feasting on the word
"If you meditate on the Scriptures it will appear to you in its brilliant splendor." ― St. Pio of Pietrelcina
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Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time (C) Habakkuk 1:2-3; 2:2-4 | Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9 | 2 Timothy 1:6-8, 13-14 | Luke 17:5-10 Today’s readings for the Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time touch on faith, frustration, and the question of what’s “enough.” In Habakkuk, we hear a prophet openly complaining to God. In Timothy, we see encouragement given to a community struggling with fear. And in the Gospel, the apostles admit they want more faith than what they currently have. One summer, friends Jimmy, Joe, and Dina went sailing in Subic Bay. Not long into the trip, Joe started feeling sick and began throwing up. Dina tried to help, but soon she felt queasy herself. Jimmy just laughed—he knew a simple trick about sailing that many people don’t. When you’re out in salt water, there are two things you should do: sip a little of it and wash your face and hair with it. Experienced sailors know this helps, but Jimmy also knew something even more important. When the waves are rising twelve to fourteen feet, rocking the boat up and down, the best thing you can do is fix your eyes on something steady. And in life, when you’re caught in your own storms, that “something steady” is God. If you keep your eyes on Him, even when everything around you is tossing and turning, you’ll find your footing.
The prophet Habakkuk lived around the same time as Jeremiah, during a period of great turmoil. He faced the looming threat of the Babylonians, who were about to invade Judah. Sure enough, at the end of the sixth century BC, Nebuchadnezzar and his army captured Jerusalem in 586 BC. God had already revealed to Habakkuk that Judah’s sins would bring judgment, and this time, it was too late for national repentance. Instead of calling the people to turn back, Habakkuk foretold both Judah’s destruction and, later on, the downfall of Babylon itself. Yet in the middle of all this grim news, God gave a word of hope: the faithful must remain patient and trust in Him. The only way to endure judgment and find life is through faith. So even if disaster was certain for the nation, there was still hope for individuals who held firmly to God. In other words, “Those who keep their trust in the Lord will find hope, even as calamity comes.” Senator Mark Hatfield once toured Calcutta with Mother Teresa. He visited the “House of the Dying,” where children spent their last days, and the dispensary, where hundreds of the poor waited in line for medicine. As he watched Mother Teresa tenderly feeding the abandoned and nursing those left to die, he was struck by the sheer weight of the suffering she faced every single day. Finally, overwhelmed, he asked her, “Mother, how can you possibly carry such a burden without being crushed by it?” Mother Teresa looked at him and answered gently, “My dear Senator, God did not call me to be successful. He called me to be faithful.” After Paul’s release from the Roman imprisonment we read about at the end of Acts, he had a few more years of freedom before being arrested again and thrown back into a Roman prison. It was during this second imprisonment that Paul wrote his final letter—to Timothy, who at the time was feeling discouraged and intimidated. Paul, knowing his life was almost over, wrote with striking honesty: “The time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” In this passage from 2 Timothy, Paul urges Christian ministers to remain faithful. Accepting the call to ministry means receiving the gift of the Spirit, and it is the Spirit who gives strength and perseverance for the hard road ahead. Paul’s message is clear: ministry is not easy, but God equips His servants to endure. Not long after writing these words, Paul was condemned under Nero and executed in Rome. His life ended, but his legacy of faithfulness carried on through Timothy and those who came after. There’s a story about a dad on vacation with his family who spotted a huge sign that read, “Road Closed. Do Not Enter.” But did that stop him? Of course not. With full confidence—and a little too much faith—he drove right past it, assuring his family, “Don’t worry, we walk by faith, not by sight!” His wife wasn’t exactly thrilled about this “shortcut,” but there was no turning back for our fearless road warrior. For a while, everything seemed fine. In fact, after a few miles of smooth driving, he started bragging about his sharp instincts and superior sense of direction. That smug grin, however, quickly turned into nervous sweat when the road ended at—yep—a completely washed-out bridge. Sheepishly, he turned the car around and headed back the way they came. And when they finally got back to the original sign, there it was in giant letters on the back: “Welcome back, idiot!" In Luke’s Gospel, the apostles come across as a little confused about faith. They know they need more of it, but they’re not really sure what it is or how it works. And honestly, that’s a temptation we all face—to think of faith as something complicated or flashy. Like it’s some special skill you have to master, or a trophy you need to keep upgrading. But Jesus cuts through all that. He shows them that faith is actually simple. It grows when we serve others. It deepens when we love—not just our family and friends, but even strangers. Real faith isn’t selfish; it doesn’t ask, “What’s in it for me?” Instead, it seeks to obey God and give freely. Faith stays humble, admitting, “We’re only doing what we were supposed to do.” And here’s the kicker: the power of faith isn’t about how big it is, but how real it is. Jesus says even faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. In other words, you don’t need a truckload of faith—you just need enough to trust God and act on it. Sure, faith can grow and mature, but it’s not some spiritual arms race. What matters most is that it’s alive, humble, and put into practice. <enrique,ofs>
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About JeffJeff Jacinto, PhD, DHum |