Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent

Reading I: Isaiah 65:17–21
Psalm: 30:2, 4, 5–6, 11–12a,13b
Gospel: John 4:43–54

Deep down, we all know that things are not the way they are supposed to be. If the skeptics and atheists were right, one would expect death to feel like the most natural thing in the world to us. After all, if we really are just highly sophisticated bundles of cells and neurons, then it is difficult to see how our final end should be any more tragic than that of a car breaking down. Regrettable, perhaps, but hardly a serious evil.

As always, however, the problem with atheism is that it contradicts our experience, for the truth is that the monumental abnormality of death is something we all know deeply. Every time one attends a funeral, even the funeral of a devout Catholic, one can’t help but get the sense that it’s not the way things are supposed to be. Turning our attention to today’s readings, we notice that the Old Testament passage from Isaiah speaks of a time and place when death will be overcome. This finds beautiful expression in today’s Gospel reading, when the royal official approaches Jesus and pleads, “Sir, come down before my child dies” (John 4:49). The Greek word for “Sir” is Kyrie, also translated “Lord,” and Jesus can’t help but be amazed at the deferential faith that this man exhibits. Like the royal official, we can and should pray for the physical healing of ourselves, our family members, and friends. Nevertheless, we know that physical suffering and death will continue to be features of this world for a little while yet. Much more importantly, therefore, we need to have faith that the same Jesus who gave physical life to the young boy in the Gospel can also work spiritual healing in our own hearts. Even in our most trying moments, Jesus is there with us, supporting and encouraging us: “At dusk weeping comes for the night; but at dawn there is rejoicing” (Ps 30:6).

Who is a sick person in my life whom I could reach out to this week with material and spiritual support?

Reference:

Journey Through Lent: Reflections on the Daily Mass Readings by Clement Harrold