Saturday of the Third Week of Lent, March 29,2025

Today’s Readings, from the USCCB:

Reading I

Hosea 6:1-6

“Come, let us return to the LORD, it is he who has rent, but he will heal us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds. He will revive us after two days; on the third day he will raise us up, to live in his presence. Let us know, let us strive to know the LORD; as certain as the dawn is his coming, and his judgment shines forth like the light of day! He will come to us like the rain, like spring rain that waters the earth.”

What can I do with you, Ephraim? What can I do with you, Judah? Your piety is like a morning cloud, like the dew that early passes away. For this reason I smote them through the prophets, I slew them by the words of my mouth; For it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 51:3-4, 18-19, 20-21ab

R.    It is mercy I desire, and not sacrifice.

Have mercy on me, O God, in your goodness; in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense. Thoroughly wash me from my guilt and of my sin cleanse me.

R.    It is mercy I desire, and not sacrifice.

For you are not pleased with sacrifices; should I offer a burnt offering, you would not accept it. My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn.

R.    It is mercy I desire, and not sacrifice.

Be bountiful, O LORD, to Zion in your kindness by rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem; Then shall you be pleased with due sacrifices, burnt offerings and holocausts.

R.    It is mercy I desire, and not sacrifice.

Verse before the Gospel

Psalm 95:8

If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.

Gospel

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus addressed this parable to those who were convinced of their own righteousness and despised everyone else. “Two people went up to the temple area to pray; one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector. The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself, ‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.’ But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’ I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

 

Mercy, Not Sacrifice

There are days when I feel more like the Pharisee – praying with clenched fists and a clenched jaw – trying to convince God I’m doing okay. That I’ve done enough. That I’m not as bad as I feel on the inside. That maybe if I offer the right words, the right performance, the right sacrifice, He’ll finally say, “You’re good. You belong. You’re forgiven.”

But truthfully? Most days – I feel like the tax collector.

Standing far off. Heavy. Humbled. Hollowed out by life and prayer that hasn’t worked the way I’d hoped.

Beating my chest in ways no one sees.

Asking not for blessings, but just for mercy.

I Am the One Who Stands Off at a Distance

When I prayed for my son to find a “win” – a break, a moment of light in what felt like years of struggle – I begged God to notice. To intervene. When I asked for my mom to be healed, for my dad not to die of a broken heart 70 days later, I wasn’t asking for comfort. I was asking to not be alone in the storm.

But the silence that followed felt like exile.

And even now, years later, I sometimes sit in Mass and feel like an outsider – watching others bow and kneel with a sense of belonging I can’t seem to recapture. I want to believe. I do believe. But I don’t feel worthy. I’ve made too many bad calls. Missed too many signs. I’ve lied to get out of things. Chosen football over Mass. Shots over stillness. I’ve swallowed pride to forgive people who wouldn't blink if I disappeared.

I wonder – if today I were in that temple, would I be the one praying loudly, trying to sound good? Or would I stay in the back, head down, asking quietly if God still sees me?

“It Is Mercy I Desire…”

Today, God says through Hosea: “It is love that I desire, not sacrifice.”

I’ve given up meat in past Lents. I’ve walked away from shots at the bar this year. I’ve written these reflections, not to look holy – but to feel less lost. To speak what I haven’t said out loud in years.

But somewhere in that, I realize – I’m still trying to barter with God.

“Look, I gave this up…will You answer now?”

“Look, I’m doing the work…am I worthy now?”

But God doesn't want the performance.

He wants the bruised heart. The trembling, honest, show-me-mercy cry.

Not the perfect son. The present one.

Not the sacrifice. The surrender.

The One Who Humbles Himself…

Jesus ends the Gospel today by flipping everything upside down – “The one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

And maybe that’s the hardest part for me – because I’ve spent most of my life trying to be enough.

Trying to look strong for my family. Swallowing my fears. Stepping aside so others could shine.

Giving everything so my kids could go to private school, sacrificing my dream job, showing up for friends even when it drained me.

But I still don’t feel exalted. I still feel small. Forgotten. Unseen.

And yet…maybe God sees me best in this posture – when I’m not standing tall, but standing still.

Still believing. Still coming back. Still asking, “Is there mercy left for someone like me?”

Maybe this is the moment He says…

“You’re not far.”