Tria Via

Tag: Pray

  • Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

    Jump to: Lens | Reflection Prompts | Weekly Practice

    First Reading: Ezekiel 47:1-2, 8-9, 12
    Psalm: Psalm 46:2-3, 5-6, 8-9
    Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 3:9c-11, 16-17

    Gospel: John 2:13-22

    Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem.
    He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep, and doves, as well as the money-changers seated there.
    He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and spilled the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables, and to those who sold doves he said,
    “Take these out of here, and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.”
    His disciples recalled the words of Scripture, Zeal for your house will consume me.
    At this the Jews answered and said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered and said to them, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.”
    The Jews said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years,
    and you will raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking about the temple of his Body.
    Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the Scripture and the word Jesus had spoken.

    Anchor Verse

    “Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” – 1 Corinthians 3:16

    ornamental dome with mosaic and fresco paintings in basilica
    Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com

    🔎 Lens: Living Stones

    Today we celebrate the Lateran Basilica, the Pope’s cathedral in Rome. Not St. Peter’s, though that’s where the big events happen. The Lateran is the “mother and head of all churches,”¹ dedicated in 324 AD on land Constantine gave to the Church. It’s been destroyed by earthquakes, fires, and attacks. Each time, rebuilt. It stands as a symbol of unity, the visible center of the Church’s communion with the Pope and with each other.²

    But here’s what matters most: this feast isn’t really about a building.

    The Catechism teaches that when the faithful assemble, they are the “living stones,” gathered to be “built into a spiritual house.” The Body of the risen Christ is the spiritual temple from which the source of living water springs forth. Incorporated into Christ by the Holy Spirit, “we are the temple of the living God.”³

    The Church is the Temple of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is the soul, as it were, of the Mystical Body, the source of its life, of its unity in diversity, and of the riches of its gifts and charisms.⁴

    In today’s Gospel, Jesus cleansed the temple in Jerusalem, driving out those who made it a marketplace. His disciples remembered: “Zeal for your house will consume me.” When the Jews demanded a sign, Jesus said, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” They thought He meant Herod’s temple, forty-six years in the making. But He spoke of the temple of His Body.⁵

    After the Resurrection, the disciples understood. The new Temple is not a building. It’s Christ Himself. And by extension, us. Christ is the true Temple of God. By grace, Christians also become temples of the Holy Spirit, living stones out of which the Church is built.⁶

    The stunning beauty of a church building, even one as magnificent as the Lateran Basilica, is no match for the glory of the Risen Jesus living in each one of us as members of His Body.⁷

    Reflection Prompts

    1. When you enter your church building, what do you notice? Do you see it as holy space, or just familiar furniture? How might it change things if you saw the people gathered there as more sacred than the building itself?
    2. “You are the temple of God.” What does that mean for how you treat your body this week? Your thoughts? Your time?
    3. Jesus drove out those who made the temple a marketplace. What commercial noise has crept into your spiritual life? Where have you traded encounter for transaction?
    4. The Lateran has been destroyed and rebuilt multiple times. Where in your life do you need rebuilding right now? What would it look like to let the Holy Spirit be the architect?

    Weekly Practice

    At Mass

    This Sunday, before Mass begins, pause. Look around at the people gathered. Not the building. The people. These are living stones. This is the temple. You’re standing inside the Body of Christ. Notice what that does to how you pray.

    After Mass

    This week, practice custody of the senses. Before you consume something (scroll social media, turn on a show, click a link, pick up your phone), pause for three seconds and ask: “Is this worthy of the temple I am?”

    Not as self-condemnation. As self-respect. The Spirit of God dwells in you. Act like you believe it.

    If you find yourself in a conversation that’s turning into gossip or complaint this week, try this: stay silent for a beat longer than feels natural. Let the silence be your way of honoring the temple. See if it shifts the direction of the talk.

    Dismissal

    The Lateran Basilica stands because people kept rebuilding it. Earthquakes. Fires. Bombs. Each time, rebuilt.

    You’re a living stone in the temple God is building. The fact that you’re here means the construction is still happening.

    See you next Sunday.

  • 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)

    Jump to: Lens | Reflection Prompts | Weekly Practice

    First Reading: Wisdom 11:22-12:2
    Psalm: 145:1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14
    Second Reading: 2 Thessalonians 1:11-2:2

    Gospel: Luke 19:1-10

    He entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax-collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycomore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’ So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, ‘He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner.’ Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, ‘Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much.’ Then Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and save the lost.’

    Anchor Verse

    “When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.’” — Luke 19:5

    brown and silver cross table decor
    Photo by Michael Morse on Pexels.com

    🔎 Lens: The Two Gazes

    At the center of the Zacchaeus story is the verb “to seek.” Zacchaeus sought to see who Jesus was, and Jesus declares that the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.1 But notice the order: the first gaze is not that of Zacchaeus, but of Jesus. The merciful gaze of the Lord reaches us before we ourselves realize our need of being saved.2

    When the Gospel says Jesus looked up at Zacchaeus in the tree, it presents a beautiful image: if Jesus has to look up, it means he is looking at Zacchaeus from below. This is the history of salvation. God has never looked down on us to humiliate and judge us. On the contrary, He lowered Himself to the point of washing our feet, looking at us from below and restoring our dignity to us.3

    Zacchaeus was a publican, indeed the head of the publicans of Jericho. The publicans were tax collectors who collected the tribute that the Jews had to pay to the Roman Emperor, and already for this reason they were considered public sinners. What is more, they often took advantage of their position to extort money from the people. 4 He was rich but despised. When Jesus stopped at his house, it caused a scandal.

    Yet Jesus wanted, so to speak, to gamble, and he won the bet. Zacchaeus, deeply moved by Jesus’ visit, decided to change his life, and promised to restore four times what he had stolen. “Today salvation has come to this house,” Jesus says.5

    Zacchaeus welcomed Jesus and converted because Jesus first welcomed him. He did not condemn him but he met his desire for salvation.6 The encounter led to concrete restitution. The Catechism teaches that in virtue of commutative justice, reparation for injustice committed requires the restitution of stolen goods to their owner. Jesus blesses Zacchaeus for his pledge: “If I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.”7

    Conversion is not just interior feeling. Encountering Love, discovering that he is loved despite his sins, Zacchaeus becomes capable of loving others, turning money from a source of sin to a sign of solidarity and communion.8

    Reflection Prompts

    1. Zacchaeus climbed a tree to see Jesus, making himself look foolish. What small risk might you take this week to get a better view of Christ? Where have you stopped trying because you’re worried about looking ridiculous?
    2. Jesus called Zacchaeus by name. When have you felt known by God, not just seen? What does it mean that Jesus seeks you before you fully realize you need seeking?
    3. The crowd grumbled that Jesus went to stay with “a sinner.” Who in your life might you be writing off as beyond reach? What would it look like to see them the way Jesus sees Zacchaeus?
    4. Zacchaeus immediately promised concrete restitution. If conversion led to repair in your life, what would need to be made right? Is there someone you’ve wronged who deserves more than an apology?

    Weekly Practice

    At Mass

    During the Gospel proclamation, listen for Jesus calling Zacchaeus by name. Notice your interior response when you hear: “I must stay at your house today.” Does that invitation feel like gift or intrusion? Stay curious about your reaction.

    After Mass

    This week, practice the gaze that restores dignity. When you interact with someone, especially someone you find difficult or frustrating, pause before speaking. Imagine Jesus looking at them from below, not to humiliate but to restore. Let that shift what you say next.

    If there’s someone you’ve wronged and it’s been weighing on you, take one concrete step toward making it right. Not just an apology. Restitution. Even if it’s incomplete, even if it costs something. Zacchaeus didn’t wait for permission. He just moved.

    Dismissal

    Zacchaeus climbed a tree, and salvation came to his house that day. Not because he was worthy. Because Jesus looked up and said, “I must stay with you.”

    You’ve heard the story again. Now live it. Take the risk. Accept the invitation. Make the repair.

    See you next Sunday.

  • 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year C)

    Jump to: Lens | Reflection Prompts | Weekly Practice

    First Reading: Sirach 35:12-14, 16-18
    Psalm: 34:2-3, 17-18, 19, 23
    Second Reading: Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18

    Gospel: Luke 18:9-14

    He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and despised others: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

    Anchor Verse

    But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner! — Luke 18:13

    white tealight candles lit during nighttime
    Photo by Zac Frith on Pexels.com

    🔎 Lens: The Prayer That Reached Heaven

    Two men. Same temple. Same hour. Both came to pray.

    But only one prayer reached God.

    Pope Francis, reflecting on this parable, showed us what makes the difference: “The prayer of the Pharisee begins in this way: ‘God, I thank you.’ This is a great beginning, because the best prayer is that of gratitude, that of praise. Immediately, though, we see the reason why he gives thanks: ‘that I am not like other men.’”

    The Pharisee stood in front, boasting about his fasting and tithing. “But he forgets the greatest commandment: to love God and our neighbour. Brimming with self-assurance about his own ability to keep the commandments, his own merits and virtues, he is focused only on himself. The tragedy of this man is that he is without love.”

    The tax collector couldn’t even lift his eyes. He beat his breast and prayed simply: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

    Pope Francis identified what the tax collector understood: “The prayer of the tax collector helps us understand what is pleasing to God. He does not begin from his own merits but from his shortcomings; not from his riches but from his poverty… He felt a poverty of life, because we never live well in sin.”

    The contrast is stark. While the Pharisee “stood in front on his feet,” the tax collector “stood far off and ‘would not even lift up his eyes to heaven,’ because he believed that God is indeed great, while he knew himself to be small.”

    Jesus’ verdict shocked His listeners: the religious insider went home empty; the sinner went home forgiven. Pope Francis explained why: “The tax collector who exploited others admitted being poor before God, and the Lord heard his prayer, a mere seven words but an expression of heartfelt sincerity.”

    God doesn’t respond to our resumes. He responds to our honesty.

    Source: https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/homilies/2019/documents/papa-francesco_20191027_omelia-sinodovescovi-conclusione.html

    Reflection Prompts

    1. The Pharisee listed all his good deeds when he prayed. When you pray, do you find yourself explaining to God why you’re doing okay? What would it feel like to just come to Him without any explanations?
    2. The Pharisee compared himself to the tax collector to feel better about himself. Have you ever caught yourself thinking “at least I’m not like that person”? What changes when you stop comparing and just stand before God as you are?
    3. The tax collector couldn’t even look up. Have you ever felt too ashamed or messy to pray? What if God was actually waiting for you to come to Him just like that?
    4. Jesus told this parable to people “who trusted in themselves that they were righteous.” Where do you put your confidence—in the good things you do, or in God’s mercy? What’s the difference between those two?

    Weekly Practice

    At Mass

    During the Penitential Act at the beginning of Mass (when we say “I confess…” or “Lord have mercy”), pay attention to what’s happening in your heart:

    • Are you going through the motions, or actually confessing?
    • Are you thinking about your sins, or mentally listing why you’re doing better than last week?
    • When you strike your breast and say “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault”—do you mean it, or are you just keeping up with the liturgy?

    This week, mean it. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Especially if it’s uncomfortable.

    You’re training yourself to stand where the tax collector stood.

    After Mass

    The tax collector’s prayer was: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

    This week, pray those words—or something close to them—at least once a day. Out loud if you can. Before breakfast, before bed, in the car, wherever.

    Not as a formula. As the truth.

    Don’t add anything. Don’t explain yourself. Don’t list what you’ve been working on. Don’t compare yourself to anyone else.

    Just stand there, like the tax collector, and tell God the truth: you need mercy.

    Variations you might pray:

    • “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
    • “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” (The Jesus Prayer)
    • “God, I have nothing to offer but my need. Be merciful.”

    You’re not trying to feel a certain way. You’re not trying to manufacture humility. You’re just telling the truth about who you are and who God is.

    The one who went home justified didn’t have a long prayer. He had an honest one.

    That’s what you’re learning this week.