Monthly Archives: August 2025

Reflecting on Luke 13: 22-30 

My cheeks burn with embarrassment when I think about those who knocked on the Master’s door to ask admittance, only to have him say, “I don’t know you or where you come from.” It always reminds me of a conversation I had with an elderly parishioner many years ago. I knew his name, and several things about him because others who had taken the time to be his actual friends had told me about his fascinating life.

I approached him one day, acting as if we knew each other, and his response was, “I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before.” It was so embarrassing to be called out on my presumptuousness, that just because I knew OF him, that meant that I was privy to a friendship with him I’d never earned.

I’ve written once before about the MOST mortifying moment of my life, when, during COVID, I failed to recognize my oldest friend at an event, just because she was wearing a mask. And,  yesterday, I asked my friend, whose retirement party we were celebrating, who that VERY warm and sweet woman was who greeted me at the door when I arrived. “Um,” she said, “that was me. I was the one who greeted you.”

It had been a few years since I’d seen her, and her hair was different, but shouldn’t I have recognized her voice, or known her immediately by her warmth? Will things about us have changed so much through the years—our thoughtlessness,  our outreach to strangers, our faith itself— that the Master will say, “Who are you? I don’t know where you come from”?

Recognize us, Jesus. Help us recognize you more.

Have you changed so much that Jesus might not recognize you?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Jeremiah 38:4 6. 8-10

King Zedekiah is the hero of the story this weekend, although things could definitely have gone the other way. He seemed to be passively, rather than actively, evil.  He was a reed shaken with the wind, listening to whoever had his ear at the moment. Unfortunately, the princes came from the palace and convinced this weak king that Jeremiah, the prophet who had told him the frightening truth about the devastation of the Babylonian army, had demoralized the people so much that he needed to be killed.

What an awful death that would have been. Jeremiah was lowered into the empty cistern with ropes, and as he descended, he was thigh-deep in mud. Imagine the dark, and the terror. Thank God a valiant court official took his life in his hands (for coming into the king’s presence without being summoned was a capital offense), and pleaded for Jeremiah’s life.

The weak king then saw the other side of the story, and quickly called for Jeremiah to be brought up from the cistern. How terrifying for Jeremiah to be at the whim of this vacillating king. Jeremiah had, at times, been the king’s confidante. In fact, shortly after this terrible episode, he summoned him and, asking him to hold their conversation in strict confidence, revealed his own fear of the future.

It’s strange to us, reading it at the distance of these 2,500 years, that a king could be influenced so easily by one group, and swayed again by just one member. How many innocent people are held in terrible prisons today because no one stepped up for them? This story shows that it takes just one courageous person. Is it I, Lord?

What small thing can you do to advocate for peace?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Lk. 12: 32-46

I love watching people who don’t know they’re being watched. I mean that as people come into our orbit, it’s edifying to see how they behave when they don’t know we’re watching them.

I remember my friend Celeste, decades before the environmental movement really got going, painstakingly removing a single sheet of paper from the printer and turning it over, so that the subsequent text could be printed on it. What really stood out about that to me was not only that she took the time to save a single piece of paper, but that, at some point, she took the time to memorize how to turn the paper around in the printer so the next page was printed correctly, not smashed on top of the previous text. (These are the technological skills that still impress me, all these years later.)

We should all be like the servants who are ready to open the door to their Master when he returns. They don’t have anything to hide, because they’ve been diligent and disciplined in doing the good work they’ve been assigned. I love those people, the ones who keep their homes bright and cheerful, by doing the tasks they perform when no one is looking.

Like Celeste, the servants faithful to the Church’s mandate to care for our common home are careful with every piece of paper, every recyclable plate, even when no one is watching. That is so hard! I worry about what my Master might say to me, asking why I haven’t been more careful with the earth’s resources.

Oh, but I’ve got DECADES to do better, right? No, the hour comes when we least expect it.

What good habits keep you ready for the Master?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Reflecting on Ps. 90:12

The readings are fascinating and rich this weekend, but it’s the Responsorial Psalm that catches me by the throat.

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom, says the psalmist (90:12). Especially in these long days of summer, I always reproach myself for not making the most of the sunshine, of the times with friends, of summer concerts, and even drives in the mountains.

Our days are numbered. We know this with every sunrise, and every end of day. Why, then, do we let the days roll by, one after the other, as if our time isn’t finite, and the sand in the hourglass isn’t relentlessly flowing south? 

As you study the readings, either before or after Mass this weekend, don’t skim the psalm. Stop and pray it, and let its wisdom fill you: 90:3-4. 5-6. 12-13. 14 and 17.

A thousand years are to God like a single watch in the night. The Creator of all galaxies holds us, and sustains us, through all history.

Fill us at daybreak with your kindness. Oh, that we would greet every stunning summer morning with gratitude, and every gorgeous summer sunset with awe.

May the gracious care of the Lord be ours. Prosper the work of our hands! Pray today for all farmers, who watch the skies for rain, and who provide food for the world.

Don’t let these grace-filled days slip by you. Listen for God in every birdsong. If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your heart.

What phrase from today’s psalm most touches you?

Kathy McGovern © 2025