Monday of the Third Week of Lent, March 24, 2025

Monday of the Third Week of Lent, March 24, 2025

Today’s Readings, from the USCCB:

Reading 1

2 Kings 5:1-15ab

Naaman, the army commander of the king of Aram, was highly esteemed and respected by his master, for through him the LORD had brought victory to Aram. But valiant as he was, the man was a leper. Now the Arameans had captured in a raid on the land of Israel a little girl, who became the servant of Naaman’s wife. “If only my master would present himself to the prophet in Samaria,” she said to her mistress, “he would cure him of his leprosy.” Naaman went and told his lord just what the slave girl from the land of Israel had said. “Go,” said the king of Aram. “I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.” So Naaman set out, taking along ten silver talents, six thousand gold pieces, and ten festal garments. To the king of Israel he brought the letter, which read: “With this letter I am sending my servant Naaman to you, that you may cure him of his leprosy.”

When he read the letter, the king of Israel tore his garments and exclaimed: “Am I a god with power over life and death, that this man should send someone to me to be cured of leprosy? Take note! You can see he is only looking for a quarrel with me!” When Elisha, the man of God, heard that the king of Israel had torn his garments, he sent word to the king: “Why have you torn your garments? Let him come to me and find out that there is a prophet in Israel.”

Naaman came with his horses and chariots and stopped at the door of Elisha’s house. The prophet sent him the message: “Go and wash seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will heal, and you will be clean.” But Naaman went away angry, saying, “I thought that he would surely come out and stand there to invoke the LORD his God, and would move his hand over the spot, and thus cure the leprosy. Are not the rivers of Damascus, the Abana and the Pharpar, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be cleansed?” With this, he turned about in anger and left.

But his servants came up and reasoned with him. “My father,” they said, “if the prophet had told you to do something extraordinary, would you not have done it? All the more now, since he said to you, ‘Wash and be clean,’ should you do as he said.” So Naaman went down and plunged into the Jordan seven times at the word of the man of God. His flesh became again like the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.

He returned with his whole retinue to the man of God. On his arrival he stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth, except in Israel.”

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 42:2, 3; 43:3, 4

R. Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God.

R. Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

R. Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

Send forth your light and your fidelity; they shall lead me on And bring me to your holy mountain, to your dwelling-place.

R. Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

Then will I go in to the altar of God, the God of my gladness and joy; Then will I give you thanks upon the harp, O God, my God!

R. Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?

Verse Before the Gospel

Psalm 130:5, 7

I hope in the LORD, I trust in his word; with him there is kindness and plenteous redemption.

Gospel

Luke 4:24-30

Jesus said to the people in the synagogue at Nazareth: “Amen, I say to you, no prophet is accepted in his own native place. Indeed, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was closed for three and a half years and a severe famine spread over the entire land. It was to none of these that Elijah was sent, but only to a widow in Zarephath in the land of Sidon. Again, there were many lepers in Israel during the time of Elisha the prophet; yet not one of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.” When the people in the synagogue heard this, they were all filled with fury. They rose up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town had been built, to hurl him down headlong. But he passed through the midst of them and went away.

 

When the Healing Doesn’t Look Like a Miracle

"Naaman went down and plunged into the Jordan seven times… and he was clean." – 2 Kings 5:14

There’s something so human about Naaman’s reaction.

He was desperate for healing.

He traveled with gold, garments, chariots, and an expectation that if God were going to show up, He’d do it with fireworks.

Drama.

A moment so powerful it couldn’t be missed.

But that’s not what he got.

He was told to wash in the Jordan River – seven times.

Just…water.

Just…obedience.

And he almost walked away from his own healing because it didn’t come how he expected.

The Danger of Expecting God on Our Terms

I’ve been there – far too often.

Praying for God to act in a big way.

Begging for a miracle.

Hoping for signs that would shout, “You are not forgotten. You are still loved. Your prayers matter.”

And when none of that came, resentment started to set in.

When my mother was dying, I prayed for something unmistakable.

A turnaround.

A healing.

When my son needed a break – needed a “win” – I asked, pleaded, bargained for it.

And silence.

Just like Naaman, I expected a hand wave and a heavenly spotlight.

What I got was a slow, quiet invitation:

Keep going.

Trust me anyway.

Step into the water – even if it looks plain and ordinary.

Athirst Is My Soul

Today’s Psalm speaks to the ache I’ve felt so often:

"Athirst is my soul for the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?"

That thirst – I know it.

I’ve felt it in rooms full of people where I still felt alone.

I’ve felt it in churches where I looked around and saw others kneeling, singing, seemingly full of peace, while I silently asked, Why don’t I feel what they feel?

I’ve felt it in the quiet moments at night, when the weight of failure, fear, or just fatigue makes me wonder if I’ve missed my moment – if I’m too far gone to be truly healed.

But maybe this is the healing.

Not the kind that makes headlines.

Not the kind that looks holy from the outside.

But the kind that takes place quietly – seven small steps into surrender.

Rejected in His Own Hometown

Jesus’ words in the Gospel sting in their honesty:

"No prophet is accepted in his own native place."

I think of the times I’ve been misunderstood – when people I considered close friends judged me, gossiped about me, alienated me from places and people I once loved.

I think of the family members who’ve said cruel, untrue things – who turned away without even asking for the truth.

And I think of how often I’ve turned myself away from God – out of pride, or pain, or because I couldn’t accept the way He was showing up in my life.

I see myself in Naaman.

In the crowd at the synagogue.

In the fig tree from yesterday.

Still thirsty.

Still flawed.

Still looking for God in a blaze when maybe He’s standing quietly beside me, waiting for me to just take the next step into the water.

So What Do I Do with This Today?

I admit that part of me still wants a dramatic rescue.

Still wants to be sure.

Still wants the miracle to be loud.

But if God is still in the small things –

If His voice still whispers in the plainness of rivers, in the quiet of broken souls, If He still walks with the misunderstood, the wounded, the ones rejected in their own circles –

Then maybe I’m closer to Him than I think.

And maybe being a little less lost today just means getting into the water.

Not once.

Not twice.

But as many times as it takes.

Until I finally believe the healing has begun.

Even if it’s quiet.

Even if it’s slow.

Even if no one else sees it.

Because He sees it.

And He sees me.

Still a little broken.

Still a little thirsty.

But still showing up.

And that – today – is enough.