Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time – Lectionary: 108

The Better Part

What if the Lord showed up at your door today—unexpected, unannounced? Would you recognize Him? Would you be ready to receive Him, not just into your home, but into your very heart? Today’s readings invite us into the sacred art of hospitality—not simply as good manners, but as a deep spiritual posture, a readiness to receive God in whatever way He chooses to come: as a stranger, a friend, a mystery, or a whisper of grace.

From Abraham’s tent in the ancient desert to the humble home of Martha and Mary in first-century Palestine, the Scriptures remind us that God often arrives in disguise. In Genesis 18, the patriarch runs to greet three unknown visitors—later revealed as a theophany of the Lord Himself—offering food, rest, and care. His eagerness opens the door to divine promise and blessing. Centuries later, in Luke 10, Jesus enters the home of two sisters. Martha busies herself with serving, while Mary chooses to sit and listen. Both acts are forms of hospitality, but Jesus reveals that the most necessary hospitality is not what we do for Him—it’s how we receive Him. As He says to Martha: “There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her” (Luke 10:42).

The Church pairs these stories with Psalm 15 and Colossians 1 to deepen our understanding of true welcome. Psalm 15 outlines the qualities of one who may dwell in the Lord’s presence—not merely external acts, but inner righteousness. St. Paul, writing from prison in Colossians 1:27, speaks of suffering and ministry as a form of stewardship—spiritual hospitality—by which he makes known “the riches of the glory of this mystery… Christ in you, the hope for glory.” These readings call us to recognize that hospitality to God is more than hosting—it is a sacrificial and contemplative openness, a lifestyle of reverent availability that allows the mystery of Christ to take root in us. How is God knocking at your door today—and will you be ready to receive Him?

First Reading – Genesis 18:1–10

A Tent Open to Heaven

What if the Lord showed up at your door today—unexpected, unannounced? Would you recognize Him? Would you be ready to receive Him, not just into your home, but into your very heart? Today’s first reading invites us into one of the most tender and mysterious moments in all of Genesis. Abraham, the father of faith, encounters three visitors by the oak of Mamre—an event the Church has long understood as a theophany, or visible manifestation of God. In the cultural context of the ancient Near East, hospitality was not optional; it was sacred. Yet Abraham’s response goes above and beyond mere custom. He runs to meet these strangers, offers lavish care, and through his humble welcome, receives not only God’s presence but the promise of miraculous life: the birth of Isaac.

This passage is part of the covenantal unfolding of salvation history. After the Lord’s covenant with Abraham in Genesis 17, where circumcision is instituted and the promise of descendants is reaffirmed, we now see divine grace taking tangible form. Hospitality, therefore, is not merely about human kindness—it becomes the means through which God’s promises are delivered. In light of today’s Gospel (Luke 10:38–42), this moment with Abraham parallels Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet. In both cases, the “better part” is not busyness but availability—a heart open to receive the Lord when He arrives.

As we continue reflecting on the theme of radical hospitality, this reading lays the foundation: the tent of Abraham becomes the tent of our hearts. Will we recognize Christ when He comes disguised in the ordinary? Will we let divine promises take root in the soil of our attentiveness and service?

Genesis 18:1-10
New American Bible (Revised Edition)

Abraham’s Visitors. ¹ The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oak of Mamre, as he sat in the entrance of his tent, while the day was growing hot. ² Looking up, he saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them; and bowing to the ground, ³ he said: “Sir, if it please you, do not go on past your servant. ⁴ Let some water be brought, that you may bathe your feet, and then rest under the tree. ⁵ Now that you have come to your servant, let me bring you a little food, that you may refresh yourselves; and afterward you may go on your way.” “Very well,” they replied, “do as you have said.”

⁶ Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah and said, “Quick, three measures of bran flour! Knead it and make bread.” ⁷ He ran to the herd, picked out a tender, choice calf, and gave it to a servant, who quickly prepared it. ⁸ Then he got some curds and milk, as well as the calf that had been prepared, and set these before them, waiting on them under the tree while they ate.

⁹ “Where is your wife Sarah?” they asked him. “There in the tent,” he replied. ¹⁰ One of them said, “I will return to you about this time next year, and Sarah will then have a son.” Sarah was listening at the entrance of the tent, just behind him.

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 1 – “The Lord appeared to Abraham by the oak of Mamre, as he sat in the entrance of his tent, while the day was growing hot.”
This signals a theophany. Abraham is in a posture of rest, but Scripture tells us the Lord appears—God takes the initiative. The oak of Mamre had previously been a place of communion (Genesis 13:18), making this moment one of sacred continuity.

Verse 2 – “Looking up, he saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them; and bowing to the ground…”
Abraham’s response is immediate and reverent. The number three has deep significance—many Fathers of the Church, such as St. Augustine, saw in this a veiled revelation of the Trinity: “Three men appeared to Abraham, yet he called them Lord in the singular… a mystery of the Trinity.” (De Trinitate)

Verse 3 – “Sir, if it please you, do not go on past your servant.”
This verse expresses a longing not to let the moment of grace slip away. Abraham doesn’t yet fully understand who his guests are, but his soul is disposed to receive the divine. Echoes of this verse appear in Psalm 27:8: “Your face, Lord, do I seek.”

Verse 4 – “Let some water be brought, that you may bathe your feet, and then rest under the tree.”
Foot washing was a gesture of deep hospitality and reverence. This anticipates John 13, where Jesus will wash the disciples’ feet—revealing that the one who welcomes also becomes servant.

Verse 5 – “Now that you have come to your servant, let me bring you a little food, that you may refresh yourselves; and afterward you may go on your way.” “Very well,” they replied, “do as you have said.”
This act of generosity is extravagant. Abraham offers not scraps, but a full meal. He approaches his guests with humility—“your servant”—a stance echoed in Mary’s fiat: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.” (Luke 1:38)

Verse 6 – “Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah and said, ‘Quick, three measures of bran flour! Knead it and make bread.’”
Three measures is no small amount—it’s enough to feed a crowd. In Matthew 13:33, Jesus compares the Kingdom of God to a woman who mixes three measures of flour with leaven. The hidden becomes holy.

Verse 7 – “He ran to the herd, picked out a tender, choice calf, and gave it to a servant, who quickly prepared it.”
Abraham’s hospitality is not casual—it is costly. He offers a delicacy, revealing that welcoming others is not about convenience, but sacrifice. This models what St. Paul later calls a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1).

Verse 8 – “Then he got some curds and milk, as well as the calf that had been prepared, and set these before them, waiting on them under the tree while they ate.”
In this tender image, Abraham becomes the servant at the table. This scene prefigures the Eucharist—God being served, yet in turn nourishing His people.

Verse 9 – “Where is your wife Sarah?” they asked him. “There in the tent,” he replied.
The question is loaded with intimacy. The visitors know her name and place, suggesting divine knowledge. The Lord is not distant—He is present and personal.

Verse 10 – “One of them said, ‘I will return to you about this time next year, and Sarah will then have a son.’ Sarah was listening at the entrance of the tent, just behind him.”
Here, the divine identity is fully revealed. A promise is spoken with absolute authority. What seemed like a mere visit is a divine encounter bearing the gift of life. God comes when we least expect it, and He brings more than we ever imagined.

Teachings from the Church

The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the human heart is made for God: “The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God” (CCC 27). Abraham’s desire to welcome strangers reflects this deeper longing—to make room for the divine in our ordinary lives. His readiness models the heart that lives in communion with God through attentive love.

Further, CCC 2571 beautifully connects this moment at Mamre with the life of prayer: “Because Abraham believed in God and walked in his presence and in covenant with him, the patriarch is ready to welcome a mysterious Guest into his tent. Abraham’s remarkable hospitality at Mamre foreshadows the annunciation of the true Son of the promise.” The tent becomes a symbol of the interior life: a place of meeting, communion, and covenant.

St. John Chrysostom exhorts the faithful to practice radical hospitality: “Abraham received not men, but God disguised as men. Let us imitate him, and we shall also be counted worthy to entertain Christ.” This reflects the call of Hebrews 13:2: “Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.” The Church has always taught that charity to others is a direct path to God. The mystery of God hidden in the guest reminds us that every act of love prepares the way for grace.

Reflection for Daily Life

This reading gently yet powerfully urges us to examine the posture of our own hearts. Do we make space for God in the chaos of our days? Or have we grown so busy, so distracted, that we miss His quiet approach in the ordinary? Abraham’s tent was open, his heart was ready, and through that openness, the miracle of new life was announced. So too, our readiness to love, to serve, and to listen may be the very doorway through which grace enters.

How can you open your home, your heart, or your schedule to receive Christ this week? Maybe it’s through slowing down to really listen to your spouse, welcoming an unexpected visitor, or carving out time for silent prayer. Maybe it’s saying yes to serving at your parish—or no to something that distracts you from what matters most. God still comes under the heat of the day, at the door of our lives, disguised in simple moments. Will we welcome Him with joy? Will we recognize His promise when it whispers through the cracks of our busyness? Let us open the tent of our hearts, for the Lord still walks near.

Responsorial Psalm – Psalm 15:2–5

Who May Dwell in His Presence?

The Psalms are the heart of Israel’s prayer, offering us deep wells of wisdom, lament, joy, and divine intimacy. Psalm 15 stands out as a moral and spiritual blueprint, outlining the qualities of the person who may dwell in the Lord’s presence. Traditionally attributed to King David, this psalm would have been used as a liturgical entrance hymn, perhaps sung by pilgrims approaching the Temple in Jerusalem. The question it opens with—Who may abide in your tent, O Lord?—resonates perfectly with today’s theme of divine hospitality. Just as Abraham welcomed the Lord under his tent and Mary sat attentively at the feet of Jesus, Psalm 15 explores what kind of heart is ready to receive God’s presence.

Culturally, the tent in ancient Israel was not only a reference to the desert tabernacle—the dwelling place of God among His people—but also an image of hospitality, relationship, and covenant. To dwell on God’s holy mountain meant to live in communion with Him, to be at home in His house. This psalm does not offer a checklist for earning God’s love, but rather a description of the interior life that flows from a heart rooted in justice, truth, and reverence. It invites us to become a people whose external actions and internal dispositions are in harmony—a people with tents open to heaven.

By placing Psalm 15 between the story of Abraham’s hospitality and the Gospel of Mary and Martha, the Church helps us see that our welcome of God is not merely about emotional warmth or service—it is about walking in integrity, keeping our word, and honoring the sacred in daily life. What kind of life makes us ready to receive the Lord when He comes near?

Psalm 15:2-5
New American Bible (Revised Edition)

² Whoever walks without blame,
    doing what is right,
    speaking truth from the heart;
³ Who does not slander with his tongue,
    does no harm to a friend,
    never defames a neighbor;
⁴ Who disdains the wicked,
    but honors those who fear the Lord;
    Who keeps an oath despite the cost,
⁵     lends no money at interest,
    accepts no bribe against the innocent.

Whoever acts like this
    shall never be shaken.

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 2 – “Whoever walks without blame, doing what is right, speaking truth from the heart;”
The psalm begins with a vision of integrity. To “walk without blame” is to live in a manner consistent with God’s will. It does not imply perfection, but wholeness. Truth spoken “from the heart” highlights sincerity—not mere outward correctness, but an inner life aligned with the truth.

Verse 3 – “Who does not slander with his tongue, does no harm to a friend, never defames a neighbor;”
This verse focuses on relational ethics. Words can build or destroy. The person who refrains from gossip and refuses to harm others with speech or action creates the kind of peaceful dwelling where God is pleased to stay. As James 3:10 warns, “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. This need not be so, my brothers.”

Verse 4 – “Who disdains the wicked, but honors those who fear the Lord; who keeps an oath despite the cost;”
To “disdain the wicked” means to reject evil, not to hate people. This line reflects a clear moral compass—valuing holiness over popularity. The person who honors those who fear God, and who keeps their promises even when it’s hard, shows spiritual maturity. Echoing Matthew 5:37, Jesus teaches: “Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’”

Verse 5 – “Lends no money at interest, accepts no bribe against the innocent. Whoever acts like this shall never be shaken.”
In ancient Israel, charging interest to the poor was seen as exploitative. This verse critiques unjust gain and affirms God’s concern for the vulnerable. Refusing bribes protects justice. The result of this way of life is unshakable stability—like the wise man who builds his house on rock (Matthew 7:24).

Teachings from the Church

The Catechism of the Catholic Church emphasizes the moral dimension of the spiritual life as a pathway to intimacy with God. In CCC 2465, we read: “The Old Testament attests that God is the source of all truth. His Word is truth. His Law is truth. His ‘faithfulness endures to all generations.’ Since God is ‘true,’ the members of his people are called to live in the truth.” Psalm 15 mirrors this call to live in truth—truth in speech, action, and intention. When our interior life reflects God’s own integrity, we create a soul in which He is pleased to dwell.

St. Benedict, in his Rule, echoes the themes of this psalm when he writes: “If we wish to dwell in the tent of this kingdom, we will never arrive unless we run there by doing good deeds.” (Prologue, Rule of St. Benedict) His monastery, like the Temple, was understood as a place where the soul trains in stability, obedience, and hospitality—key virtues outlined in Psalm 15. Living a life of justice, mercy, and truth prepares us to dwell in peace with God and neighbor.

Historically, Psalm 15 has also been used by the Church as a kind of examen—a spiritual self-check for those approaching the Eucharist or entering into deeper prayer. Just as Abraham had to prepare a feast and Mary had to clear the noise to sit at Jesus’ feet, so we too are invited to prepare the interior of our hearts for divine communion. The one who “shall never be shaken” (Psalm 15:5) is the one rooted in the truth of God’s covenant.

Reflection for Daily Life

This psalm is a quiet, piercing invitation to examine the consistency of our lives. Do I speak the truth from my heart, or only when it’s convenient? Do I honor those who fear the Lord—or do I chase after those the world praises? Do I keep my promises, even when they hurt? God does not demand perfection, but He does desire integrity—a heart that mirrors His own.

Psalm 15 teaches us that hospitality to God starts with righteousness in our everyday relationships. The way we treat others, handle our words, and manage our promises either invites the Lord in or crowds Him out. To dwell with God, we must become dwellings of holiness. What would it look like for you to live today in a way that says, “Lord, my heart is a tent open to You”? Whether it’s offering an apology, defending the innocent, or refusing to speak ill of someone, every choice either builds or breaks the space where God desires to stay.

Let us ask the Lord for the grace to become temples of truth, justice, and peace—souls in which He delights to dwell, and from which He can bless others.

Second Reading – Colossians 1:24–28

Christ in You

The Letter to the Colossians is a profound meditation on the cosmic supremacy of Christ and the intimate reality of His presence within the believer. Written by St. Paul during his imprisonment—most likely in Rome around 60–62 AD—this epistle addresses a young Christian community facing confusion from false teachings. Paul re-centers them on the mystery of Christ, who is not just the Creator and Head of the Church, but the One who dwells within His people. In today’s passage, Paul reveals that even his personal sufferings serve a divine purpose: they participate in Christ’s redemptive mission for the Church. This vision fits beautifully with today’s theme of hospitality to God. Just as Abraham welcomed God into his tent and Mary sat open-hearted at Jesus’ feet, Paul offers his very body as a dwelling place of suffering love—a vessel through which Christ can be known.

Culturally and spiritually, this passage shatters the ancient world’s view of suffering as meaningless or shameful. Paul reframes affliction as a space of grace, a place where divine glory is made visible. His stewardship is not over material goods, but over the “mystery hidden from ages past,” now revealed: “Christ in you, the hope for glory” (Colossians 1:27). In the context of today’s readings, we see that true hospitality is not only offering outward welcome, but allowing God to dwell within us—even in the broken places, even when it costs us everything. Paul becomes a living tabernacle, and invites the Colossians—and us—to do the same.

This brief yet rich passage forms a bridge between contemplation and mission. If Abraham shows us how to receive God in our actions and Mary shows us how to receive Him in stillness, then Paul shows us how to let God dwell within us so fully that our whole lives become a revelation of His glory. What parts of your life is God asking to inhabit more fully? What sufferings might become sacred if offered to Him?

Colossians 1:24-28
New American Bible (Revised Edition)

²⁴ Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church, ²⁵ of which I am a minister in accordance with God’s stewardship given to me to bring to completion for you the word of God, ²⁶ the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past. But now it has been manifested to his holy ones, ²⁷ to whom God chose to make known the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; it is Christ in you, the hope for glory. ²⁸ It is he whom we proclaim, admonishing everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone perfect in Christ.

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 24 – “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church,”
Paul begins with a startling claim: that his sufferings are not just tolerable, but a source of joy. He sees his own trials as a way of continuing Christ’s redemptive work—not because Christ’s sacrifice was insufficient, but because the Church, His body, continues to participate in that suffering. As the Catechism explains, “By his passion and death on the cross Christ has given a new meaning to suffering: it can henceforth configure us to him and unite us with his redemptive Passion” (CCC 1505).

Verse 25 – “of which I am a minister in accordance with God’s stewardship given to me to bring to completion for you the word of God,”
Paul views his apostolic mission as a divine stewardship, a sacred responsibility. His role is not self-chosen but divinely entrusted. “Bringing to completion” the Word of God refers to making fully known the mystery now revealed in Christ. This is not new information, but the full unveiling of God’s plan of salvation.

Verse 26 – “the mystery hidden from ages and from generations past. But now it has been manifested to his holy ones,”
The word “mystery” (Greek: mysterion) in Pauline theology refers to God’s saving plan, long concealed but now revealed in Christ. For generations, the fullness of God’s redemptive design was veiled. Now, through Christ, it is not only known but shared with the faithful—“His holy ones”—through the Church.

Verse 27 – “to whom God chose to make known the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; it is Christ in you, the hope for glory.”
This verse is the climax of the passage. The mystery is not abstract—it is “Christ in you”, the indwelling presence of the risen Lord. For Gentiles once excluded from Israel’s covenant, this is astonishing good news. The phrase “hope for glory” refers to the future transformation of believers into the likeness of Christ. This verse echoes John 14:23: “We will come to him and make our dwelling with him.”

Verse 28 – “It is he whom we proclaim, admonishing everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone perfect in Christ.”
Paul’s mission is pastoral and pedagogical: to proclaim, to warn, to teach. The goal is not partial transformation, but full maturity—perfection—in Christ. This verse reminds us that the mystery of Christ within must lead to action: evangelization, catechesis, and formation in holiness.

Teachings from the Church

The Catechism of the Catholic Church offers profound insight into this mystery of redemptive suffering and the indwelling Christ. CCC 618 teaches: “The cross is the unique sacrifice of Christ, the ‘one mediator between God and men.’ But because in his incarnate divine person he has in some way united himself to every man, the possibility of being made partners in the paschal mystery is offered to all men.” St. Paul embraces this partnership. His sufferings become a means by which others can encounter the crucified and risen Lord.

St. Teresa of Ávila also speaks to the indwelling Christ in her Interior Castle, where she describes the soul as a mansion in which God dwells. She writes, “It is foolish to think that we will enter Heaven without entering into ourselves, without coming to know ourselves… and finding God within.” This echoes Paul’s proclamation: the mystery is not out there—it is within. Christ makes His home in the soul that welcomes Him.

From a historical perspective, this teaching was radically inclusive. In declaring that “Christ in you” applies even to Gentiles, Paul expanded the spiritual household of God. This fulfilled Jesus’ prophecy in John 10:16: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. These also I must lead.” Paul’s stewardship echoes the Church’s ongoing mission to proclaim that every soul is called to become a dwelling place of God, regardless of background, status, or past.

Reflection for Daily Life

This reading invites us to a deep interior conversion. Do I see my sufferings as a burden to avoid, or as a gift to be offered? Do I believe Christ truly dwells in me, or do I keep Him at a distance out of fear or self-doubt? Paul’s witness shows us that nothing in our lives—no pain, no past, no weakness—is beyond redemption. When united to Christ, even our wounds become doors through which others can encounter His healing love.

We are stewards of a mystery—carriers of divine presence. To live this out means letting Christ not only visit our lives but dwell within us permanently. What if you saw your body, your home, your relationships, your work—as tabernacles in which Christ is waiting to be revealed? We don’t need to invent new missions; we need only to carry out the one already given: to proclaim Him, live in Him, and help others see Him alive within themselves.

May we echo Paul’s words with courage and conviction: “Christ in me, the hope for glory.” And may our lives, however hidden or humble, become radiant homes for the mystery of God made visible.

Holy Gospel – Luke 10:38–42

Dwelling at the Feet of Christ

In today’s Gospel, Luke 10:38–42, we encounter the beloved story of Martha and Mary—two sisters who receive Jesus into their home, each responding to His presence in radically different ways. Set in a small village, likely Bethany, this passage reveals not just a domestic scene, but a moment of profound theological insight into what it means to welcome God. Luke’s Gospel, written for a Gentile audience, frequently emphasizes God’s preference for the lowly, the attentive, the openhearted. Throughout Luke, Jesus is shown as one who eats with sinners, enters humble homes, and invites radical discipleship. This story exemplifies that theme: God is not looking for performance, but presence. He comes not to be served with anxiety, but to be received in love.

Culturally, the expectation in Jewish households would have been for the women to serve guests, especially a figure as important as a rabbi. Martha’s actions are not sinful or rude—they are customary. Mary, on the other hand, breaks convention by sitting at Jesus’ feet, a posture normally reserved for male disciples. Yet Jesus does not rebuke her; He affirms her. In doing so, He not only honors Mary’s hunger for the Word, but redefines hospitality altogether. No longer is it merely about service and provision—it is about attention, intimacy, and receptivity to divine presence. This fits seamlessly with today’s theme. Like Abraham and Sarah preparing a feast, or Paul suffering to reveal the mystery of Christ, Mary shows us the truest welcome: to be still and let the Lord speak.

As we reach the summit of the liturgy of the Word, the Gospel passage brings clarity to everything that preceded it. Psalm 15 taught us that integrity prepares us to dwell with the Lord. Genesis 18 illustrated how service and reverence create a space for divine promise. Colossians 1 revealed that Christ dwells within. Now, in Luke 10, we see the “better part”: to sit at the feet of Jesus and make ourselves fully present. Do we live as though Christ is truly in our midst? Do we choose the better part each day—or does anxiety keep us from Him?

Luke 10:38-42
New American Bible (Revised Edition)

³⁸ As they continued their journey he entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him. ³⁹ She had a sister named Mary [who] sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak. ⁴⁰ Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” ⁴¹ The Lord said to her in reply, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things. ⁴² There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.”

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 38 – “As they continued their journey he entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.”
Jesus is on His way to Jerusalem, moving steadily toward His Passion. Along the way, He accepts the hospitality of a woman named Martha. In a time and culture where men were typically named first in stories, the Gospel’s attention to Martha signals her importance. She welcomes Jesus—an act of boldness and generosity. Like Abraham, she opens her home to the Lord.

Verse 39 – “She had a sister named Mary [who] sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.”
Mary takes the posture of a disciple. To sit at someone’s feet was a rabbinical way of learning, a position that expressed both humility and deep attentiveness. This choice is radical—not just for a woman in her time, but for any person in any age who sets aside tasks in favor of listening to the Word.

Verse 40 – “Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.’”
Martha’s service is good, but it becomes clouded by resentment. Her words—“do you not care?”—echo similar cries in Scripture from those overwhelmed by responsibility or suffering (cf. Mark 4:38). She feels unseen, and turns to Jesus not for communion, but for correction of her sister. Her hospitality, though well-intentioned, has become anxious and distracted.

Verse 41 – “The Lord said to her in reply, ‘Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.’”
Jesus speaks her name twice, a sign of tenderness and affection. He doesn’t scold her, but gently reveals the condition of her heart. The Greek words for “anxious” (merimnaō) and “worried” (turbazō) imply being pulled in many directions—internally fragmented. Her concern for serving has become a spiritual obstacle.

Verse 42 – “There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.”
This final verse reveals the heart of the Gospel: all service must be rooted in communion. The “one thing necessary” is to sit with Jesus, to receive Him. Mary’s choice to be still and present is not laziness—it is courageous, and Jesus honors it. She welcomes not just His body into her home, but His Word into her heart.

Teachings from the Church

The Catechism of the Catholic Church affirms this interior receptivity in its teaching on prayer: “Contemplation is a gaze of faith, fixed on Jesus. ‘I look at him and he looks at me’: this is what a certain peasant of Ars used to say while praying before the tabernacle… It is a communion of love bearing life for the multitude” (CCC 2715). Mary models this gaze—a still, receptive, listening heart that bears fruit not in activity, but in communion. Her silence speaks more powerfully than Martha’s labor.

St. Gregory the Great, commenting on this passage, teaches: “Martha received Jesus into her house, but it was Mary who was filled with His presence.” He is not pitting them against each other, but showing us a deeper order: action must flow from contemplation. The better part does not diminish Martha’s work—it reorders it. The Church has always upheld this balance: ora et labora—prayer and work—yet always with prayer as the source.

This Gospel also anticipates the Eucharistic mystery. Christ enters our home every time we receive Him in the Blessed Sacrament. But as CCC 1385 warns, “To respond to this invitation we must prepare ourselves for so great and so holy a moment.” Mary shows us what that preparation looks like: a stillness that listens, a heart cleared of clutter, a soul resting at His feet. In this way, the Gospel becomes liturgical. Every Mass invites us to choose the better part.

Reflection for Daily Life

This Gospel is a mirror for our modern hearts. How often do we live like Martha—busy, anxious, full of good intentions but disconnected from the One we’re serving? How often do we defend our busyness instead of surrendering to silence? Jesus doesn’t condemn Martha’s work—He reorients it. He calls her back to the “one thing necessary”: Himself.

Today’s reading asks us to look at our priorities. What fills my calendar but empties my soul? Do I sit daily at the feet of Christ in Scripture, in the Eucharist, in silence? Or do I rush through life trying to earn what God already longs to give me freely? Mary chose the better part—and we can too. It starts with a moment: a pause in prayer, a breath before responding, a choice to listen rather than do.

May we become not just people who welcome Jesus into our homes, but disciples who welcome Him into every moment. May our service, like Martha’s, be rooted in presence, and our stillness, like Mary’s, be alive with love. And when the Lord passes by our door, may He find us watching, waiting, and ready to sit at His feet.

Let God Dwell Within

Today’s readings draw us into the sacred mystery of welcoming God—not just with our words or actions, but with our entire lives. In Genesis 18, Abraham opens his tent to three strangers and, in doing so, encounters the Lord and receives the long-awaited promise of new life. Psalm 15 reveals the heart posture necessary to dwell with God: integrity, justice, truth, and reverence. In Colossians 1, St. Paul reminds us that this divine mystery has now been made manifest in its fullness: “Christ in you, the hope for glory” (Colossians 1:27). And in Luke 10, Jesus gently tells Martha—and us—that all our doing must flow from our being: “There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part” (Luke 10:42).

Hospitality, then, is more than an external act. It is a deep interior orientation—an openness to the surprising ways God comes to us in the ordinary. Sometimes He appears as a guest in need, other times as a whisper in prayer, or a word in Scripture, or a stirring in the heart. He longs not only to visit, but to dwell. The tent of Abraham, the feet of Jesus, the mystery hidden for ages—they all converge in this truth: God wants to make His home in you.

So what kind of home are you preparing? Is your heart cluttered with distractions, or ready to receive the better part? Today, choose stillness. Choose love. Choose to open the door to Christ, not just with hospitality, but with surrender. Invite Him in, and let His presence fill every room of your life. Because when you welcome Him—truly, deeply—He brings with Him promises, peace, and glory beyond all telling.

Engage with Us!

We’d love to hear how today’s Scriptures spoke to your heart. Share your thoughts, prayers, or personal reflections in the comments below—your words might be the encouragement someone else needs today. Let’s grow in faith together as we seek to live lives that welcome the Lord with open hearts and open hands.

Reflection Questions:

First Reading – Genesis 18:1–10
When have you encountered God in the “stranger” or the unexpected visitor?
How can you cultivate a more generous spirit of hospitality in your home and heart?

Responsorial Psalm – Psalm 15:2–5
Which verse from this psalm speaks most directly to your life right now?
What steps can you take this week to live more truthfully and walk blamelessly before the Lord?

Second Reading – Colossians 1:24–28
Is there a current suffering in your life that you can offer to God as a form of spiritual stewardship?
How does the truth that “Christ is in you” change the way you view your identity and purpose?

Holy Gospel – Luke 10:38–42
Are you more naturally drawn to Martha’s activity or Mary’s stillness?
What practical changes can you make this week to “choose the better part” and spend time at Jesus’ feet?

May your week be filled with moments of holy pause, sacred hospitality, and deepening love. Let us be people who recognize Christ in every guest, every silence, every cross, and every grace. Live your faith boldly and do everything with the love and mercy Jesus taught us. He is always knocking—may He find your heart open and ready to receive Him.

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