Our liturgical readings for this First Sunday of Lent zero in on our earthen heritage through four extraordinary texts focusing on four integral things: 

A) The intended relationality of all things in God’s good Creation (cf. Genesis 2:7, 9a, 15, 19-25); 

B) The disrupted relationality of God’s Creation because of Covenant Infidelity (Gen 3:1-7, 14-23); 

C) Repentance for Covenant Infidelity (Psalm 51); 

D) The subsequent enslavement of all of God’s Creation – human, non-human, the entire cosmos! – to the cosmic powers of Sin and Death that is relinquished by the obedience of the “One Human Being” (Romans 5:12-19 & Matthew 4:1-11). 

THE OLD TESTAMENT READING FROM GENESIS underscores clearly how we human beings (human/humus = “earth,” “soil,” or “ground” in Latin) are materially connected to all created things since in the Hebrew of the Old Testament, God fashions “the human being” (Ha’Adam) from out of “the earth” (Ha’Adamah in the Hebrew; Genesis 2:7-9).  Adam from Adamah!  The “human/humus being” from the Earth!  Indeed, the “Adam” does not become a proper name until Genesis 4:25.  After fashioning the “human being” out of the earth, God then blows the breath of life into the human’s nostrils so that the human becomes, as one Old Testament scholar has put it, “breathing life.”  Indeed, it is from this same earth (Ha’Adamah) that God fashions the trees and animals (Genesis 2:9, 18-20) and, as it is implied, breathes life into the animals and trees as well (“animal” from “Anima” in Latin = “breath,” “vital force”) who look to God for their life and breath (See Psalm 104:27-30).  Such is the intricacy of the relationality of God’s creation – the human being from the earth, the animals and trees from the earth, and all of it animated by the very breath of God.  

This intricate relationality of all of Creation is reflected in the traditional liturgy of Ash Wednesday when we humans are reminded that we are “dust” (Afar = “dust,” “top soil,” in the Hebrew; Gen 3:19) and to the “dust” of the earth (Ha’Adamah) we will return.  So, relationship is key to the Divine intentionality behind God’s Creation, a relationality that is, alas, disrupted by the desire of the “humus beings” to self-assert and so, “dominate” (cf. Genesis 1:26-27) in a fashion not like the “Domination” or “Dominion” (Dominus = “Lord”) of our Lord God – Jesus Christ.  Christ’s Lordship is one of caring reciprocity, flourishing fecundity, and love.

THE RESPONSORIAL PSALM (Psalm 51:3-4, 5-6, 12-13, 17) invites us to repentance as the Psalmist cries out to Yahweh to, in mercy and compassion, “wash away” guilt and “sin” (= “Covenant Infidelity”).  Interestingly, the very same set of verses in the Psalm just prior to Psalm 51 can be seen underscoring the centrality of Covenant as the glue to the God-willed relationality of all creation.  It does so by describing “the heavens” (Ha’Shamayim in Hebrew) and “the earth” (Ha’Adamah) being called by God to judge the people (Psalm 50:3-4), highlighting God’s Covenant righteousness/Covenant Fidelity in all of this (Psalm 50:5-6), asserting the earth (Ha’Adamah) as belonging to God (Psalm 50:12-13), and finally declaring how the humans cast God’s Covenant behind (Psalm 50:17).  Indeed, in the prophetic tradition such Covenant Infidelity is imagined as leading directly to the broken relationship characteristic of environmental degradation (see Hosea 4:1-3).

THE NEW TESTAMENT readings from both Romans (5:12-19) and the Gospel of Matthew (4:1-11) ring hopeful.  On the one hand, the reading from Matthew’s gospel has Christ’s Covenant Fidelity on display by Jesus’ reciting from the Covenant three times (Deuteronomy 8:3; 6:16; 6:13) in response to the devil’s tempting him first, to self-sufficiency (4:3), second, to coerce God (4:6), and third, to embrace Empire (4:9).  On the other hand, the Apostle Paul imagines that the dual reigns of the cosmic powers of Sin and Death are broken by the super-abundant reign of Grace (Notice the “how much more?” and “how much more?” of Romans 5: 15 and 17) through the rectification of broken relationship between humans, between humans and the non-human creation, and between humans and God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 5:12-14, 21; cf. 5:6).

Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida

Our Liturgical Readings for the Second Sunday of Lent focus on both God’s agency and on faith as “trust” rather than some sort of “belief” or mental assent to a rational proposition or particular doctrine.  The readings underscore how “trust” implies relationality – relationship! – rather than rationality or “certitude.”

THE OLD TESTAMENT READING FROM GENESIS relates the well-known story of the call of Abram.  To this point in the story of Genesis 1-11, we learn how human beings haven’t progressed all that much since the self-assertion of Adam and Eve (Genesis 3) to the self-assertion of the humans to build a city and a tower with “it’s top in the sky,” and thus, to “make a name for ourselves” (Genesis 11:4).  Moreover, the genealogy of Abram is one of a family’s future marked by “irreparable hopelessness” since Abram’s wife Sarai is barren (11:32).  Thus, the call of Abram creates an interesting turn in the Genesis narrative from hopelessness to hope, from nothingness to newness of life, as God takes matters into God’s own hands.

The call itself is rather abrupt and without any stated rhyme or reason: “The LORD said to Abram: ‘Go forth from the land of your kinfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you’” (Genesis 12:1).  This is no small ask since calling Abram, with his wife Sarai, to leave the land of his kinfolk and his father’s house is a call to leave behind all of the things that spelled out certitude, security, and survival in the ancient Mediterranean world.  The initial call to “go forth” to another land is followed by a string of verbs that firmly establish God’s intent to be involved in the future of this barren couple.  “I will show you,” “I will make you,” “I will bless you,” “I will make your name great” (12:1b-2; cf. 11:4b!).  God is imagined here as a generative agent in the world who will do all of this so that Israel will be a “blessing to all of the families of the earth” (12:2b, 3b).

The straightforward description that “Abram went as the LORD directed him” (12:4a) also comes without any stated rhyme or reason.  A whole lot of trust is involved on Abram’s part.  He doesn’t even wonder why he should go anywhere or even who it is that calls him into this extraordinary relationship based on radical trust.  Such “faith,” or better, “trust” in the word of the LORD is astonishing, and will be celebrated by the Apostle Paul as something “reckoned” to Abram as “righteousness” (Romans 4:3b).  On the one hand, the “righteousness” of Abram, in Paul’s mind, is his radical trust in the word of Yahweh.  On the other hand, the Apostle imagines God’s “righteousness” as evidenced in God’s active agency to persevere in relationship with humanity despite the reality that things had come to a dead end…a “barren end.”  Indeed, the Torah (Hebrew for “teaching”) summarizes “righteousness” in terms of relationality – love of God (Deuteronomy 6:5) and love of neighbor (Leviticus 19:18) – a summary embraced by our Lord Jesus Christ (Cf. Matthew 22:34-40; Mark 12:28-31; Luke 10:25-28).

THE RESPOSORIAL PSALM today urges the faithful to trust in the LORD to deliver “from death” (Psalm 33:19), from barrenness into newness of life (!), as the SECOND READING assures that God’s call to each of us to a “holy life” is according to God’s own design, God’s agency(!), and not our own (2 Timothy 1:9).  Such a holy life to which we are called, according to the GOSPEL READING for this 2nd Sunday in Lent, requires our own stepping out in radical trust as the voice of God from heaven says “listen to him” (Matthew 17:5b) – listen to Jesus! – which will inevitably lead to us to the cross (cf. Matthew 16:21-23; 17:22-23; 20:17-19). 

Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida

Our Liturgical Reading for the Third Sunday of Lent from the GOSPEL OF JOHN hasnJesus encountering a Samaritan woman in Samaria near a small Samaritan town of Sychar.  Sychar is in an area called Shechem where many significant events happen in the Old Testament, all worth tracking down and becoming familiar with, and that shed interesting light(s) on today’s gospel reading.  

What I hope to do with this reflection is to suggest an alternative reading of the story of the Samaritan woman that for many might throw fresh new light on the text so that the reader might see something different than what most sermons/homilies typically aim at.  Get your Bible out, turn to John 4 (and John 3 too!), and follow along closely by reading the scripture citations along the way.

THINGS TO KNOW THAT SHED LIGHT ON JOHN 4:5-42

1) DICHOTOMY AND JOHN’S GOSPEL

Three dichotomous “themes” John’s gospel focuses on are A) “light” and “dark(ness),” B) “knowing” and “not knowing” – especially when it comes to what someone knows about Jesus’ identity, and C) “sight” and “blindness.”  There are others along these same lines.

2) WORDS WITH DOUBLE MEANING

The author of John’s Gospel is fond of creating confusion and misunderstanding during various characters’ encounters with Jesus by having words with more than one meaning (“Double Entendre”) come out of Jesus’ mouth.  Jesus typically means one thing by such a word while his discourse partner(s) understands another meaning of the word – and thus, the confusion.  Here are just a few of the “double entendres” in John:

1. Anōthen in Greek means both “from above” and “again” (3:3, 7).

2. Pneuma in Greek means both “wind” and “spirit” as in the Holy Spirit (3:8).

3. Hypsaō in Greek means both “lifted up” and “exalted” (3:14).

4. Hydor Zōn in Greek means both “living water” as in running water, river water, or spring water – typically more potable than stagnant well water – and water that provides spiritual life of some kind (4:11, 14).

3) JOHN 4:5-42 IS MEANT TO BE COMPARED WITH JOHN 3:1-15

The story about Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan Woman purposefully stands in stark contrast to Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus (John 3:1-15).  Notice how the Nicodemus encounter happens at night – under the cloak of darkness (3:2), while the Samaritan Woman’s encounter occurs at “about noon” – the brightest, lightest time of day (4:6; see theme “A” above, etc.).  

Notice too, all that Nicodemus knows about Jesus is that he is a teacher from God, and this is based on Jesus’ “signs” – that is, “miracles.”  Knowledge based on “signs” is not necessarily a good thing in John’s gospel (cf. John 2:23-24). Conversely, the Samaritan Woman’s knowledge lands on Jesus as a “prophet” (cf. 4:19, 29a).  Nicodemus eventually throws his hands up in frustration (“How can this happen?”; 3:9) because he cannot “comprehend” what Jesus is talking about. Similarly, the “darkness does not ‘comprehend’” (katelaben in Greek; 1:5) the light.  Although, the Samaritan woman does not fully comprehend who Jesus is either (compare 4:25-26 with 4:29a), she nevertheless, goes to Sychar to tell folks there what she thinks she knows and invites them to “come and see” (4:29).  She even raises the question “Could (Jesus) possibly be the Messiah?” (4:29b).

4) ORIENTATION TO DISORIENTATION TO NEW ORIENTATION

Nicodemus came to Jesus fully orientated by what he thought he knew about him – that Jesus is a “teacher come from God” and this because of Jesus’ “signs” (3:2).  Then Nicodemus is thoroughly disoriented by what Jesus says about being born “from above” (Anōthen in the Greek).  This encounter with Jesus ends (at this point in the narrative at least) with Nicodemus dumbfounded and deep in disorientation (3:9).

Likewise, the Samaritan Woman’s world is turned around when she encounters Jesus, but in a very different way than Nicodemus’.  Like Nicodemus, she begins by stating what she thinks she knows about Jesus and the situation: “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” (4:9).  The woman likely expected silence from Jesus when she came to the well since Jews and Samaritans sought to avoid one another (cf. 4:9b), and because in Mediterranean culture, then and still today, males of one household did not directly address women from another household in public.  Jews and Samaritans also held different notions of where proper worship of God should happen.  The Jews thought the proper place for worship was at the Jerusalem Temple, the “Second Temple” built by the Exiles on return from Babylon that was later expanded by Herod the Great.  Alternatively, the Samaritans built a temple for God on Mount Gerizim thinking that is where Abraham bound Isaac to sacrifice him to God.  Thus, their temple was the proper place to worship God.

Jesus’ offer to the woman of “Living Water” (Hydor Zōn in the Greek) throws the woman off a bit since she expects that Jesus is talking about the kind of water that one can drink to quench a thirst (see 4:15).  Compared to Nicodemus’ disorientation, the woman’s is somewhat mild, but no less strange.  As their conversation progresses, so does the Samaritan woman’s understanding of Jesus’ identity.  Eventually she recognizes Jesus to be a prophet (4:19).  

At 4:25 the woman asserts something she thinks she knows, namely, that “Messiah is coming” who will “tell us everything”!  Her words are met with a rare full disclosure of Jesus’ identity, out of his own mouth: “‘I AM,’ the one who is speaking with you” (4:26; translation mine).  Jesus literally says “I AM,” and not “I am he…” as most English translations render it.  Thus, he claims to be God, the one who confronted Moses in the burning bush with the divine name “I AM” – Yahweh in the Hebrew.  Then, suddenly, the disciples return and the woman leaves her water jar at the well, and heads to Sychar to tell folks about Jesus, the prophet who may or may not(?) be the Messiah.  The reader is left to wonder just who the Samaritan woman thinks Jesus is…does she “get it” or not?  Since she left her water jar behind at the well with Jesus, maybe she is beginning to “get it” since such jars could only hold water for drinking (4:15), and not the Living Water that Jesus has on offer.

5) THE “SINFULNESS” (???) OF THE “GOOD SAMARITAN WOMAN”

Sermons/homilies on this passage have sometimes focused on something the passage itself does not, namely, the supposed sexual sinfulness of the Samaritan woman since she has been married five times (4:16-18).  Such an interpretation undercuts the subject of the passage – Jesus’ Identity – by focusing on the Samaritan woman’s supposed sinful life.  As this thinking goes, the woman’s sinfulness is exposed by Jesus, “Go call your husband…” (4:16), which motivates her to repent and “leave behind” her sinful life – “symbolized by her leaving her water jar at the well” just before successfully evangelizing an entire town.

The problem with this reading of the text is it presupposes that her marriages, and there were many, were necessarily “sinful,” maybe out of wedlock, or even short-lived because of her marital infidelities, or something of the kind.  I’ve heard all of these in sermons and/or homilies. 

To begin with, the text says nothing about the woman’s sinfulness.  Indeed, it may have been the case – in the narrative world of the text – that she was caught up in a string of levirate marriages, that is, sequential marriages to her husband’s brothers after her husband’s death.  After each one, in turn, died, perhaps the next brother had little interest in fulfilling his culturally prescribed role as a good husband (see the question to Jesus in Matthew 22:23-33 about a woman who had no less than seven husbands via Levirate Marriage – no sin implied! Cf. Mark 12:18-27; Luke 20:27-40). In any event, the three verses that relate information about the Samaritan woman’s marital situation, are simply left behind by both the author of the gospel and by Jesus who commends her for speaking the truth.  Preachers and teachers of this passage, should follow Jesus’ lead on this.

At bottom, this passage is about a Samaritan woman who encounters the Light of the World, Jesus, during the lightest and brightest time of day.  She has an interesting and complex discourse with Jesus that results in her growing steadily in knowledge of who Jesus is.  And despite the fact that she does not fully understand who Jesus is, she nevertheless, goes to Sychar and proclaims what she does know.  The result of her proclamation is an entire town coming to know that Jesus is “truly the savior of the world” (4:42).  

In a way, the role of the Samaritan woman in John’s gospel is similar to the role of the “Good Samaritan” in Luke’s gospel (Luke 10:25-37) since both narratives would have shocked most Jewish hearers by the positive portrayal of Samaritans.  Luke’s Jesus tells the Good Samaritan parable to a Jewish “Lawyer” asking how one might inherit eternal life.  Jesus turns the question right back on the Lawyer asking him what the Torah says about it.  Then the Lawyer recites to Jesus the “Great Commandment”: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27).  After Jesus praises his knowledge of the Torah and suggests that the Lawyer do the same as the Samaritan, the Lawyer asks “Who is my neighbor?”  Jesus responds with a parable about a Samaritan whose behavior demonstrates to the Jewish Lawyer, how to be a neighbor and thus, how to be neighborly (Luke 10:29-37).  A Jewish Lawyer instructed on Torah-keeping by a Samaritan, of all people!!!  Similarly, today’s Gospel reading about a Samaritan woman – of all people! – tells us not to wait until we think we know enough, or even know it all(?) about Jesus before we go tell folks about him.  God can take any proclamation – however “simple” or “wise” – and turn it into Hydor Zōn!, Living Water!” (4:10); The same living water that God gave the Israelites in the wilderness (cf. Exodus 17:3-7); the living waters of Jesus Christ who died for us “while we were still sinners” (Romans 5:1-8).

 Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida

Today's Reading for the Fourth Sunday of Lent from the OLD TESTAMENT (1 Samuel 16:1-13)  revisits a theme from the Second Sunday of Lent as we hear of the agency of God in choosing a king to shepherd God’s people.  The prophet Samuel is called to commit an act of treason by finding, and then anointing a king over Israel while Saul is still king despite the fact that God had rejected Saul as King in the previous chapter (1 Samuel 15:23).  Samuel knows the risks involved as he is instructed by God to go forward with the plot by making it look like he is traveling to Bethlehem to offer sacrifice to God, and to invite Jesse, the father of David, to join him in the sacrifice (16:1-3).  

God’s agency is operative through the prophet Samuel.  What characterizes Samuel’s actions as “prophetic” is that he moves on God’s behalf to anoint the “runt” shepherd boy David, the youngest and smallest of Jesse’s family, – something unheard of in a culture that preferred the oldest sons (primogeniture) over the younger sons, the strongest over the weak, the high-born or “kingly” over the low-born.  The text imagines a shepherd unlike other shepherds of other kingdoms.  

After surveying seven of Jesse’s sons – all of them strong, tall, and king-like – and yet all of them rejected by God, Jesse suddenly remembers his youngest, David, tending the sheep.  He is called, chosen by God, and anointed King by Samuel (16:11-13).  The criteria for God’s choice of David is based not on the usual criteria of power, strength, influence – the way human beings see leaders.  God’s choice is based on the heart of the shepherd (16:7).

Perhaps this text has on offer a Lenten practice of looking past appearance and pedigree, the things that our culture says are “the stuff of real leadership.”  Or perhaps we might practice imagining the world anew, as a world where real significance flows from bottom to top, smallest to greatest – a world like Jesus imagined at Luke 4:18-19, where good news is brought to the poor, captives are released, the blind given sight, and the oppressed are freed.  Or even the world as Paul imagined it, where God chose the weak over the strong, low born and despised over those of noble birth (1 Corinthians 1:26-28).  Much is indeed at stake as the prophet Ezekiel warns of shepherds who pasture themselves rather than the sheep (Ezekiel 34!); shepherds who are unable to admit that they may, sometimes, be blind (John 9:40-41).

GOD’S NEW CREATION AND THE HEART OF THE SHEPHERD

Today’s Gospel reading, John 9:1-41, is the well-known story of Jesus healing a man blind from birth.  At first glance, this healing narrative rings familiar to ears who have heard many stories about Jesus healing people in the Four Gospels.  John’s story of the “Healing of the Man Born Blind” is a rather complex narrative that calls to mind much more than the other healing stories in John and the other gospels.  Indeed, it calls to mind the Creation accounts of chapters 1-2 of Genesis since, what we have here in John 9 is a sort of “Creatio Redux” – Creation brought back, allegorically, that is.  Exploring this text briefly from the perspective of Creatio Redux may shed light that is not often kindled while preaching this narrative. 

Why was the man born blind?  Jesus’ disciples ask this question as we often do (9:2).  Perhaps, this narrative is not as much about blindness, healing, or something of the kind, as it is about Jesus himself – the Word who was with God “in the beginning” (John 1:1a), and who was, indeed, God Godself, the Creator (1:1c).  Thus, the man was born blind, not because of the sin(s) of his parents (Adam and Eve of Genesis 2?), but so that “the works of God might be made manifest” in the blind man (9:3b).  When this story is imagined this way, the Creator (Jesus) adds water to the dirt, or humus, of the ground (Afar! See the reflection for the 1st Sunday of Lent), makes a mud/clay salve of it, and then applies it to the blind man’s eyes (John 9:6; compare with Gen 2:4-7).  Jesus tells the blind man to go wash his eyes at the Siloam pool (9:7).  When the man returns from the pool able to see, Jesus is nowhere to be found.  In fact, Jesus disappears from the narrative from 9:8-34.  

If Jesus is indeed the Logos – both with God and who was God – through whom all things were created, then perhaps his absence (9:8-34) may be seen as the Sabbath rest of God.  Ancient Rabbis and early Christian theologians often wondered what was happening to/with the Creation when God was resting on the Sabbath?  In answer, some imagined the Sabbath was God taking a step back, and making space for God’s creation to simply “be,” to flourish, blossom, and grow in all of its beautiful fecundity.  Flourish, blossom, and grow is exactly what the man born blind does from 9:8-34.  Through a series of four interrogation scenes (9:8-12; 13-17; 18-23; 24-34) we watch the man’s knowledge of who Jesus is grow from “a man called Jesus” (9:11), to “a prophet” (9:17), to a “man from God” (9:33).  For his final confession of who Jesus is (a man “from God”), the man born blind was excommunicated from the synagogue (9:34b; compare with 9:22-23).  When Jesus, the Logos returns to the scene at 9:35, he finds the man born blind.  Jesus asks him “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” to which the man asks “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”  Jesus tells the man “You have seen him and the one speaking to you is he” (9:37).  The formerly blind man’s final confession of Jesus’ identity is “Lord” a confession followed by the very action his parents, Adam and Eve (sticking with the Creatio motif), were not able to do, namely, worship God.

The growth and flourishing of the man’s faith (trust!) in Jesus is striking and beautiful to behold as he moves from admitting “I do not know” to confessing Jesus as “Lord” (9:12 to 9:38).  His growth in knowledge of Jesus’ identity – remembering that knowledge of Jesus’ identity is a key theme in this gospel (see the reflection for the 3rd Sunday in Lent) – can be compared to what the Pharisees think they know about Jesus, namely, that Jesus is “not from God” (9:16) and “sinner” (9:24).  Moreover, the Pharisees also say that they “do not know” where Jesus is from (9:29).

Jesus’ subsequent words to the Pharisees, that is, the Shepherds (or “rulers”) of Israel, is astonishing.  “I came into this world (literally “cosmos” in Greek) for judgement, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind” (9:39).  To the Pharisees’ question “Surely, we are not blind, are we?” Jesus responds: “If you were blind you would have no sin; but now (because) you are saying, ‘we see,’ so your sin remains” (9:40-41).  Because the reputed shepherds of Israel lay vigorous claim to knowledge and wisdom (“Surely, we are not blind, are we?”), Jesus avers that such self-assured knowledge, such certitude, is blindness – which brings us back to the subject of today’s Old Testament reading about the selection of David as the shepherd of Israel (1 Samuel 16:1-13) in view of the warning issued by the prophet Ezekiel concerning the governance of the Shepherds (Ezekiel 34).

The story of the man born blind does not finish at the end of John 9, but continues through John 10:21 – Jesus’ long discourse to the Pharisees/Jews of 9:40; a discourse about the leadership/kingship of the Good Shepherd, Jesus, which can be compared with that all leaders of all times – rulers or kings, governors or senators, presidents or prime ministers.  The prophet Ezekiel warns of shepherds “shepherding themselves” at the expense of their sheep, not unlike the false shepherds who are “strangers” (10:5a) and “thieves” who come to “steal and slaughter and destroy” (10:10a).  Alternatively, and against the grain of what people consider to be “kingly” both then and now, Jesus, the “Good Shepherd” (10:11a), willingly lays down his life for the sheep (10:15b).  Such selfless love, selfless giving, selfless Shepherding(!) is what lies at the heart of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ, who suffered and died for the ungodly (Romans 5:6-8).

 Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida

The readings for the 5th Sunday of Lent reach to the edges of despairing hope. 
In our OLD TESTAMENT READING FROM from the prophet Ezekiel we hear the prophet speak for God who is an active, generative agent in the world.  Notice the verbs: “I will open your graves,” “I will have you rise, and (I will) “bring you back,” “I will put my Spirit (Ruach in the Hebrew) in you,” “I will settle you,” “I am the LORD…I have promised, and I will do it!” (37:12-17).  What is left out of the reading are the verses just prior describing Ezekiel’s vision of a valley of dried up, dead, lifeless bones – the people of God, Israel, exiled in Babylon; an apparent “no people” with no land or inheritance left; no Jerusalem, no Temple, no future.  Only dry, dead bones.  No possibility or potential here.  

When God asks Ezekiel “Can these bones live?” the prophet, sitting on the edge of despair can only muster in response “LORD God, you alone know that!” (37:3).  Then God works something utterly new (Novum), a New Creation!  Notice the word for Spirit in Hebrew (Ruach) means both Spirit and breath, and appears no less than eight times in Ezekiel 37:1-14.  So, in a daring act of New Creation, that recalls the first creation wherein God’s Ruach blew over the surface of the waters (Genesis 1:2), once again the life-giving Ruach of God breathes life into death, possibility into impossibility, the Exiles into the Land of promise: “Dese Bones Gwine Rise Again,”* indeed!

This text remembers a history of a God of impossible possibilities.  This God brings life forth from barrenness – remember Sarah (Genesis 21:1-2); remember Hannah (1 Samuel 1); remember Sampson’s mother (Judges 13); remember Elizabeth (Luke 1:13). This God brings “life to the dead and calls into being what does not exist” (Romans 4:17).  This God is able to bring life back into an exiled people.

TODAY’S PSALM 130:1-8, pulls us back from too quickly moving to the glory of Easter resurrection, let alone the raising of Lazarus that is also read today.  In it, the Psalmist expresses great sorrow at being perhaps, overwhelmed by grief, deep depression, or some kind of crisis: “Out of the depths I call to you LORD” (Psalm 130:1a).  This is then followed by a cry for God’s attention: “LORD, hear my cry!” (130:1b).  Eventually though, the Psalm turns toward a hope “on the edges” when, after much anguished “waiting” (130:5), from the depths of the soul, the Psalmist cries “My soul looks for the LORD more than the sentinels at daybreak.  More than the sentinels at daybreak!” (130:6; italics mine).  Here the Psalmist’s anxiety is palpable as the waiting is not imagined as patience, or something of the kind.  Rather, as the Apostle Paul will pen in the epistle to the Romans, hope in the Psalm is not hope in something that is seen (Romans 8:24) – a hope emphasizing a sort of “in spite of” character.** Rather, this is a hope on tip toe, trying to get a glimpse of the coming LORD even before the LORD’s anticipated arrival.  Like straining to see the sun rise even before its rays break the horizon.  As one theologian once put it, such hope is best described as “[T]he thin line between impatience that cannot wait, and despair that can only wait.”**

THE NEW TESTAMENT READING for today, from Paul’s letter to the Romans, recalls the Old Testament reading as Paul meditates on the Spirit of God.  Importantly, the word here for “spirit” is pneuma in the Greek.  Like the Hebrew word Ruach discussed above, pneuma means not only both “spirit” and “breath,” but also “wind” (compare John 3:5-8; see also the reflection on the Gospel for the 3rd Sunday in Lent).  In any event, Paul’s meditation read today on the Spirit (8:6-11) leads to the good news that we are indeed “children of God” and “heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ” (8:17a-b).  Alas, this is accentuated by the caveat “…if only we suffer with him so that we might be glorified with him” (8:17b; emphasis mine).  

So, with today’s GOSPEL READING (John 11:1-45), we turn to the suffering over the death of Lazarus before he is raised by Jesus, the Good Shepherd.  Considered in its narrative context, we see the Good Shepherd, Jesus (compare John 10: Ezekiel 34:10-6; also the reflections on the 4th Sunday of Lent), who having narrowly escaped stoning and arrest in Jerusalem (John 10:31, 39; also 8:59) went across the Jordan to where John the Baptist baptized, and where many people began to believe in Jesus (10:42).  While there, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, receives word of the illness of his friend Lazarus (brother of Mary and Martha; 11:2; see also Luke 10:38-42) whom Jesus loved (11:5).  Instead of hurrying to his aid, the Good Shepherd decides to linger two days since Lazarus’ illness “is not to end in death, but is for the Glory of God, (so) that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (11:4; compare with 9:3-5!).  And when the Good Shepherd does decide to “lay down his life” again for the sheep (10:15b, 17-18) and go back to Judea where Lazarus is, his disciples counsel otherwise (11:8).  Jesus then reminds them of both his and his Father’s work during the day, when it is light (11:9-10; see also 1:4b-5; 4:6b; 9:3-5).

The narrative of Jesus raising Lazarus is both beautiful and complex.  It is, like all of Jesus’ encounters with people in John’s gospel, thick with irony, words with double meaning, dynamic misunderstanding, and glory – all of which is easily perceived by the audience of John’s gospel, who not only know from the start both Jesus’ identity and where he comes from (John 1:1-51), but also where he is going (see 13:33-36; 14:1-7; 16:5-15; especially 20:17, Easter Sunday’s Gospel reading!).  

When Jesus stands before the open tomb of his beloved friend Lazarus, he weeps (11:35).  Here the Good Shepherd weeps, perhaps because the cosmic powers of Sin and Death, in John’s narrative world, still reign (See Romans 5:14-17; also Romans 6:6c, 12-18, 20).  If this is the case, then the raising of Lazarus dramatically anticipates Jesus’ death and resurrection – Jesus’ defeat of the cosmic powers of Sin and Death, and the release of the entire cosmos – all of God’s creation (Romans 8:18-23!), all things (Tauta Panta in the New Testament’s Greek), unbound by the shackles of Sin and Death: “Unbind him and let him go!” (John 11:44).

This is good news, indeed!  

Thus, we have hope.  Even at the very edges of life where we weep (John 11:35), where the presence of God seems remote (Psalm 130), and where we can only see dry, dead bones (Ezekiel 37:1-17), and where hoping is experienced as despair that can only wait.  We have hope in the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep.

Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida

*Leonidas A. Johnson, Go Down, Moses! Daily Devotions Inspired by Old Negro Spirituals (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2000), xx.

**Charles B. Cousar, The Letters of Paul. Interpreting Biblical Texts (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1996), 132-133.

PALM SUNDAY, 2026  

THE OLD TESTAMENT READING from Isaiah 50:4-9a, on this the 6th Sunday of Lent, Palm Sunday, is one of four poetic utterances traditionally called “servant songs” (Isaiah 42:1-4; 49:1-6; 50:4-9; 52:13-53:12).  Christians from very early on recognized the servant in Isaiah as Jesus (1 Corinthians 15:3-5; 1 Peter 2:22-25; Mark 10:45; Luke 22:37; Matthew 8:17). Biblical scholars recognize the theme of the servant from Isaiah in the earliest recoverable strands of the Christian Kerygma, or “proclamation” about the risen Christ.  So, proclaimers of the Gospel – preachers – draw a connection between Jesus and the Servant of Isaiah when dealing with Isaiah 50:4-9a, for in it (especially 50:6-7) Christians see the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ that we hear read today in the Gospel reading (Matthew 26:14-27:66), and rightly so.

Another way to “read” this particular servant song is to imagine ourselves, each one of us(!), as the servant, called by God to proclaim a good word to the “weary” (Isa 50:4a).  Indeed, the idea of the “awakening of the ear” (50:4b) can be imagined in terms of “prevenient grace” (CCC 2001, 2022, 1742) by which, in this instance, God turns a person’s will toward God’s own will in order to proclaim consolation to the afflicted, forgotten, and the marginalized.  That said, when one’s will is turned toward God so that s/he faithfully proclaims the Gospel in word and deed, that one is “exposed to a contest with the world.” *  As theologian Jürgen Moltmann put it, “Peace with God means conflict with the world.”**

TODAY’S NEW TESTAMENT READING is Philippians 2:6-11.  This text is referred to as “The Christ Hymn” since scholars think it is a very early hymn/poem sung or recited by early Christians that was used by Paul in his letter to the Christians at Philippi.  The hymn illustrates vividly how, unlike Adam – who grasped at Godlikeness in the garden (Genesis 3:5) – Jesus “emptied” himself (Philippians 2:7).  The word in the Greek of the New Testament here is kenosis, and is an apt description of the faithfulness of Jesus Christ, his faithfulness to God to endure his passion all the way to the cross to liberate humanity from slavery to the cosmic powers of Sin and Death (See Romans 5:14-17; 6:6c, 12-18, 20; Galatians 4:3, 8-9).  Theologian Karl Rahner reflected on the incarnation of Jesus as “kenosis.” *** God incarnated Godself in Jesus Christ “in the form of a slave” (Phil 2:7a) the lowest rung on the social ladder.  Hans Urs von Balthasar linked Jesus’ kenosis to Jesus’ experience of abandonment:**** “‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachtani?’” which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” (Matthew 27:46).  

As we enter into Holy Week, perhaps we might meditate on the self-emptying, the kenosis of Jesus Christ who “humbled himself”, becoming a humus being – a humbling that took the form of obedience unto death on a cross (Phil 2:8) and God forsakenness (Matthew 27:46).  Try to imagine what a daily practice of personal kenosis might look like for you.

Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida

*John Calvin, Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, trans. William Pringle (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1850), 333-339.

** Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope: On the Ground and Implications of a Christian Eschatology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 21.

***Karl Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Christianity (New York: Crossroad, 1992), 222-224.

****Hans Urs von Balthasar, Theo-Drama: Theological Dramatic Theory, Vol. IV (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1988), 300-330.

EASTER SUNDAY, 2026  

THE EASTER SUNDAY READING FROM THE GOSPEL OF JOHN'S ACCOUNT OFFERS AN EXTRAORDINARY SUMMATION OF NOT ONLY A KEY THEME OF JOHN'S GOSPEL, BUT A KEY ASPECT OF GROWING IN FAITH IN OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST.

What is actually read from John (20:1-9) is only a portion of the larger coherent passage (John 20:1-18) that showcases another individual’s encounter with Jesus – that is, Mary Magdalene.  Mary Magdalene doesn’t show up in John’s gospel until 19:25, standing at the foot of the Cross of Christ with the mother of Jesus, Mary wife of Clopas, and the Beloved Disciple (19:25-26).  The identity of Mary Magdalene takes on magnificent form in the very next chapter as this extraordinary disciple of Jesus “bookends” the “empty tomb” account of John’s gospel in a way that calls for greater attention.  But before that, a brief recap of early Lenten readings from John’s gospel and the characters involved in relation to one of the major themes of this gospel – Jesus’ identity and what/who characters think they know about Jesus’ identity.

Jesus’ identity in John is a key element of the gospel that is simultaneously clear and elusive.  Key words and phrases throughout are those when characters say what they think they know about Jesus – who he is, where he is from, where he is now, etc.  Sometimes Jesus is identified in John as demon, a sinner, or a Sabbath breaker, while other times he is called a Jew, a teacher sent from God, a miracle worker (“signs” in John’s gospel), a prophet, a messiah, LORD, and Rabbi.  In fact, the very first chapter of John literally dumps no less than 13 words/phrases identifying who or what Jesus is, most of them honorific titles.  Then, suddenly, all of those titles for Jesus are yanked out from under our feet by a Gospel narrative full of misunderstanding and confusion over who Jesus is, where he is, where he is from, his motives, etc.

Many individual characters encounter Jesus throughout John, each of them displaying somehow what or who they think Jesus is, and even growing somehow and to some extent in knowledge about Jesus’ identity – or not.  Some go further in knowledge than others.  The disciples – collectively all over the map about who Jesus is – are said to “begin to believe” after witnessing Jesus turn water into wine at a wedding (John 2:1-11).  Note that nobody else at the wedding, except perhaps the mother of Jesus and a couple of servants, even knew a “miracle” had taken place.  

The curious Pharisee Nicodemus knew that Jesus was a “teacher sent from God” because of the miracles that Jesus was doing.  By the end of the encounter, Nicodemus fades out of scene exclaiming “how is this stuff possible?!?!” (3:9; loose translation mine!; But see 7:45-52 and 19:39-40).  In contrast to Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman grows in knowledge about Jesus’ identity over the course of their complex conversation.  To her mind Jesus goes from “a Jew” (4:9) to a prophet (4:19, 29a) to maybe the Messiah (4:29b).  Her witness about who or what Jesus is, inadequate as it may be, nevetheless results in the belief of the entire village of Sychar that Jesus is “truly the savior of the world” (4:42).

The Man born blind in John 9 comes to see Jesus clearly, moving from admitting ignorance regarding Jesus’ whereabouts (9:12) to knowing Jesus is a prophet (9:17) to a “man from God” (9:33) to Jesus as “LORD” worthy of worship (9:38).  Lazarus’ sister Martha proclaims Jesus is “the Messiah, the Son of God the one coming into the world” (11:27).  Then, almost immediately, she undercuts her own testimony by calling him “teacher” (11:28b) and then being overly concerned about the stench of her brother’s dead body (11:39).  Nevertheless, the raising of Lazarus results in many of the Jews beginning to believe in Jesus (11:45) while also motivating the chief priests, Pharisees, and the entire Sanhedrin to seek to kill Jesus (11:47-53).

Today’s Gospel reading begins with Mary Magdalene coming to Jesus’ tomb “early in the morning while it was still dark” (20:1; emphasis mine).  Remember, coming to encounter Jesus when it is dark is not necessarily a good omen for what is about to transpire in this gospel.  Nevertheless, what does unfold in this passage is truly the light shining in the darkness (cf. John 1:5).  

Mary arrives to find the stone removed and then runs to tell Peter and the beloved disciple that Jesus was taken from the tomb and “we don’t know where they put him” (20:1).  What follows (20:2-10) is an odd telling of a footrace between Peter and the beloved disciple – an anecdote most scholars of John read as an intentional nod by the author of the gospel at an ongoing struggle between two “factions” within the community of believers for whom this gospel was written.  Alas, that topic is for another day’s reflection….

Once the two disciples are gone, the narrative turns again to Mary who, weeping, looks into the empty tomb and sees two angels, one of whom asks her why she weeps.  Her response is another admission of ignorance like before: “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him” (20:13).  The fact that Mary begins admitting ignorance should recall how the man born blind similarly starts by admitting ignorance about Jesus (cf. John 9:12).  This is a good sign.

Then Mary turns around, sees Jesus but does not know it is Jesus.  Jesus asks her why she weeps, and then who she is looking for.  Then, the Good Shepherd calls Mary by her name (see John 10:3!).  Her eyes are opened. Mary now sees Jesus and calls him “Rabbouni” which literally means “my teacher” (20:16).  Jesus is indeed Mary’s teacher, but because he is more than that he pleads with her saying: “Stop holding onto me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father” (20:17).  Jesus’ origins from the Father and his eventual return to the Father are key aspects of his identity in John’s gospel (See 16:28!; cf. also 7:33-34; 8:14, 21; 13:1, 3, 33, 36; 14:12, 28; 16: 5, 10, 17; 17:11, 13).  

Mary Magdalene does indeed, let go of Jesus (“Rabbouni”) and returns to announce to the disciples “I have seen the LORD.”  Mary Magdalene has come to a full knowledge, a full seeing of Jesus.

Jesus’ plea to “Stop holding on to me” illustrates something about what Mary Magdalene, along with the myriad other characters in this gospel try to do, that is, to hold on to what they think they know about Jesus.  Alternatively, what this Gospel may have to offer us is a message that if one holds too tightly on to what one thinks one knows about Jesus, then that person risks becoming closed off to anything new about the live Word of the Living God.  As one theologian once put it (or, “as the saying goes”?): “The opposite of faith is not doubt. No! The opposite of faith is certitude.”

“Stop holding on to me!” -John 20:17

“Remember not the events of the past,

The things of long ago consider not;

See, I am doing something new!

Now it springs forth, do you not see it?”  -Isaiah 43:18-19a

“The one who sat on the throne said, “See, I make all things new.”  - Revelation 21:5a

Pax et Bonum! …Peace and All Good!

John Daniels, Th.D. Faculty, Ministry Formation Program of the Diocese of St. Augustine

© 2026 Laudato Si of St. Augustine, Florida