Praying to the Father in the Son

July 5, 2026 Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) Readings for Today

Christ with Children by Lawrence OP, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. Video At that time Jesus exclaimed: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” Matthew 11:25–27 This passage beautifully summarizes the entire Christian life—the life to which we are called and in which we find our purpose, meaning, and ultimate fulfillment. Jesus begins by offering praise to the “Father, Lord of heaven and earth.” Though Jesus Himself is fully God, “one in being with the Father”—co-eternal and consubstantial—He nevertheless offers praise to the Father. In the original Greek, the phrase “I give praise to you…” (exomologoumai) indicates an open, public, and full acknowledgment by the Son of the Father’s sovereignty and gracious will. The Father is the All-Powerful Lord of all that exists—everything in the heavens and on earth. Jesus expresses this fundamental stance toward the Father for two reasons: first, because it is eternally true; and second, so that we might humble ourselves and join Him in praying the same prayer—through, with, and in Jesus. This prayer closely parallels the opening of the Lord’s Prayer (the “Our Father”), because both begin with a direct acknowledgment and praise of the Father’s holiness and sovereignty. The Lord’s Prayer is the perfect prayer precisely because it was given to us by Jesus Himself. After addressing the Father, it presents seven petitions. According to Saints Thomas Aquinas and Augustine, the first two petitions—“hallowed be Thy name” and “Thy Kingdom come”—reveal the central purpose of our lives: to glorify God eternally and to be caught up in, and actively participate in that glory by becoming full members of His Kingdom. In today’s prayer, Jesus says “these things” have been revealed “to little ones” and that the Son can choose to reveal the Father to whom He wishes. We are drawn into Jesus’ prayer and intimate relationship with the Father precisely when Jesus reveals the Father to us: “No one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.” Because Jesus deeply desires that we come to know and love the Father with the same love He has for Him, His prayer continues by gently inviting us—especially when burdened by weariness, weakness, or sin—to lay our burdens down before His merciful power and glory: “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). This tender invitation reveals Jesus’ deepest desire for us: that we would enter into His love for the Father, share intimately in the union between Father and Son, and thus magnify and glorify the Most Holy Trinity—not only in our earthly journey but eternally in Heaven. Indeed, what a sublime and glorious calling we have received! Reflect today upon this beautiful prayer, knowing in your heart that Jesus Himself invites you to pray it with Him, through Him, and in Him. He longs for His voice to resonate within your voice, His love to beat within your heart, and His holy desires to shape your own. Turn your gaze toward the Father—He who is both the Source and ultimate goal of your existence—and strive lovingly and humbly to accomplish all things according to His gracious and holy will. Our Father, You who dwell in the heavens and within the souls of Your sanctified ones, may Your eternal essence, Your holy Name—the One who was, who is, and who is to come, the Great I AM—be honored, praised, and glorified forever. May this glorification shine forth in my life and in the lives of all Your faithful, as we await with joyful hope the return in glory of Your Son, Jesus our Savior, when You, together with Him and the Holy Spirit, will establish the New Heavens and the New Earth. Jesus, I trust in You.

The Eternal Marriage to Come

Saturday, July 4, 2026 Saturday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time Readings for Today Independence Day—USA Optional Memorial Saint Elizabeth of Portugal—Optional Memorial (Celebrated July 5 in the USA)

Word on the Mountain, by Vukkostic Video The disciples of John approached Jesus and said, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast much, but your disciples do not fast?” Jesus answered them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” Matthew 9:14–15 In Isaiah 54:5 and Hosea 2:16–20, God is portrayed as the divine Bridegroom who espouses Israel. By invoking this imagery, Jesus reveals His divine identity as the Bridegroom who establishes a new relationship between God and His people—a relationship initially characterized by joy, intimacy, and celebration rather than sorrow. However, Jesus quickly adds a sobering note: “The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” This verse points directly to His coming Passion and death, and to our interior participation in His Passion. It is for those moments that fasting produces a necessary preparation for the sense of loss and sacrifice we are called to make throughout life. Everyone loves a wedding, especially when celebrated by faith-filled people who anticipate a fruitful life together. As the bride walks down the aisle, her face radiates joy, and the groom waits eagerly at the altar. A holy marriage reflects the ultimate destiny of Christ and His Bride, the Church. Fidelity, unity, fruitfulness, consolation, and permanence are all aspects of the communion we are invited to share with our loving God. These beautiful aspects of marriage prophetically anticipate what is to come, especially when the Bridegroom returns in glory to usher in the New Heavens and the New Earth. They also represent what we are invited to experience, by grace, during our earthly pilgrimage toward the final union in Heaven—a relationship with God that is grounded in joy, intimacy, and celebration. During this pilgrimage, the Bridegroom is at times “taken away.” Spiritually speaking, this means that Christ occasionally permits His consoling presence to be withdrawn from the soul. He does this not because He abandons us, but because, in His wisdom, He desires our growth in virtue, faith, and spiritual maturity through trials. Such purification is our participation in Christ’s Passion, which both cleanses and restores the soul, transforming us into the new creation we are called to be by fully dying with and in Christ, so as to share in His new life. When the sensible consolations of grace diminish, the soul experiences spiritual fasting. Although initially painful, this fasting instills a greater urgency to seek Christ through deeper prayer. If we continually felt God’s consoling presence, our love might become self-centered—loving God only because He comforts us. In the Old Testament, fasting primarily expressed external repentance. Jesus transforms fasting into a spiritual exercise that strengthens the soul during trials, dryness, and loss. Habitual fasting, such as weekly abstinence, disciplines our interior life, enabling us to love God even when consolation is absent. When the Bridegroom is “taken away,” our spiritual senses sharpen, and our longing for Christ grows more fervent. Thus, Christ’s apparent absence becomes an opportunity for greater intimacy, guiding us toward a more profound, selfless love—seeking Christ Himself purely for His sake. Reflect today on how you respond when God seems distant. Do you turn toward Him with increased trust and prayer, or do you withdraw? When God seems distant or when your prayer feels dry, do you recognize the value in those moments? Resolve to engage in forms of physical fasting and other penitential acts as a way of training yourself to enter spiritual fasting with hope and strength. Let spiritual fasting become an act of pure love, preparing your heart for the eternal marriage feast to come. My Lord and Bridegroom of the Church, You call each of us, Your sons and daughters, into an eternal marriage of pure union and fidelity with You. Form and purify me by allowing me to share in Your Passion, so that my love may become holy, and I may love You with the same love with which You love me. Jesus, I trust in You.

Faith Born of Encounter

Friday, July 3, 2026

Feast of Saint Thomas the Apostle

Readings for Today

St Thomas by Lawrence OP, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Video

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:24–25

Though Saint Thomas is best remembered for doubting Jesus’ Resurrection, God used him in glorious ways. Because God is all-powerful, even Thomas’ doubt was transformed into a source of grace for the Church and a model of true faith and conversion. In Thomas, we see the journey from doubt to faith, from absence to confession, from fear to peace—an invitation for each of us to make the same journey.

Saint Thomas, called Didymus—meaning “Twin”—was not present when the risen Christ first appeared to the assembled Apostles. His absence was no accident but part of God’s providential plan. When the other disciples testified, “We have seen the Lord,” Thomas struggled to believe. His absence symbolizes the effect of isolation from the Church or from an active life of prayer, which can leave us vulnerable to doubt and disbelief. His heart demanded tangible proof: “Unless I see the mark of the nails… I will not believe.” In this, Thomas articulates a cry that echoes in every human heart: we long for certainty, yet struggle to trust without the proof we demand.

One week later—on the day now celebrated as Divine Mercy Sunday—Jesus once again entered the locked room and stood among them, radiating peace: “Peace be with you.” His first words were directed not to the whole group, but to Thomas, addressing his wounded faith with tender love: “Put your finger here and see my hands… bring your hand and put it into my side.” Jesus does not shame Thomas; He invites him. He invites him to touch the very wounds that conquered death, to enter into the mystery of Divine Mercy not only intellectually, but physically and spiritually.

After being confronted by the Living Christ, Thomas is transformed. In that pivotal moment, he prays one of the greatest confessions of faith in all of Scripture: “My Lord and my God!” With profound clarity, he proclaims the divinity of Christ. The doubting disciple becomes the believing Apostle, who will later be sent forth to bear witness to the ends of the earth.

Thomas’ journey invites us to reflect on our own. Like Thomas, we are sometimes absent from encounters with the risen Lord. Failure to pray daily, to attend Mass faithfully, to confess our sins, to nourish our souls through spiritual reading, adoration, retreats, or parish missions can isolate us from Christ and diminish our faith. Absence from these means of grace can open the door to spiritual doubt and weakness.

If these struggles are familiar to you, take heart in the example of Saint Thomas. If your faith has faltered—especially if you experience serious doubts—or if worldly concerns have drawn you away from the life of grace, then let Thomas’ prayer become your own: “My Lord and my God!” He professed faith in what he saw, so that we might profess faith in Christ whom we do not yet see. That simple little prayer, prayed with the certainty of faith and with sincere passion in the heart, sparks greater faith and brings us the clarity we need.

Reflect today on Thomas being absent from Jesus’ first Resurrection appearance on Easter Sunday. Try to feel his disappointment and doubt. Thomas carried those feelings for an entire week until Jesus appeared again. See yourself in him by identifying any times you have felt the same. Then move forward to the moment, one week later, when Thomas was present as Jesus appeared to them. With him, listen to Jesus invite you to touch His wounds. Profess with Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” Repeat that prayer and try to sense Thomas’ newfound passionate belief. It is that belief our Lord desires from all of us who do not see with our eyes but come to know Him in our spirit.

My Lord and my God! I do believe in You and profess that belief with all my heart. When I struggle with my faith, when I falter, or when I become distracted from my life of prayer and devotion, please remind me of Saint Thomas. Place his words repeatedly on my lips so that I may continuously cry out with him, “My Lord and my God!” Saint Thomas, pray for us. Jesus, I trust in You.

Out of the Ordinary

July 2, 2026
Thursday of the Thirteenth Week in Ordinary Time
Readings for Today

Christ Healing the Lame Man, by Jacopo Bassano

Video

After entering a boat, Jesus made the crossing, and came into his own town. And there people brought to him a paralytic lying on a stretcher. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Courage, child, your sins are forgiven.” Matthew 9:1–2

After making a quick trip across the Sea of Galilee to deliver two men from demonic possession, Jesus and the disciples return to Jesus’ “own town,” likely Capernaum, the fishing village and hometown of Peter, Andrew, James and John, and probably Matthew, whom Jesus had not yet called to be an Apostle.

Though the Gospels say little about Jesus’ ordinary daily life in Capernaum, it is clear that this small town served as a center for His Galilean ministry, becoming the crossroads where ordinary human lives intersected with extraordinary divine grace. Few in Capernaum could have realized that their village would become the center for the unfolding of God’s promise of salvation, from which the teachings of the Messiah would go forth to the world.

Though Jesus’ act of forgiving the paralytic’s sins in today’s Gospel, followed by his miraculous healing, holds great significance, equally important is the setting in which these actions took place. Capernaum, in many ways, represents our hometowns, homes, daily lives, occupations, communities, and families. The Son of God’s entrance into our world did not take place in a visibly magnificent way; it was humble, hidden, and ordinary. Beginning in Bethlehem, Jesus’ birth took place within a dwelling for animals, and He was laid in a feeding trough. Shortly afterward, He narrowly escaped death from Herod, becoming a refugee in Egypt as an infant. Later, Jesus was raised in Nazareth—a small town viewed as insignificant by the wider Judean and Galilean communities. He learned carpentry from Joseph, made pilgrimages to Jerusalem for the Jewish feasts, and lived like any other child and young man.

Even after Jesus began His public ministry, He continued to live a humble and simple life. He was a wandering preacher, traveling on foot through many towns and villages with a band of disciples. He relied on providence for food and shelter, owned little Himself, and related compassionately with people of every status and background.

To the ordinary eye, Jesus was an ordinary man. To the eyes of the Father, He was the Divine Son, cloaked in humility, whose true glory remained hidden from many eyes.

Jesus’ humble, simple, and ordinary life was significant. The Father could have sent His Son into royal splendor and worldly power, establishing Him as an earthly king admired by all. Yet, He chose humility because by embracing the ordinariness of daily life, Jesus sanctified human existence, transforming everyday tasks and encounters into pathways toward union with Him. When we engage in ordinary things in union with Jesus’ life—with His virtue, diligence, dedication, care, and generosity—our daily activities become infused with extraordinary grace.

By becoming the crossroads where ordinary human lives intersect with extraordinary divine grace, we are invited to see every ordinary part of our lives in the same way the people of Capernaum encountered Jesus’ extraordinary grace. Jesus is waiting for us around every corner, in every conversation, duty, and activity. Like in Capernaum, He remains cloaked in humility, often veiled from immediate recognition. With faith, we must discern Him in the ordinary, recognize His humble presence, love Him, and follow Him.

Reflect today on the people of Capernaum and see yourself among them. How would you have reacted to someone who seemed so ordinary yet taught, forgave, and healed with such grace? That same Lord is present all around us in our daily lives, no matter how ordinary they might appear. Look for Him, invite Him into your “town,” and allow Him to sanctify your daily work, drawing you out of the ordinary into the extraordinary life of grace.

My hidden Lord, You are present within me and all around me, yet often I fail to perceive Your humble presence in the ordinary circumstances of my daily life. Grant me the eyes of faith to recognize You, a heart eager to love You, and the strength to follow You faithfully, so that all I do may be infused with Your grace and dedicated to Your eternal glory. Jesus, I trust in You. 

Receiving and Expressing Love

June 28, 2026
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
Readings for Today

Photo by form PxHere, CC0

Video

Jesus said to his apostles: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.” Matthew 10:37–38

When a scribe approached Jesus and asked Him which of the commandments was the greatest, He replied: “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:30–31).

Today’s Gospel offers a similar teaching: We must love God above all else—even more than father, mother, son, or daughter. By contrasting love for God with love for family, Jesus is not diminishing familial affection; rather, He is revealing that the only way to truly love others is by loving God first.

Saint Thomas Aquinas teaches: “God must be loved above all things and before all others out of charity, for He is loved as the source of happiness, whereas our neighbor is loved as one who shares in that happiness along with us” (Summa Theologiae II-II, Q.26, A.2). In other words, God must be loved first because He is the ultimate cause and source of beatitude—the only true happiness. Though we are called to love our families and our neighbors, Christian charity dictates that we love them in relation to God—as fellow recipients of divine happiness.

One reason this Gospel is challenging is that our natural affections, though good, must be transformed by divine charity. It is natural to love our parents and children—God designed us with these affections. Even animals instinctively care for their offspring. But Jesus calls us to something higher: a love that is perfected by divine charity, transcending mere emotional attachment or duty. His teaching does not negate natural love; rather, it purifies, elevates, and directs it toward the highest good—God Himself.

When Jesus speaks of loving “father or mother” or “son or daughter” more than Him, He is addressing the inner conflict we sometimes experience in our emotions. When natural affection is not transformed by spiritual charity, the love we offer another can do more harm than good. Disordered affection replaces the ultimate good—God—with the lesser good of emotional attachment and human consolation. The real danger arises when our loved ones stray from God’s will, and we, out of misguided affection, affirm them in their error, thereby confirming them in a state lacking true beatitude.

The foundation of true love is this: God alone is the source of perfect happiness, for us and for our loved ones. Our belief in God transforms the way we love others. No longer do we merely seek their earthly comfort or emotional well-being; rather, we direct them to the eternal Good—God Himself—who alone fulfills every longing.

When we love God first, all our relationships are purified. Instead of loving others with human affection alone, we love them with the very love of God, seeking their ultimate good: eternal life in Him. This purified love does not exclude human affection; rather, it elevates and directs it, ensuring that our love is not merely sentimental but truly transformative through divine charity.

Reflect today on those closest to you—those whom God calls you to love with the highest form of love. Are your affections rightly ordered, or do they sometimes compete with the charity God desires to instill in you? If so, turn your heart to God. Seek to love Him above all else. Let Him become the object of your deepest love and desire. When God is first, His love will transform you from within, enabling you to love others not just with natural affection, but with the very love of Christ, leading them to the eternal joy of union with Him.

Lord of perfect charity, Your love is pure, holy, and beyond all understanding—so vast, so encompassing, that I will never fathom its depths. Draw me into this love, O Lord, that I may love You above all things. From that love, let the charity of Your Sacred Heart flow through me to others, so that in loving them, I love You. Jesus, I trust in You.

Faith Beyond Expectations

June 27, 2026
Saturday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time
Readings for TodaySaint Cyril of Alexandria, Bishop and Doctor—Optional Memorial

Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, by Carl Geyling’s Erben

Video

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” He said to him, “I will come and cure him.” The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed.” Matthew 8:5–8

From the beginning of time, God continually reached out to humanity, calling them to Himself. After the Great Flood, God established a covenant with Abram—later named Abraham—who responded in faith and obedience. God promised him that his descendants would become a great nation and that “All the families of the earth will find blessing” in him (Genesis 12:3). In today’s Gospel, we see a sign of this promise being fulfilled in the faith of the Roman centurion, a Gentile who recognizes the divine authority of Jesus. His trust in Christ foreshadows the inclusion of all nations in the blessing promised through Abraham.

At the time of Jesus, kindness between Jews and a Roman centurion was virtually unheard of. The Romans had conquered Israel, imposing their rule and extracting heavy taxes from the people. Though the Jews were allowed to continue Temple worship and practice their faith in the synagogues, many harbored deep resentment toward their Roman occupiers, longing for the day when the Messiah would come to liberate them.

When the Messiah did come, however, many of the Jewish people did not recognize Him—perhaps because their expectations were fixed on a powerful military leader who would restore Israel’s national sovereignty. Instead, Jesus came not as a warrior, but as the Lamb of God, bringing a far greater liberation: freedom from sin and death. He understood the deep-seated bitterness toward the Romans but saw beyond earthly conflicts, viewing all people through the lens of divine Wisdom.

Jesus bore no animosity toward the Romans, nor did He seek their political overthrow. Instead, He desired their conversion. While many of the Jews—including the scribes and Pharisees—viewed the Romans as enemies, Jesus extended His compassion even to them, knowing that the promise made to Abraham was not merely for one nation but for all peoples. The centurion’s faith is a sign of this unfolding fulfillment: A Gentile, once an outsider to the covenant, now stands as an example of trust and humility before the Messiah.

One of the qualities that could have enabled this Roman centurion to manifest such remarkable faith was his experience of duty and authority as a military officer. Having spent his life exercising command over others, he understood the nature of authority firsthand. He applied this natural understanding to the supernatural authority Jesus possessed. Unlike the Jewish people, the centurion likely had little or no knowledge of the Torah, salvation history, or the prophecies concerning the Messiah. Yet, when he witnessed Jesus’ miraculous power, he recognized in Him an authority far greater than that of earthly rulers. Drawing from his own experience of command—where a word spoken in authority is immediately obeyed—he concluded that Jesus, possessing divine authority, could heal his servant from a distance, merely by speaking the word.

Reflect today on the faith of the Roman centurion, whom Jesus praised above all in Israel, saying, “In no one in Israel have I found such faith” (Matthew 8:10). His trust was not based on knowledge of the Law but on a firm belief in Christ’s divine authority. Like him, we must approach Jesus with humility, acknowledging our unworthiness while having absolute confidence in His power to heal and restore our souls. While the centurion’s servant was physically healed, God wills for us whatever draws us closest to Him—whether physical healing or the deeper healing of the soul. Imitate the centurion’s unwavering faith, entrusting yourself to Christ, and He will say to you, “You may go; as you have believed, let it be done for you” (Matthew 8:13).

All-powerful Lord, You can do all things and always will what is best for us. Grant me the faith of the centurion, that I may trust in Your power—not only to heal the body but to restore the soul. May I seek Your will above all else and desire the good of others more than any earthly hope. Jesus, I trust in You.

Spiritually Cleansed and Restored

June 26, 2026
Friday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time
Readings for TodaySaint Josemaría Escrivá, Priest–Optional Memorial

Georg Pencz, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Video

When Jesus came down from the mountain, great crowds followed him. And then a leper approached, did him homage, and said, “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” He stretched out his hand, touched him, and said, “I will do it. Be made clean.” His leprosy was cleansed immediately. Matthew 8:1–3

After leading the Israelites out of Egypt, God gave Moses not only the Ten Commandments but also laws governing daily life, including regulations on ritual purity. Among these were strict laws regarding leprosy, a contagious and incurable disease at the time. Lepers were forbidden to touch anyone, were isolated from the community, barred from worship, and required to cry out “Unclean, unclean” when approaching others. Beyond preventing disease, these laws had a deeper spiritual meaning: leprosy became a symbol of sin, which defiles the soul and separates us from the holiness of God, necessitating divine purification.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus fulfills and transcends the requirements of the Mosaic Law by touching and healing a leper. Under the Law, contact with a leper rendered a person unclean, yet Christ’s divine power reverses this order. The leper’s touch does not defile Jesus; instead, it purifies the leper. In this miraculous act, Jesus reveals a deeper spiritual reality: it is only through His touch of divine grace that sinners are truly cleansed and restored to communion with God. No longer does impurity separate man from holiness; rather, in Christ, holiness overcomes impurity, offering reconciliation and healing to all who seek Him in faith.

The scene unfolds immediately after Jesus concludes His Sermon on the Mount and descends from the mountain. This imagery echoes Moses descending from Mount Sinai after receiving the Ten Commandments. Yet, while Moses brought down a law written on stone, Jesus, the new and greater Moses, descends not merely as a lawgiver but as the very embodiment of the New Covenant. In Him, the Law is not only taught but fulfilled and perfected. Whereas the Mosaic Law prescribed ritual separation from impurity, Christ now draws near to the unclean, extending the Divine Mercy that alone can fully restore and sanctify.

The leper perfectly models how we ought to approach Jesus and the New Law of grace. He does not demand healing, nor even explicitly ask for it; rather, he simply professes faith in who Jesus is and what He can do: “Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.” In addressing Jesus as “Lord,” the leper acknowledges His divine authority, recognizing Him not merely as a miracle-worker, but as the One who has dominion over sickness, impurity, and all creation. Furthermore, the leper displays not only trust in Jesus’ power but also surrender to His divine will. He does not presume to dictate the outcome but submits himself entirely to the Lord’s mercy.

Too often, we approach God with a kind of spiritual wish list, treating prayer as a means of securing our desires rather than aligning ourselves with His will. Like the leper, we must transform our prayer from self-centered petitions to acts of faith and trust. First, we acknowledge God’s sovereignty—that He alone is the all-powerful Lord, capable of healing every wound and forgiving every sin. Second, we surrender completely to His will, trusting that He knows and desires what is best for us. How beautiful it is to pray, “Lord, if You wish…” or “Lord, as You will…”—a prayer that reflects a petition Jesus had just taught on the mountain: “Thy will be done.”

Reflect today on this humble leper and the example he sets for perfect prayer. We do not need to convince God to help us; He desires it far more than we do. Call to mind those areas of your life that, like leprosy of old, separate you from God and His Church, leaving you in need of His healing grace. Entrust your wounds to the Lord with humility and trust, laying them before His mercy. Seek Him in prayer and especially in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and like the leper, you too will hear Him say, “I will do it. Be made clean.”

Lord of perfect mercy, You desire my cleansing far more than I do, and You alone can accomplish it. Like the leper, I profess my faith in You as the New Moses, the Perfect Lawgiver, and the Divine Healer. All that You say and do is holy, restoring my soul and leading me to life. I surrender myself entirely to You—my wounds, my sins, my weaknesses. Let Your will alone be done in me, O Lord, for through Your touch, I find my healing and peace. Jesus, I trust in You.