In his Angelus address on the Feast of the Holy Family in 2001, St. John Paul II shared this with those gathered: “If we aspire to a deeper understanding of Jesus' life and mission, we must draw close to the mystery of the Holy Family of Nazareth to observe and listen.” Following in the footsteps of the Holy Family in today’s Scripture, we find ourselves in quiet Bethlehem, just after the departure of the Magi. The angel of the Lord appears to Joseph in a dream, this time with a warning:

Throughout my life, I have had a litany of requests for God. I have asked for mundane and ultimately inconsequential favors and also for guidance in much more important matters. But I have often hesitated to ask for the deepest desires of my heart. Those requests feel too big, too impossible, and possibly too selfish – as though asking these things would take away from God’s ability to provide for others. But in thinking this way, I am putting limits on a limitless God. In today’s first reading, the Lord speaks to Ahaz and tells him to ask for a sign – “let it be deep as the netherworld, or high as the sky!”

One morning, I woke up feeling exhausted after a fitful night of sleep. I was achy and generally under the weather. Despite this, I made a to-do list because the day’s work still needed to be accomplished. I was determined to not let this sickness interrupt my productivity, even though I knew I needed to rest. It occurred to me, then, that rest – and dependence on others and God – is sacred also. In today’s psalm, we hear of the many ways the Lord provides: The Lord gives, the Lord raises, the Lord loves, the Lord protects, the Lord saves.

Today’s Gospel is a challenging one, inviting us to consider how much spiritual fruit we are bearing in our lives. St. John the Baptist tells us, “Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance,” reminding us that the depth of our conversion will be measured by our fruit. Speaking to the Pharisees and Sadducees, John says it is not enough to say that “‘We have Abraham as our father.’” If he were speaking today, John might put it this way: it’s not enough to say “I’m Catholic!” or “I belong to X Parish.”

For many in the upper latitudes of the northern hemisphere, this is the darkest time of the year, the time when the duration of daylight is at its lowest. It’s providential, then, that our first reading calls us to “walk in the light of the Lord!” Paul tells us that we do this by “throw[ing] off the works of darkness” and “put[ing] on the armor of light.” While we might not struggle with the vices listed in Paul’s Letter to the Romans, each of us has our own struggles against sin.

Since the birth of my oldest child, I have seen and heard many things about what I should do as a mother. I have heard everything from which products I should purchase to how I should help my child develop a healthy sleep routine. But my identity as a mother is not dependent upon any of these things; instead, it rests on my relationship with God as his beloved daughter and who he has called me to be as a mother. Those living at the time of Jesus were also trying to understand his identity as king according to their own expectations of what a king was meant to be.

We don’t have to look far to find grief, violence, or chaos in our world. Perhaps it has made its way into our community or has pierced our hearts in deeply personal ways. Or even if the chaos of life has remained at a distance for now, it can be tempting to wonder if the end is near at times. But Jesus warns us against catastrophic thoughts. Listen to what he says in today’s Gospel, when asked how we will know the end time is coming: “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for such things must happen first, but it will not immediately be the end.” Jesus knew we would need his clear and steady reminder. If you find yourself fearing the state of the world, turn all your senses toward Jesus. Let your anxiety, grief, and concern become catalysts for prayer.

Although today’s feast marks the dedication of one of the most important churches for Catholics, the Basilica of Saint John Lateran, it’s ultimately not a celebration of a building, but a celebration of all members of the Church. As Paul reminds us, we are “the “temple of God” and the Spirit of God dwells in us. We see in the Gospel that Jesus has immense love for the temple and wishes to protect it. He uses a whip made from cords to drive out the money-changers, telling them, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” So, too, he loves and cherishes his Body, the Church – the place his presence dwells. Today’s feast invites us to consider our love and zeal for the Church. As our love for the Lord grows, we will grow to love what our Savior loves.

There’s a place in every human heart that harbors the fear of rejection. This can affect our relationship with others as well as our relationship with God. In response, many of us develop coping strategies in an attempt to take control of our lives. When fear of rejection threatens our peace, return to today’s Gospel. What does Jesus say? “I will not reject anyone who comes to me.” Let’s pause to read that line again: I will not reject anyone who comes to me. Allow that message to pierce your heart. Jesus will not reject you. Jesus will not fail you. He will not abandon you. In fact, he has prepared a place for you in his kingdom and is waiting for your response of love.

Today’s first reading says, “The Lord is a God of justice who knows no favorites.” While we humans show deference to people we admire or give preferential treatment to those we like, God loves all his creatures with the same perfect love. But then the reading goes on to say something that seems to contradict that opening line, even suggesting that God has a soft spot in his heart for the poor: “Though not unduly partial toward the weak, yet he hears the cry of the oppressed.”

GROW: Studying Scripture is not a side dish on the plate of practicing the faith. It is an essential component of the virtuous life, and without it, our faith will surely falter. In his second letter to Timothy, Saint Paul reminds us that the Scriptures are the inspired Word of God and they train us in righteous living and equip us for every good work. There will undoubtedly be times when we feel ill-equipped – when we are fatigued, frustrated, or concerned. It is precisely in these moments that we’re invited to go quickly to the holy Word of God! Read it, pray with it, and invite the Spirit to speak to you through it. There you will find the wisdom needed to face every circumstance.

After his healing in the Jordan river, Naaman returns to Elisha. It’s clear from their ensuing conversation that his miraculous healing had led to him recognizing the God of Israel as the one who had healed him. In thanksgiving, he desires to offer sacrifice, and pledges that he “will no longer offer holocaust or sacrifice to any other god except the Lord.” In the Gospel, we see the Samaritan returning to Jesus after his healing, falling at the Lord’s feet and “glorifying God in a loud voice.” It’s clear from both Scriptures that when we recognize what God has done for us, our first response is to worship.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples: “When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’” I think what Jesus is drawing us to see is the humility we need as his disciples. It’s easy to get puffed up, thinking, “Well, I’ve done this” or “I’ve done that” in service of God. We can even start to feel that God owes us. But we are called to love God for God’s own sake, not for the accolades or even the reward that comes from faithfully serving him.