Reflection for July 6, 2025

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Isaiah 66:10-14c | Psalm 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20 | Galatians 6:14-18 | Luke 10:1-12, 17-20

​Cars play a vital role in our daily lives. They bring us to work, school, appointments—helping us meet responsibilities, stay on schedule, and care for those we love. More than that, they carry us to places where memories are made: family vacations, road trips with friends, journeys marked by laughter, storytelling, and joy. They allow us to respond swiftly in times of need—to run errands, rush to emergencies, or offer help to a neighbor. Over time, a car becomes more than a machine; it becomes woven into our life’s journey. ​​On this Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, we turn to the familiar image of a car to reflect on the deeper journey God calls us to. He doesn’t just want us to go through life—He wants us to travel with Him. To move with purpose, toward healing, peace, and our true home. May we ask for the grace not just to travel, but to arrive where He lovingly leads us: into the joy of His Kingdom.

Ronald didn’t think his car was that dirty—until he returned from the grocery and saw "WASH ME, I’M BEGGING YOU" etched across the windshield. Underneath it, another hand had added, "Send help. I can’t see where I’m going." A third scribble chimed in: "Is this a car or a chalkboard?" Mortified, Ronald tried wiping it off with a grocery receipt, only for a passing kid to yell, “Look, Mom! He’s drawing again!” That was it. He peeled out of the parking lot in shame… only to discover someone had written “FREE COFFEE INSIDE” on the rear window—with an arrow pointing to his gas tank. Ronald went straight to the carwash, no questions asked.

Sometimes, life feels like a long, exhausting drive—down muddy roads, under relentless rain, with potholes that shake our very souls. And we ask, “Lord, are You still with me?” But our first reading assures us: yes, God is near. Like a mother who tenderly comforts her child, He sees our weariness and offers us rest. His love is like a carwash after a storm. When we bring Him our dirt—our doubts, pain, and fatigue—He washes us clean. But He does more than that. He renews our strength. He fills us with peace. Just as we leave a carwash feeling refreshed, God restores us so we can continue the journey. So if you’re feeling unseen or burdened today, come. Let Him meet you there. He is the One who heals, restores, and never grows tired of loving you. What matters most in life is not the year, make, or model—but the mileage. You could drive the most expensive car in the world and never truly go anywhere. Yet someone with an old, worn-down vehicle may have traveled through valleys, storms, and winding roads—carrying love, courage, and faith every mile of the way. 

Every morning, Sara revved her shiny red Ferrari like she was entering a Formula 1 race—only to drive 500 meters to his office. “Luxury and power,” she’d brag, parking diagonally across two slots. One day, Leni arrived in her beat-up Toyota Vios, bumper held by duct tape. Sara scoffed, “That thing still runs?” Leni grinned, patted a dent. “Each one’s a badge of honor. This baby’s seen Luzon traffic, Visayas ferry lines, and Mindanao potholes. These aren’t dents—they’re tiger stripes!” Then she added, “How’s the Ferrari doing in the wild streets of... Barangay Manresa Main Road?” Sara didn’t answer. She was still Googling if Ferrari sells snorkels for flash floods.

In the second reading, St. Paul reminds us: appearances mean little—what truly matters is the transformation that comes from the Cross. This life is not without sorrow, but every mile of suffering endured with Jesus is a mile toward Heaven. Christ did not come to do away with suffering; He did not come to explain it; He came to fill it with His presence. The Cross is not a burden to hide, but a compass that points us home. So don’t be ashamed of your scars, your detours, your spiritual mileage. Rejoice, because every hardship shared with Christ becomes part of His mission. And every mile walked in love brings us closer to the joy that awaits.
Enrico packed everything for the road trip—pillows, snacks, three power banks, even a waffle maker. But halfway through, he couldn’t find the map under the mess. Mary Jane laughed, “Love, you packed the house, not just the car!” Later, a young girl tapped the window, offering sampaguita. Enrico paused, smiled, and bought two. A few kilometers ahead, they pulled over to help a motorist change a flat tire. Then, at a stoplight in the rain, Enrico rolled down the window and handed a traffic enforcer a spare raincoat. By the time they reached their destination, the trunk was lighter, but their hearts were full. They realized—traveling light helps you see people, not just the road. And that’s what makes the journey matter.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus sends His disciples out with a radical command: travel light. No bags, no sandals, no backup plan—just trust. Just the mission. Just love. Life, like a journey, isn’t about flashy accessories, tinted windows, or polished exteriors. What truly matters is who rides with you, and the moments you share. A simple car that safely brings loved ones to their destination is far more valuable than a showy one that never moves. Our spiritual life is no different. It’s not about what we own—it’s about what we give, and who we bless along the way. As St. Teresa of Calcutta once said, “Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” So travel light. Hold loosely to the things of this world. Fill your heart, not your trunk, with love. We are just passing through these roads—our true destination is Heaven. So keep going. Love deeply. Share joy. And never lose sight of home.

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