Gospel Reflection for Sunday, March 23, 2025

marzo 23, 2025

Unless you change your ways, you will all perish just as they did.

Dear brothers and sisters, peace and blessings to you.

After listening to today’s readings, we can see that there’s a common thread running through them all: God’s boundless mercy. He took care of his people, first through the patriarchs, and then through the prophets, until he sent his own Son as the ultimate sign of love. Today, he still comes to us, to give us courage. And he’s always patient, respecting our own pace.

Patience, it seems, wasn’t Moses’ strong suit. He had to flee Egypt because he killed a bully who was mistreating an Israelite. In his place of refuge, he defends some young women who were trying to water their livestock from other bullies. He couldn’t stand by and watch injustice happen. Even from afar, he kept remembering his brothers, oppressed in Egypt. That’s probably why the Lord revealed himself to him, to announce his plans for liberation.

Through the fire and the burning bush, Moses sees the closeness of his God, a God who cares for his people and has heard their cries. Moses takes off his sandals, because they’re made from the skin of an unclean animal, and he can’t enter the holy place with them on. Barefoot, he can now make contact with God. And in that way, he confirms that he’s in the presence of a revelation that comes from God, not just his imagination. He has a mission, and that mission is divine.

By revealing his name, by getting involved, the Israelites will see that God isn’t some distant being in his paradise; on the contrary, he’s very interested in what happens here on earth, he suffers with the problems and oppression of his people, and he gets involved to free them. He’s a God who carries out his plans through angels who let themselves be shaped by his Word, who have their hearts full of God, and who therefore dare to take risks. With objections, with fears, but with faith, like Moses.

There’s a long road to travel before reaching the promised land. We can’t let our guard down or relax. That’s Paul’s message to the community of Corinth, but it’s also relevant to us today. God’s grace doesn’t work automatically, like magic. We have to believe in Christ (the new Moses), be baptized (the crossing of the Red Sea), and nourished with the Eucharist (the bread and wine are the new manna and the water from the desert). All of that is essential, but we also have to live a life consistent with the values of the Gospel. Otherwise, we can get lost and not enter the promised land, like the «rebels» of Exodus. That’s why, «if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!»

Many times, like the people of Israel, we’re tempted to look back or envy how non-believers live. And we might think that what we left behind, what others do, is better than what awaits us in the promised land. We might get tired and start to doubt whether God is showing us the way or if we’re wandering aimlessly through the world, like orphans. This Lent is a good time to think about this and, if necessary, recalibrate the GPS of our hearts. Because God is waiting for us, and he expects a lot from us, so that we continue to sow hope and illusions, the Gospel and its commandments, wherever we are. We can’t just sit back, content to be branches of a leafy tree, in the shade, without being proclaimers of the Gospel we believe in. We have to be Christians on the go, «full throttle,» not half-hearted.

Christ’s words always help us understand what it means to live as true Christians. In today’s text, he interprets two events from everyday life to enlighten his listeners. And from both events—an abuse of authority (the death of some Galileans at the hands of Pontius Pilate) and an accident (the fall of a tower in Siloam, which killed eighteen people)—he draws a call to conversion, interpreting the signs of the times. How often does an illness, an accident, or a natural disaster make us experience the fragility of life? We lose a friend or a close relative, and we question many things.

There’s a Christian reading of all this, which is neither fatalistic nor rebellious against God. Death is a mystery, and it’s not God who sends it as punishment for sins, nor does he «allow» it, despite his goodness. In the divine plan, there was no place for death, but it slipped in through the misuse of human freedom. And, as always, God knows how to bring life out of death, and good out of evil. The death of Christ, clearly unjust, and all death has a mysterious but saving meaning. And with that hope, we, fragile and perishable, must convert, so that death, when it comes, finds us prepared and we can participate in the death and resurrection of Christ.

Unlike Moses, Jesus reminds us that he is patient. So, if we want to be like Jesus, we have to try to save more and condemn less. Being demanding of ourselves, to bear fruit. And being patient with others, helping them to encounter Jesus. We are children of our time, we want to see results now: for everything to be fixed in an instant, for evil to be exterminated instantly… Life isn’t like that. In nature, everything grows slowly, matures at its own pace. And we don’t always reap the desired fruit.

It would be wise, then, to adopt an attitude of active and trusting waiting, like that vinedresser in the parable. He knew how to see the possibilities of the fig tree and left the door open to the hope of an abundant harvest in the future. Working and trusting.

It’s a good time, then, to take stock of our personal and communal Lent. Are we bearing fruit? Or are there slaveries, sins, problems that prevent us from doing so? What do I need to free myself from, to be able to turn back to the Lord? How’s my patience? This Lent can be the time to let go of everything that doesn’t allow us to give our best. Let’s show all the good that’s inside us, and have faith that, with God’s help, there’s no struggle or task that’s impossible for us. He always goes before us, opening the way.

Your brother in faith,

Alejandro Carbajo, C.M.F.