dig and I am ashamed to beg. I know what I shall do so that, when I am removed from the stewardship, they may welcome me into their homes.’ He called in his master’s debtors one by one. To the first he said, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ He replied, ‘One hundred measures of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Here is your promissory note. Sit down and quickly write one for fifty.’ Then to another he said, ‘And you, how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘One hundred measures of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Here is your promissory note; write one for eighty.’ And the master commended that dishonest steward for acting prudently. For the children of this world are more prudent in dealing with their own generation than the children of light.” (Luke 16:1-8)

Reflection

There is something almost uncomfortable about this Gospel. Jesus gives us a dishonest man and then points to him as an example. We expect the lesson to be, “Do not be like this man.” Instead, Jesus seems to say, “Look at how seriously he takes what is coming.”

Maybe that is where this Gospel begins to speak to us.

The steward finally understands that his time is limited. He has been careless with what was entrusted to him, but when he realizes that an accounting is coming, everything changes. Suddenly, tomorrow matters. Suddenly, what he does today matters.

And perhaps Jesus is quietly asking us: Do we live with that same awareness?

We are stewards too.

Not simply of money or possessions, but of lives that were given to us by God. Our time. Our abilities. Our relationships. Our opportunities to forgive, to encourage, to serve, to notice someone who feels forgotten. Even the ordinary hours of an ordinary day are placed temporarily into our hands.

We sometimes live as though we own them.

But we don’t.

That sounds severe until we realize how beautiful it actually is. If everything is gift, then everything can become an offering. The question is no longer simply, What do I have? It becomes, What am I doing with what God has trusted me to carry?

The steward becomes urgent because he knows his present situation will not last forever. Jesus asks the children of light to have at least that much wisdom about eternity.

Not fear. Wisdom.

There will come a day when the things we spend so much energy accumulating will belong to someone else. The accomplishments, possessions, recognition, and status that seem so important now will become strangely small.

But love will not.

The kindness we gave will matter. The mercy we showed will matter. The person we forgave when holding a grudge would have been easier will matter. The moments when we chose God over ourselves will matter.

Perhaps stewardship is ultimately less about what is in our hands than about what passes through them.

God places people, resources, time, and opportunities before us, and for a little while we are allowed to hold them. Then life moves on. Another day comes. Another season begins. Eventually our stewardship is complete.

And someday God will ask what we did with what He gave us.

Maybe the Christian life is simply learning, day after day, to have a good answer.

Not because we lived perfectly.

But because somewhere along the way we understood:

Nothing was really ours except the choice of what we did with what God placed in our hands.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, everything I have and everything I am began as a gift from You. Forgive me for the times I have treated Your gifts as possessions rather than trusts. Teach me to use my time generously, my resources wisely, and my life lovingly. Help me recognize the people and opportunities You place before me today, and give me the courage not to waste them. When the day comes for me to return everything to You, may I do so with a grateful heart, knowing that I tried to use Your gifts for Your purposes. Amen.”

Daily Note

We spend much of life preparing for things that may never happen. Today’s Gospel asks us to prepare for the one meeting that certainly will: our meeting with God. That need not frighten us. It should awaken us.

Today is another piece of our stewardship placed into our hands. What we do with it is our answer to God.

Daily Reflection – 11/05/26

Sacred Scripture

Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable: “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost, until he finds it? And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, `Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. “Or what woman, having ten silver coins, if she loses one coin, does not light a lamp and sweep the house and seek diligently until she finds it? And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, `Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin which I had lost.’  Just so, I tell you, there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”( Luke 15:1-10)

Reflection

There are days when we know exactly who we are. We feel strong, useful, loved, perhaps even certain that we are walking where God wants us to walk.

And then there are other days.

Days when something we have done weighs heavily on us. Days when age or illness reminds us that we cannot do what we once did. Days when an old weakness returns, a relationship breaks, or we simply look at ourselves and wonder whether somewhere along the way we became less than the person we hoped to be.

Today’s Scripture whispers something beautiful into those moments:

Your value has not changed.

The coin in Jesus’ parable does not stop being valuable because it is lost. It may be lying unnoticed in a dark corner, covered with dust, unable to find its own way back. But none of that changes what it is worth.

Perhaps that is why the woman lights a lamp.

God does not look into our darkness and decide we are no longer worth the trouble. He brings light into the darkness because we are worth finding.

And the shepherd does something equally remarkable. He does not stand with the ninety-nine and wait impatiently for the lost sheep to figure out the way home. He goes looking.

That tells us something about God that we should never forget.

We may wander from Him, but He does not wander from us.

Sometimes we measure our worth by all the wrong things. We measure it by accomplishment, money, recognition, appearance, usefulness, even by whether other people still seem to need us. And when those things disappear, we can quietly begin believing that some part of our value disappeared with them.

But God has never measured us that way.

Our worth rests somewhere much deeper: in what we mean to Him.

And apparently, we mean enough for Him to search.

That may be the most comforting part of these parables. Jesus does not merely tell us that God will take us back if somehow we manage to find our way home. He gives us a God who searches, a God who lights the lamp, a God who bends down into the dusty corners, a God who carries the weary sheep when it no longer has the strength to walk.

And notice what happens when He finds what was lost.

There is no lecture.

There is joy.

Maybe we have imagined heaven watching our failures with disappointment when heaven has actually been waiting to celebrate our return.

So if today you feel distant from God, do not mistake distance for abandonment. If you have fallen, do not mistake failure for worthlessness. If life has diminished something you once prized in yourself, do not imagine that it has diminished what God sees in you.

You are not loved because you have never been lost.
You are loved because you are His.

And somewhere in whatever darkness surrounds you, the lamp is already burning.

God is still searching.

Prayer of The Day

Lord Jesus, when I lose sight of my worth, remind me that You never do. Shine Your light into the places where I have become lost, frightened, ashamed, or discouraged. When I wander from You, come and find me. When I am too tired to walk, carry me. And when I encounter someone else who has lost their way, help me never to judge them from a safe distance, but to bring Your mercy, tenderness, and love into their darkness. May my life give You reason for joy. Amen.

Daily Note

Today, remember that the people who seem hardest to love may simply be standing in a darkness we cannot see. God does not ask us to decide who is worthy of being found. He asks us to carry the lamp. Sometimes one small act of mercy is enough to remind another person that God has not stopped looking for them.

Daily Reflection – 11/4/2026

Sacred Scripture

Great crowds were traveling with Jesus, and he turned and addressed them, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. Which of you wishing to construct a tower does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion? Otherwise, after laying the foundation and finding himself unable to finish the work the onlookers should laugh at him and say, “This one began to build but did not have the resources to finish.” Or what king marching into battle would not first sit down and decide whether with ten thousand troops he can successfully oppose another king advancing upon him with twenty thousand troops? But if not, while he is still far away, he will send a delegation to ask for peace terms. In the same way, everyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:25-33)

Reflection

There are moments in the Gospel when Jesus seems determined to make following him difficult. Great crowds are traveling with him, and instead of welcoming their enthusiasm, he turns and speaks words that must have stopped them in their tracks. Count the cost. Carry your cross. Renounce everything. Put nothing before me.

Jesus apparently has little interest in collecting admirers.

He is looking for disciples. And there is a difference.

An admirer can walk with Jesus when the road is pleasant. A disciple chooses him when the road becomes costly. An admirer appreciates his words. A disciple allows those words to rearrange a life.

That is why Jesus tells the crowd to calculate the cost before beginning. He does not want an impulsive promise made in a moment of enthusiasm. He wants a heart that has looked carefully at what discipleship asks and still says yes.

Even the startling command about “hating” father, mother, spouse, children, and even life itself is not a command to stop loving. The expression speaks to preference and priority. Jesus is saying that no relationship, possession, ambition, fear, or even instinct for self-preservation can occupy the place that belongs to God.

That sounds like loss.

Strangely, it becomes freedom.

Because whatever we place first eventually has enormous power over us. If money comes first, we live afraid of losing it. If approval comes first, we become prisoners of what others think. If success comes first, failure can destroy us. Even the people we love most cannot carry the weight of being the center of our existence.

But when God is first, everything else can be loved without being worshiped.

Perhaps that is one meaning of carrying the cross that we sometimes overlook. The cross is not simply the suffering that happens to us. Some crosses are found in the choices we make because we have decided whom we belong to. We forgive when resentment would be easier. We remain compassionate when bitterness seems justified. We give when keeping would be safer. We stand beside someone others have abandoned. We choose truth when dishonesty would cost less.

These things can hurt. But they can also set us free.

Life will still bring burdens we never chose: illness, grief, disappointment, injustice, loneliness, and loss. Jesus never promises that discipleship will remove them. He promises something far more intimate: we will never carry them without him.

Maybe that is why the cross can become a choice for life.

We choose to believe that suffering does not have the final word. We choose to believe that what looks like surrender to the world can become freedom in the hands of God. We choose to believe that when we stumble beneath what life has placed upon us, Christ is still there, lifting us, holding us, and reminding us that the road does not end at the cross.

It leads home.

And somewhere along that road something beautiful happens. When God becomes first, his love begins moving outward through us. Our lives become places where another person may encounter patience, mercy, courage, forgiveness, or hope.

Sometimes we may never even know it happened.

We simply choose Christ, carry what is ours to carry, and let his light find its way through us.

Prayer of The Day

Lord Jesus, teach me to choose You not only when following You is easy, but when love asks something of me. Help me loosen my grip on everything I place before You and give me strength for the crosses I must carry. When I stumble, remind me that I do not walk alone. Let Your love work through my life so that someone who needs hope may encounter You through me. Amen.

Daily Note

Discipleship is not something that simply happens to us. It is a choice made again and again. Putting God first does not mean loving everything else less; it means loving everything else from the right place. Today, ask yourself quietly: What has first place in my life? Then choose Christ once more. Carry what today gives you, love whoever God places before you, and trust that even a difficult road can lead toward life.

Daily Reflection – 11/3/2026

Reflection

There is something almost heartbreaking about this Gospel.

The banquet is ready. The table has been set. The invitation has already been given. No one is being asked to earn a seat. They simply have to come.

And yet, one by one, they choose something else.

That may be the uncomfortable part of this Scripture for us. Their excuses are not terrible things. One has purchased land. Another has bought oxen. Another has married. Work, possessions, family. These are ordinary parts of a human life, and many of them are blessings from God.

The problem is not that they have these things. The problem is that these things have become more important than the One who gave them.

Perhaps that is where this parable quietly finds us.

Most of us are probably not consciously refusing God. We are postponing Him.

I’ll pray when things settle down. I’ll make time for God when I finish this. I’m not ready to forgive. I’ll change someday.

And someday becomes a remarkably comfortable place to put God.

Meanwhile, the banquet is ready now.

There is also something beautiful hidden inside this difficult parable. When the invited guests refuse to come, the master does not cancel the feast. He opens the doors wider. “Bring in here the poor and the crippled, the blind and the lame.”

And still there is room.

What a magnificent little sentence: There is still room.

Room for those who thought they would never belong. Room for those carrying failures and regrets. Room for the wounded. Room for the person whose faith has stumbled. Room for people who arrive without impressive credentials, spiritual résumés, or anything to place before God except their need for Him.

There is room for us. But we still have to come.

That is where grace becomes costly. Bonhoeffer understood that following Christ is not simply admiring Him from a comfortable distance. Christ’s invitation asks something of us. It asks us to surrender the illusion that we can belong completely to Him while always putting Him second.

We will stumble. We will become distracted. We will sometimes choose the field, the oxen, the endless business of life. But Christianity is not about never failing to respond. It is about hearing His voice again and turning back toward the table.

Perhaps the question today is not, “Am I invited?”

That has already been answered.

The question is: What am I allowing to keep me from accepting the invitation?

The door is open. The table is prepared. God is not searching for reasons to keep us out. He is calling us in. And still there is room.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord, You have invited me into a life with You, yet I so easily allow the cares, possessions, distractions, and responsibilities of this world to come first. Help me recognize the excuses I make and give me the courage to lay them down. Teach me to seek You not someday, but today. When I stumble, remind me that Your invitation remains before me. Give me the faith to answer Your call, take up my cross, and follow You to the table You have prepared. Amen.”

Daily Note

We sometimes imagine that rejecting God must look like a dramatic decision. More often, it may simply look like “not today.” Another responsibility comes first, another distraction takes our attention, and another day passes.

Jesus reminds us that the invitation has already been given. We do not need a better life, a cleaner past, or a perfect faith before coming to Him. There is still room. The invitation is still open. Come.

Daily Reflection – 10/29/2026

Sacred Scripture

At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”( Luke 13:31–35)

Reflection

There is a quiet courage in Jesus here that is easy to miss.

Herod wants Him dead. The warning is real. Yet Jesus does not allow Herod’s threat to determine either His direction or His heart. He will continue healing. He will continue freeing people. He will continue walking the road the Father has placed before Him.

Fear does not get to choose His path.

That speaks powerfully to our own time because fear so easily becomes the hidden hand steering our lives. We fear people who are different from us. We fear losing what we have. We fear a changing world, uncertain futures, our own failures, illness, loneliness, even death itself. And when fear takes hold, it tempts us to retreat behind walls or to strike out at whatever we believe threatens us.

Jesus shows another way.

What strikes me most is what happens next. Facing rejection and knowing what awaits Him, Jesus does not curse Jerusalem. He weeps over it.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem…”

You can almost hear the ache in His voice. This is not the anger of someone eager to condemn. It is the heartbreak of someone who loves deeply and watches that love refused.

And then comes perhaps the tenderest image in the passage: “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.”

That is the heart of God revealed to us.

Before we imagine God pointing a finger at us, perhaps we should remember these wings.

Jesus longs to gather us, shelter us and draw us close. Even when we wander. Even when we resist. Even when we convince ourselves that we can manage quite well without Him, His desire remains: Come closer. Let Me gather you.

But there is a painful sentence hidden inside that tenderness: “And you were not willing.”

Perhaps that is the question Scripture quietly places before us today. Not, “Does God want me?” That has already been answered.

The question is: Am I willing to be gathered?

Am I willing to surrender the fears, resentments and certainties I sometimes cling to? Am I willing to let Christ shape how I see someone whose beliefs, politics, culture, religion or life experience are different from mine? Am I willing to follow Him when His way places me outside the comfortable crowd?

Because following Jesus will sometimes make us outliers.

We ARE different, but not because we believe ourselves better than anyone else. We are different because our lives are meant to be measured by something other than the standards of the world. When the world says fear, Christ says trust. When the world says retaliate, Christ says forgive. When the world says divide people into those who belong and those who do not, Christ stretches out His arms and says, Come under My wings.

That road is difficult. Yet it is the road toward the peace for which our souls were created.

And perhaps there is something else here. Jesus knows Jerusalem will reject Him, but He walks toward Jerusalem anyway.

Love keeps walking toward the beloved.

That may be the most beautiful truth in this passage.

We may keep our distance from Christ, but He does not stop loving us. We may become distracted, frightened or lost, but He continues calling us home. His faithfulness does not depend upon ours.

So today, perhaps our prayer does not need to begin with asking Jesus to come nearer.

Perhaps He already has.

Perhaps the prayer is simply:

Lord, I am willing. Gather me.

And then, sheltered beneath His wings, we can step back into this wounded and divided world carrying something it desperately needs: not another voice of fear, but the quiet presence of Christ.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, when fear pulls me away from You, gather me beneath Your wings. Quiet the voices that harden my heart and teach me to see others through Your compassion rather than my fear. Give me courage to walk Your road even when it makes me different from the crowd. Fill me with Your peace, mercy and love, so that my life may quietly reveal Your presence to others. Lord, I am willing. Gather me close and keep me walking beside You. Amen.”

Daily Note

Jesus does not ask us to pretend that the world is unbroken. He shows us how to stand within its brokenness without allowing it to break our capacity to love. Before rushing out today to solve, argue, defend or condemn, spend a few quiet moments beneath His wings. Let Him fill the heart first. Then carry that peace with you into the streets of life.

Daily Reflection – 10/30/2026

Sacred Scripture

On a Sabbath he went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully. In front of him there was a man suffering from dropsy. Jesus spoke to the scholars of the law and Pharisees in reply, asking, “Is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath or not?” But they kept silent; so he took the man and, after he had healed him, dismissed him. Then he said to them, “Who among you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, would not immediately pull him out on the Sabbath day?” But they were unable to answer his question. (Luke 14:1-6)

Reflection

There is something uncomfortable about the opening of today’s Gospel. Everyone is watching Jesus carefully. We can almost feel the tension around the table. But while they are watching Jesus, Jesus is watching someone else.

He sees the suffering man standing before Him.

Perhaps that is the first place this Gospel asks us to pause. What do we see when we enter a room? Do we see the people who matter to us, the people who irritate us, the people whose approval we want? Or do we notice the person who is hurting?

The Pharisees know the law. They know the Sabbath. They know the arguments about what is permitted and what is forbidden. Yet somehow, surrounded by all that religious knowledge, they have lost sight of the man standing in front of them.

Jesus has not.

And Jesus asks a remarkably simple question: “Is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath or not?”

They say nothing.

Their silence tells us something. Perhaps they realize that any answer will expose what has happened to their hearts. They have become so concerned with protecting the rules that they can no longer recognize the purpose behind them. The Sabbath was a gift from God, given for restoration and communion. Yet here is a man who needs restoration, and they hesitate.

Jesus does not.: “He took the man…and healed him.”

Before another argument, before another explanation, there is a human being who is suffering. And Jesus reaches for him.

Maybe that is where this Gospel comes closest to us.

We can become so busy deciding what ought to be done, what someone deserves, who is right, who is wrong, or whether this is the proper moment, that compassion gets postponed. We tell ourselves we will call later. Forgive later. Help later. Listen when we have more time. Say the kind word when the moment is easier.

Jesus reminds us that sometimes love refuses to wait.

Then He asks them whether they would leave their own son or even their animal trapped in a cistern simply because it was the Sabbath. Of course they would not. Suddenly the issue is no longer a rule. It is someone they love.

And perhaps that is the deeper challenge Jesus places before us: What if we learned to see every person as someone loved that deeply by God?

That changes things.

The difficult person is loved by God. The lonely person we barely notice is loved by God. The person whose choices we do not understand is loved by God. And the person carrying a burden nobody else can see is standing before the same Jesus who reached out His hand to the suffering man.

There is humility here, but perhaps not the kind we usually think about. Humility is not merely thinking less of ourselves. Sometimes humility means setting aside our certainty long enough to see another person clearly. It means admitting that compassion may matter more than winning the argument.

The Pharisees watched Jesus carefully because they were looking for something wrong.

Jesus looked carefully and found someone who was hurting.

That difference is worth carrying with us today.

Because every day we get to choose how we will look at the people God places before us.

May we look a little less for what is wrong with them and a little more for where they hurt.

And when love gives us the opportunity to reach out, may we not wait for a more convenient day.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, may I always honor you, both in my work and in my rest, and in the way I treat my neighbor. Fill me with your love and keep me free from a critical and intolerant spirit that I may always seek to please you and to bring good to my neighbor as well.”

Daily Note

Humility means far more than just welcoming others appropriately as good manners. It is to remind us that God has given us all good things for no good reason. It is to remind us that God invites us to do the same for others. It is an invitation to take our faith seriously enough to live and act differently. Our faith is important to the degree that it helps us navigate the daily decisions and situations that attend our lives.

Daily Reflection – 10/28/2026

Sacred Scripture

Jesus passed through towns and villages, teaching as he went and making his way to Jerusalem. Someone asked him, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” He answered them, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, ‘Lord, open the door for us.’ He will say to you in reply, ‘I do not know where you are from.’ And you will say, ‘We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.’ Then he will say to you, ‘I do not know where you are from. Depart from me, all you evildoers!’ And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God and you yourselves cast out. And people will come from the east and the west and from the north and the south and will recline at table in the kingdom of God. For behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” (Luke 13:22-30)

Reflection

There is something unsettling about the question put to Jesus: “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” Perhaps somewhere inside us, we have wondered the same thing. Who gets in? Who is left out? Where will I stand?

But Jesus never answers with a number. Instead, He turns the question back toward the person asking “Strive to enter through the narrow gate.”

In other words, do not spend your life wondering about everybody else. Look at the door before you.

The narrow door is not narrow because God is reluctant to let us enter. People will come from east and west, north and south, and sit together at God’s table. The invitation is wonderfully wide.

Perhaps the door is narrow because there are things we simply cannot carry through it.

Our pride will not fit. Neither will resentment, selfishness, the need to be right, the grudges we have protected for years, or the quiet belief that somehow we deserve a better place at God’s table than somebody else.

Eventually something has to be left behind.

After more than four decades of ministry, I have come to believe that the narrow door is not something we encounter only once, somewhere at the end of life. We stand before it every day.

We stand there when forgiveness is harder than anger. When compassion costs us something. When we could gossip and choose silence instead. When someone is discouraged, forgotten, angry, or feeling diminished and we choose to remind them that their life still matters.

The narrow door appears in remarkably ordinary places.

And perhaps its two great hinges are the ones Jesus has always given us: love God above everything, and love our brothers and sisters with that same love. Every day.

Jesus’ warning is sobering because those standing outside insist that they knew Him: “We ate and drank in your company and you taught in our streets.” But being near Jesus is not the same as allowing Jesus to change our heart. Faith cannot remain merely something we hear or profess. Eventually it must become something we live.

Yet there is grace even in this demanding Gospel. Jesus is speaking while the door is still open.

There is still time to forgive. Still time to repent. Still time to surrender the anger. Still time to return. Still time to love better than we loved yesterday.

Maybe that is why the Christian life is filled with beginnings.

We fall, and God calls us back. We wander, and God calls us home. We discover another cluttered room within the heart, and God patiently helps us clear it.

And tomorrow, if necessary, we begin again.

So perhaps the question tonight is not, “How many will be saved?”

Perhaps it is much closer to home:

What am I still carrying that will not fit through the door?

And then, trusting the mercy of Christ, we put it down.

And begin again.

Prayer of The Day

“Lord Jesus, lead me through the narrow door each day. Help me leave behind my pride, anger, selfishness, and fear. Teach me to love You above all things and to love my brothers and sisters with a generous heart. When I stumble, give me the humility to return to You and the courage to begin again. Amen.”

Daily Note

The narrow door is not merely waiting for us at the end of life. We meet it in the choices we make today: whether to forgive or resent, serve or ignore, trust or fear, love or turn away.

We do not walk through that door alone. Christ walks with us. And when we fail, His grace gives us the courage to put down what we have been carrying and begin again.