Monthly Archives: November 2025

Reflecting on Isaiah 2: 1-5

If you’ve visited the United Nations building in New York, you have no doubt been touched by the stunning bronze sculpture of a strong man, holding a hammer aloft, pounding his sword.

Beneath the sculpture is an inscription: They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again (Isaiah 2:4).

And here’s the sad irony. The sculpture was donated to the U.S. by the then-USSR at the height of the Cold War. Think of all the terrible wars around the globe that have erupted since they donated it in 1959.

But Isaiah’s vision has found fulfillment in practical applications since WWII. Surplus armored vehicles were transformed into agricultural tractors. Nitrogen mustard, developed from mustard nerve gas, was key in developing the first chemotherapies. And, of course, the GPS originated in guidance software for long-range missiles.

Closer to home, the Guns to Gardens movement continues to gain momentum. Whenever a parish hosts one, there are lines around the block of grateful citizens, ready to safely dispose of the weapons they don’t want in their homes anymore. The guns are turned over to blacksmiths right there on site, who forge the leftover scraps into garden tools.

Even closer to home, this is the beautiful season of the year where we breathe in those Advent candles. Our eyes adjust to the darkened church, with the Advent candles luring our darkened souls into the Light. Our ears adjust to the minor keys of the stirring Advent carols.

Ah, Advent. Transform us, Jesus. Make use of the failings we gratefully leave behind.

What weaknesses have you seen transformed into good?

Kathy McGovern ©2025 

Reflecting on Luke 23: 35-43

Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.

These words, remembered in Luke’s gospel, might be the most cherished words of our faith. St. Dismas (the Penitent Thief) rebuked the other thief who was mocking Jesus from his cross. St. Dismas, in a moment of great faith, turned to Jesus and asked that he be remembered.

But it’s those words that Jesus speaks that fill our hearts with comfort every time we hear them. Today you will be with me in Paradise. Oh yes, Jesus, on this great feast of your kingship over all the earth, please grant that each of us will be with you in your kingdom.

Imagine today what Paradise will be. In my youth, I envisioned a hedonistic eternity, with every imaginable delicious dessert mine for the taking. But the years have softened my selfishness. These days, I pray for a Paradise that has somehow gathered even the worst of the worst into an eternity of deep repentance and astonishing forgiveness.

Paradise will restore us to our youthful bodies. There will be no illness, no sadness, no death. We will run and not grow weary, we will walk and not faint (Isaiah 40:31). There will be abundant food and water for all creation: I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water” (Isaiah 41: 17-18).

Paradise will be where ALL creation experiences the eternal goodness of God.

Jesus, remember us.

How do you imagine Paradise?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on  Luke 21: 5-19

It’s sobering to stand at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. It is an ancient retaining wall on the hill known as the Temple Mount.  Visitors place prayers on tiny pieces of paper and press them into the crevices of the last remaining wall of King Herod’s Temple.

Even the great builder Herod couldn’t construct a complex strong enough to withstand the Roman assault on Jerusalem in 70AD. The Romans knew that destroying the Temple would break the Jewish will to fight. This was a devastating event for the Jewish people, leading to the scattering of survivors, and ending a key era in Judaism.

It’s precisely this terrifying event that Jesus is warning of in today’s gospel (Luke 21:5-19). “The days will come when there will not be left
a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” Imagine standing there today and seeing these huge boulders, still broken and scattered from the terrible Roman-Jewish War of 70AD.

We know so little of what became of those disciples to whom Jesus spoke these eerily prophetic words. Tradition says that all but John were martyred, although scripture only tells of the deaths of the two men named James.

Was it troublesome to the early Church to witness the deaths of the eyewitnesses? Doesn’t Jesus promise that “not a hair on your head will be destroyed”? The earliest Christians knew that the Crucified One rose from the grave, and they understood that the martyrs would share the same victory.

No need to worry, though. This was all 2,000 years ago. Except that Jesus also says, “There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues from place to place.”

How do you live in joyful hope of the Kingdom of God?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Jn. 2: 13-32

This is interesting. Last week, the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time was preempted by the beautiful Commemoration of All Souls. But this week, the Thirty-Second Sunday is preempted by a building? Ah, but it’s not just any building. Since the fourth century, the Church has reserved November 9th—even if it falls on a Sunday near the end of Ordinary Time—for the Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome.

I always thought there must have been a saint named John Lateran. Wrong. There’s a basilica built on the Lateran hill in Rome, named for Saint John. Taking some time to glance at today’s readings helps to make sense of why this church is considered so sacred. The scriptures are overflowing — like the life-giving river that flows from the Temple to the sea in Ezekiel’s vision today — with imagery of buildings. The Temple, in particular, is the most sacred of all buildings.

And yet, Jesus says that HE is the Temple. His listeners took him literally, of course, and didn’t understand until after the Resurrection that when he said, “Destroy this Temple and in three days I will raise it up,” he was talking about his own death and resurrection.

And here’s the thing. It’s not just Jesus who is the new Temple. St. Paul says, “The Temple of God, which you are, is holy.” This is why the remembrance of the dedication of this basilica is so precious that we interrupt Ordinary Time to commemorate it. This basilica is the “mother Church,” not just for the pope but for the whole world, and we are its living stones.

We are the foundation. Stand strong.

When in your week do you stand strong for your faith?

Kathy McGovern ©2025

Reflecting on Romans 5: 5-11

Hope does not disappoint. I believe this with all my heart. And St. Paul believed it, even as he wrote to the many Christians in Rome who longed for his visit. Those same Christians may have suffered the same martyrdom as Paul, who had been a prisoner in Caesaria before being taken in chains to Rome.

From whence do those who suffer from painful illnesses, or devastating losses, summon the faith and joy to say with confidence that hope does not disappoint? Their witness to this most basic tenet of faith fills us with hope, too, and then our witness strengthens those around us.

This is the scripture to take to the cemeteries today as we remember our beloved dead. As you drive around, take in all the love of those who buried their precious loves there. We assent to St. Paul’s exhortation, and believe that all these believers found their hope realized, in ways they could never have imagined.

The souls of the just are in the hand of God. Imagine being held, carefully and lovingly, in the hand of God. And cast that vision over the cemetery, over all the graves, many of them hundreds of years old. Pray for each person there, and announce Paul’s words: Hope does not disappoint.

We don’t have to wait until death to experience hope satisfied. There is some tiny glimmer of hope for peace in the Middle East. There are victories over headaches, severe colds, and even once-fatal diseases. There are restored relationships that once seemed terminal. In each of these, we have reason to hope.

Hold fast to hope. It’s your entrée into the heart of God.

In what area of your life do you need the grace to hope?

Kathy McGovern ©2025