February 23, 2026 – Seeing Christ in the Stranger in Today’s Mass Readings

Monday of the First Week of Lent – Lectionary: 224

The Holiness That Looks Like Mercy

There is a quiet kind of holiness that does not announce itself with big words or dramatic moments, but shows up in the way someone treats the people everyone else overlooks. That is the thread running through today’s readings: God’s holiness becomes visible when love turns practical, especially toward the neighbor in need.

In the First Week of Lent, the Church begins close to the ground, because real conversion always does. In Leviticus 19, the Lord speaks to Israel as a covenant people being formed at Sinai, a people meant to look different from the surrounding nations, not because they are better, but because they belong to a holy God. Holiness here is not presented as an escape from ordinary life. It is presented as a rule of the road for ordinary life: truthfulness, justice in judgment, honest wages, a clean tongue, and a heart that refuses revenge. The command at the center is simple and demanding: “Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” That is not sentimental language. That is covenant language, the kind that builds a society where the weak are protected and the strong are held accountable.

Psalm 19 then steps in like a wise friend who has lived long enough to know that God’s commandments are not chains. They are light. When the Psalm calls the law “perfect” and “enlightening,” it is describing what happens when the heart stops negotiating with sin and starts letting God tell the truth about what love really is. The Psalm’s closing plea is the kind of prayer Lent teaches a soul to say with honesty: “Let the words of my mouth be acceptable, the thoughts of my heart before you, Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”

Then The Gospel of Matthew brings the theme to its sharpest point. Jesus describes the Last Judgment, not to satisfy curiosity about the end times, but to reveal what matters most when the mask comes off and eternity stands in full daylight. The King does not ask about reputation, social standing, or spiritual slogans. The King points to hunger, thirst, loneliness, vulnerability, sickness, and imprisonment. The shock is that Christ identifies Himself with the “least,” so that mercy becomes the measure of whether love was real. This is why the Church speaks so directly about the corporal works of mercy, because they are not optional extras for intense Catholics. They are the concrete shape of charity when grace is alive, the kind of love that will be unveiled in judgment, as The Catechism teaches about the decisive weight of love lived or refused in the face of need, especially in sins of omission, and the works of mercy that answer them, CCC 1033, CCC 2447, CCC 1434.

First Reading – Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18

Holiness is love that tells the truth and refuses revenge.
In the Book of Leviticus, God is not speaking to isolated individuals who are trying to be “spiritual.” God is forming a covenant people, Israel, teaching them how to live as a community set apart for Him after the Exodus. This passage comes from what is often called the “Holiness Code,” where holiness is not treated as an inner feeling, but as a public way of life. The repeated phrase, “I am the Lord,” is not filler. It is God’s signature, reminding Israel that every honest word, every fair wage, every refusal to gossip, and every act of mercy is tied to belonging to Him. In Lent, this reading fits today’s theme perfectly because it shows what genuine conversion looks like before it ever becomes dramatic. Holiness becomes visible in ordinary decisions, especially when love is tested by inconvenience, pride, or the temptation to hold a grudge.

Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18 – New American Bible (Revised Edition)

Various Rules of Conduct. The Lord said to Moses: Speak to the whole Israelite community and tell them: Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.

11 You shall not steal. You shall not deceive or speak falsely to one another. 12 You shall not swear falsely by my name, thus profaning the name of your God. I am the Lord.

13 You shall not exploit your neighbor. You shall not commit robbery. You shall not withhold overnight the wages of your laborer. 14 You shall not insult the deaf, or put a stumbling block in front of the blind, but you shall fear your God. I am the Lord.

15 You shall not act dishonestly in rendering judgment. Show neither partiality to the weak nor deference to the mighty, but judge your neighbor justly. 16 You shall not go about spreading slander among your people; nor shall you stand by idly when your neighbor’s life is at stake. I am the Lord.

17 You shall not hate any of your kindred in your heart. Reprove your neighbor openly so that you do not incur sin because of that person. 18 Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 1, “The Lord said to Moses:”
This opening sets the scene in Israel’s sacred story. God speaks through Moses, the mediator of the covenant, because the law is not human wisdom collected over time. The law is revealed instruction, meant to shape Israel into a people who reflect God’s own life.

Verse 2, “Speak to the whole Israelite community and tell them: Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy.”
Holiness begins here, with identity. God does not say, “Be holy because it feels right,” but “Be holy” because God is holy and Israel belongs to Him. The command is communal, addressed to the whole people, because sin and virtue always spill outward. In the Catholic tradition, this is echoed in the universal call to holiness, where sanctity is not reserved for a few, but is the normal Christian vocation.

Verse 11, “You shall not steal. You shall not deceive or speak falsely to one another.”
Holiness touches the wallet and the tongue. Theft and deceit destroy communion because they treat the neighbor as an object to use rather than a person to love. This verse reaches beyond taking physical goods. It condemns the whole habit of manipulating reality to gain advantage, especially within the community.

Verse 12, “You shall not swear falsely by my name, thus profaning the name of your God. I am the Lord.”
God’s name is not a prop for personal credibility. False oaths twist the sacred into a tool for lies, and that is why the text calls it “profaning.” In Catholic moral teaching, reverence for God’s name is inseparable from truthfulness, because worship without integrity becomes a performance.

Verse 13, “You shall not exploit your neighbor. You shall not commit robbery. You shall not withhold overnight the wages of your laborer.”
This verse is blunt about economic sin. Exploitation is not only a private vice, it is a social injustice that cries out to God. The command about wages is strikingly concrete, because day laborers lived from one payment to the next. To delay wages “overnight” was not a minor inconvenience. It was cruelty disguised as business.

Verse 14, “You shall not insult the deaf, or put a stumbling block in front of the blind, but you shall fear your God. I am the Lord.”
This is one of Scripture’s clearest condemnations of bullying the vulnerable. The deaf cannot defend themselves from mockery, and the blind cannot see the trap. God ties mercy to the fear of the Lord because the vulnerable may be unseen by society, but never unseen by God. Holiness is proven by how someone treats the person who cannot repay.

Verse 15, “You shall not act dishonestly in rendering judgment. Show neither partiality to the weak nor deference to the mighty, but judge your neighbor justly.”
Justice is not favoritism in either direction. God forbids bending the scales for the powerful, but also forbids corrupt “pity” that ignores truth. Holiness requires steady fairness, especially when pressure, fear, or popularity tempts a person to twist judgment.

Verse 16, “You shall not go about spreading slander among your people; nor shall you stand by idly when your neighbor’s life is at stake. I am the Lord.”
Slander kills reputations, and reputations matter because they shape lives. God then intensifies the command by condemning passive complicity when life is threatened. Holiness is not only avoiding harm, it is refusing the cowardice of indifference. A disciple does not get to hide behind silence when truth, safety, or human dignity is on the line.

Verse 17, “You shall not hate any of your kindred in your heart. Reprove your neighbor openly so that you do not incur sin because of that person.”
God goes beneath behavior and targets the heart. Hatred can be hidden, polite, and socially acceptable, but it still poisons the soul. The command to “reprove” is not permission to humiliate. It is a call to honest, charitable correction so that resentment does not rot into hatred. In Catholic life, this is the seed of fraternal correction, offered with humility and love, aimed at restoration rather than winning an argument.

Verse 18, “Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your own people. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.”
This is the summit. God forbids revenge and grudges, not because justice does not matter, but because personal vengeance turns the heart into a prison. Then comes the command that Jesus will place at the center of the moral life: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Love is not reduced to a feeling here. Love is a decision to seek the good of the other, even when pride wants to keep score.

Teachings

This reading teaches that holiness is not an escape from the world, but God’s way of healing it from the inside out. The commands move from external sins like stealing and lying, into structural sins like exploitation and corrupt judgment, and finally into interior sins like hatred and revenge. That progression matters, because it shows that conversion cannot stop at appearances. God wants truth in the mouth, justice in the hands, and mercy in the heart.

The Church’s tradition calls this love “mercy,” not as soft sentiment, but as concrete charity. The Catechism describes the works of mercy in language that sounds like the natural continuation of Leviticus 19, and it shows how God’s holiness becomes visible through action: CCC 2447 teaches “The works of mercy are charitable actions by which we come to the aid of our neighbor in his spiritual and bodily necessities. Instructing, advising, consoling, comforting are spiritual works of mercy, as are forgiving and bearing wrongs patiently. The corporal works of mercy consist especially in feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned, and burying the dead.”

The reading’s insistence on justice for workers and care for the vulnerable also echoes a hard-edged truth preached by the Fathers. Saint John Chrysostom does not treat indifference as neutral. He treats it as theft of dignity, and The Catechism preserves his warning in plain words, CCC 2446: “Not to enable the poor to share in our goods is to steal from them and deprive them of life.”

In other words, Leviticus is not mainly about rule-keeping. It is about becoming a people whose daily life makes God believable. That is why the reading pairs so naturally with today’s Gospel of the Last Judgment. The neighbor is never “just a neighbor.” The neighbor is where love is proven.

Reflection

This reading challenges the comfortable habit of treating holiness as private. God’s holiness presses into speech, money, work, and relationships. A Christian cannot claim to love God while casually bending the truth, quietly exploiting others, or rehearsing grudges like they are justified treasures.

A practical Lenten response begins with naming the everyday places where honesty is negotiated. It continues with choosing justice even when no one would notice. It also includes refusing the cheap thrill of gossip, especially when a conversation turns into a group sport of tearing someone down. Finally, it requires learning the difficult skill of letting go of revenge, because grudges feel like power but function like chains.

Where has resentment been allowed to live quietly in the heart, even while the outside looks polite and controlled?
Who has been treated unfairly through delayed accountability, careless words, or convenient silence when that person needed defense?
What would change this week if “Be holy” meant paying what is owed, speaking what is true, and choosing mercy over scorekeeping in one specific relationship?

Lent is not only about giving something up. Lent is about becoming the kind of person who can love without deception, judge without partiality, and forgive without keeping receipts. That is holiness that looks like mercy, and it is the holiness God commands because it is the holiness God lives.

Responsorial Psalm – Psalm 19:8-10, 15

God’s word teaches the heart how to love.
Psalm 19 is one of Israel’s great hymns of praise for God’s revelation, a song that treats the Lord’s instruction as a gift that heals and steadies the human person. In the life of ancient Israel, the law was never meant to be a cold legal code. It was the covenant path, the way a redeemed people learned to live in communion with God and with one another. That is why today’s psalm fits so perfectly with Leviticus 19 and The Gospel of Matthew 25. The First Reading shows holiness in concrete love and justice, and the Gospel shows that love will be weighed at the Last Judgment. The psalm stands in the middle like a lamp on a table, reminding every listener that God’s commands refresh the soul, enlighten the eyes, and train the heart for mercy.

Psalm 19:8-10, 15 – New American Bible (Revised Edition)

The law of the Lord is perfect,
    refreshing the soul.
The decree of the Lord is trustworthy,
    giving wisdom to the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
    rejoicing the heart.
The command of the Lord is clear,
    enlightening the eye.
10 The fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever.
The statutes of the Lord are true,
    all of them just;

15 Let the words of my mouth be acceptable,
    the thoughts of my heart before you,
    Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 8, “The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul. The decree of the Lord is trustworthy, giving wisdom to the simple.”
This verse piles up two comforts: perfection and trustworthiness. “Perfect” does not mean complicated. It means complete, lacking nothing needed for salvation and right living. The law “refreshes” because it restores what sin drains, including clarity, peace, and moral strength. When the psalm says it gives wisdom “to the simple,” it is not mocking the uneducated. It is praising the humble person who is teachable. God’s word makes the teachable person wise, because it forms the conscience and steadies the will.

Verse 9, “The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart. The command of the Lord is clear, enlightening the eye.”
God’s precepts are “right” because they line the soul up with reality. That is why they can “rejoice the heart.” Real joy comes from living in the truth, not from indulging whatever feels good in the moment. “Clear” and “enlightening” are powerful Lenten words. Lent is the season where God clears away excuses and self-deception, so the eyes can see sin as sin and mercy as mercy. A heart trained by God’s commands begins to recognize Christ in the neighbor, which is exactly what The Gospel of Matthew 25 demands.

Verse 10, “The fear of the Lord is pure, enduring forever. The statutes of the Lord are true, all of them just;”
“Fear of the Lord” is not anxiety that God is waiting to strike. It is reverence, awe, and worshipful obedience. It is “pure” because it cleanses the heart of pride and self-worship. It “endures forever” because God does not change, and truth does not expire. When the psalm says God’s statutes are “true” and “just,” it is saying that divine commandments are not arbitrary. They are the moral architecture of reality, and the person who resists them eventually collides with them.

Verse 15, “Let the words of my mouth be acceptable, the thoughts of my heart before you, Lord, my rock and my redeemer.”
This is the psalm’s landing point, and it sounds like an examination of conscience turned into prayer. The mouth and the heart are brought together because holiness cannot be split. Speech reveals the heart, and the heart eventually shapes speech. Calling the Lord “rock” means God is steady when emotions and circumstances shift. Calling Him “redeemer” means the speaker is not pretending to be self-made. The psalm ends with dependence, which is where conversion always begins.

Teachings

This psalm teaches that God’s word is not only information. It is formation. It shapes the conscience, strengthens the will, and purifies desire. This is why the Church treats Sacred Scripture as living speech from God to His people, and why she insists that the moral life is not invented by personal preference. God reveals the path because love needs truth in order to remain love.

The Catechism explains that the Ten Commandments and the moral law are not competing with love, but protecting love from becoming a lie. It teaches, CCC 2062: “The Ten Commandments, while proclaiming the precepts of the natural law, reveal in a privileged way the human vocation: to love God and to love one’s neighbor.” This fits today’s theme because Leviticus 19 and the psalm both show that holiness is love guided by truth, and the Gospel shows that love is judged by action.

The Church also teaches that prayer is meant to include the heart and the lips, the inner and the outer. The psalm’s final line is a model of that unity. The Catechism describes prayer as a real relationship that involves the whole person, and it warns against empty words without conversion. It teaches, CCC 2562: “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Those who seek God by prayer are quickly purified.” The psalm’s plea for acceptable words and purified thoughts is exactly that purification.

Saint Augustine often speaks of the human heart as restless until it rests in God, and that rest includes moral order, not mere calm feelings. The wisdom of the psalms is that God’s commands are not the enemy of happiness. God’s commands are the road to it, because they lead the heart out of slavery to sin and into freedom for love.

Reflection

This psalm is a gentle but firm reminder that Lent is not only about effort. Lent is also about letting God rewire what is loved, what is feared, and what is spoken. A person can do many religious things while the mouth stays sharp and the heart stays resentful. The psalm refuses that split and invites something better: a life where speech is honest, motives are purified, and decisions are shaped by God’s clear light.

A practical way to live this psalm is to pray it before speaking in moments where speech is most likely to sin, especially in conflict, sarcasm, gossip, or online comments. Another way is to let God’s word judge the day, rather than letting the day judge God’s word. The psalm teaches that the law “refreshes the soul,”Q2, which means it is worth asking whether the soul is tired because it has been running on self-will instead of obedience.

What changes in daily life when God’s commandments are treated as medicine instead of restrictions?
Where have the words of the mouth been asking for holiness, while the thoughts of the heart have been clinging to bitterness, lust, or pride?
If the “fear of the Lord” is reverence and awe, what would it look like to make choices this week as if God is truly God, and the neighbor truly matters?

This psalm does not ask for perfection overnight. It asks for sincerity before God. It asks for a heart that wants to be taught, and a mouth that wants to speak like someone who is being redeemed.

Holy Gospel – Matthew 25:31-46

The King will ask one question in the end.
Near the end of The Gospel of Matthew, Jesus speaks with the solemn calm of Someone who sees history from the outside. This scene is often called the judgment of the nations, and it carries the weight of Daniel’s vision of the “Son of Man” coming in glory to receive a kingdom. In the world of first-century Palestine, people understood shepherding, flocks, and separation. Sheep and goats might graze together during the day, but they were separated when night fell, because sheep handled cold differently than goats. Jesus takes that familiar image and turns it into an unforgettable warning and an unforgettable invitation. In Lent, this Gospel lands with purpose. It teaches that holiness is not only about avoiding sin, but about choosing love in concrete ways. The First Reading from Leviticus shows what covenant holiness looks like in daily life, and today Jesus reveals the final measure of that holiness: whether mercy became real toward the hungry, the stranger, the sick, and the imprisoned.

Matthew 25:31-46 – New American Bible (Revised Edition)

31 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, 32 and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. 34 Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ 40 And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’ 41 Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42 For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, 43 a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ 44 Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ 45 He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ 46 And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

Detailed Exegesis

Verse 31, “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne,”
Jesus describes a public, cosmic unveiling. The hidden Christ becomes the visible King, and the angels signal divine authority, not human opinion. The “throne” language makes clear that judgment belongs to God, not to mobs, trends, or personal preference.

Verse 32, “and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats.”
This is universal in scope. No culture and no generation escapes the encounter with Christ. The separation is personal and decisive, and it is portrayed as the careful act of a shepherd, not a chaotic outburst.

Verse 33, “He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.”
In biblical symbolism, the right side is associated with favor and honor. The left side signals refusal and loss. Jesus is not assigning random teams. Jesus is revealing what lives have chosen.

Verse 34, “Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.’”
The first word is grace. They are “blessed,” and the kingdom is “prepared,” which means God’s initiative comes first. Yet inheritance also implies belonging, and belonging is shown by a life that resembles the Father.

Verse 35, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me,”
Mercy begins with basic needs. Hunger and thirst are not abstract. The stranger is not a concept. The stranger is a person at the door. This is love that moves from the heart into the hands.

Verse 36, “naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”
Clothing covers vulnerability and restores dignity. Care for the sick requires patience and presence. Visiting the imprisoned challenges fear and social stigma. The list is practical on purpose, because Jesus is describing love that costs something.

Verse 37, “Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?’”
Their surprise reveals something pure. They were not keeping a scoreboard. They were not performing for applause. Their goodness had become ordinary, which is often the clearest sign of virtue.

Verse 38, “When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?”
They are honestly confused because they never saw Christ in visible glory during these acts. They saw need, and they responded. They did not realize they were touching the mystery of Christ’s presence.

Verse 39, “When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’”
The righteous are not claiming credit. They are asking for clarity. In a world obsessed with recognition, this humility is striking.

Verse 40, “And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’”
This is the heart of the Gospel. Christ identifies Himself with “the least.” The word “Amen” marks it as firm and final. In Catholic life, this becomes a foundation for the works of mercy, because the neighbor in need is never only a neighbor. The neighbor becomes a meeting place with Christ.

Verse 41, “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.’”
This is hard, and it is meant to be. Jesus speaks of real judgment and real loss. The fire is described as prepared for the devil and his angels, which shows that hell is not God’s delight. Hell is the terrible end of choosing separation from God.

Verse 42, “For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,”
The condemnation is not framed around spectacular crimes. It begins with refusal to love. This exposes sins of omission, the cold habit of ignoring need.

Verse 43, “a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’”
The pattern continues. The tragedy is not only what they did, but what they failed to do. Indifference becomes a spiritual posture, and that posture becomes a verdict.

Verse 44, “Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’”
They are surprised too. They did not think their indifference mattered. They assumed the absence of love was morally neutral. Jesus shows that it is not.

Verse 45, “He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’”
The logic is the same as verse 40, but now it burns. Refusing the needy is refusing Christ. Neglect becomes personal, because it touches the One who hides Himself in the vulnerable.

Verse 46, “And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”
Jesus ends with two destinies and no third path. The purpose is not despair, but urgency. Lent is given so hearts can turn while there is time, and mercy can become a real habit instead of a missed opportunity.

Teachings

This Gospel teaches that the Last Judgment will reveal what love truly looked like in a human life. It also teaches that mercy is not a side project. Mercy is woven into salvation as the fruit of grace. The Church holds together what modern minds often try to separate: salvation is God’s gift, and that gift transforms the believer into a person who loves in action. This is why the Gospel’s focus is not on empty claims, but on concrete charity.

The Catechism speaks directly about this final unveiling of love. It teaches, CCC 678: “Following in the steps of the prophets and John the Baptist, Jesus announced the judgment of the Last Day in his preaching. Then will the conduct of each one and the secrets of hearts be brought to light. Then will the culpable unbelief that accounted the offer of God’s grace as nothing be condemned. Our attitude toward our neighbor will disclose acceptance or refusal of grace and divine love. On the Last Day Jesus will say: ‘Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.’”

This is exactly what today’s Gospel dramatizes. It also connects seamlessly to the Church’s traditional language about the works of mercy. The Catechism teaches, CCC 2447: “The works of mercy are charitable actions by which we come to the aid of our neighbor in his spiritual and bodily necessities. Instructing, advising, consoling, comforting are spiritual works of mercy, as are forgiving and bearing wrongs patiently. The corporal works of mercy consist especially in feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned, and burying the dead.”

The warning about “eternal fire” also demands clarity. The Church does not treat hell as a metaphor for bad feelings. The Church treats it as the real possibility of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God, chosen through unrepented sin. The Catechism teaches, CCC 1033: “To die in mortal sin without repenting and accepting God’s merciful love means remaining separated from him for ever by our own free choice. This state of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed is called ‘hell.’”

Saints have often summarized this Gospel with a kind of holy bluntness. Saint Teresa of Calcutta captured the point in a line that stays in the mind because it sounds like Matthew 25: “Jesus comes in the distressing disguise of the poor.” That is not a poetic exaggeration. It is a lived interpretation of the King who says, “You did for me.”

Reflection

This Gospel is not meant to turn Lent into panic. It is meant to turn Lent into purpose. Jesus is training the heart to see what matters when the lights go out and eternity begins. The world often measures success by money, status, and comfort. Christ measures love by whether the hungry were fed, whether the stranger was welcomed, and whether the suffering person was visited with real presence.

A serious Lenten step is to stop pretending mercy requires perfect conditions. Mercy usually shows up as interruption. It shows up when someone is tired, distracted, and tempted to scroll past a need because it feels inconvenient. This Gospel invites a different instinct, the instinct to recognize Christ where He has chosen to hide.

One practical way to live this is to choose a single concrete work of mercy and actually schedule it, because good intentions do not feed anyone. Another way is to examine habits of omission, the moments when a person knew what love required and still chose silence, delay, or avoidance. The point is not to spiral into guilt. The point is to repent quickly and start living differently while there is still time.

If Christ walked into today’s life disguised as a person in need, who would be the most likely “least one” already nearby, someone easy to ignore because that person cannot offer anything in return?
Where has indifference started to feel normal, especially toward the poor, the sick, the lonely, or the inconvenient?
What would change this week if love stopped being an idea and became a decision that costs time, comfort, and attention?

Lent is a gift because it gives a clean start. The King who will judge is the same Savior who offers grace right now. The Gospel does not end with fear for the sake of fear. It ends with a clear road to life: love that becomes mercy, and mercy that becomes a meeting with Christ.

When Holiness Becomes Visible

Today’s readings do not leave holiness floating in the clouds. They bring holiness down into the streets, the workplace, the dinner table, and the hidden corners of the heart. In Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18, the Lord commands His people to be holy, not by acting superior, but by living differently. Holiness means speaking truth instead of deception, paying what is owed instead of exploiting, guarding the vulnerable instead of taking advantage, and refusing revenge and grudges that quietly poison the soul. The command that sums it up still lands with force: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

Then Psalm 19:8-10, 15 steps in like a steady lamp, reminding every listener that God’s law is not meant to crush joy. God’s commands refresh the soul, enlighten the eyes, and teach the heart what love actually looks like. The psalm closes with a prayer that belongs on every Lenten tongue: “Let the words of my mouth be acceptable, the thoughts of my heart before you, Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” It is the sound of someone who wants real conversion, not religious performance.

Finally, The Gospel of Matthew 25:31-46 reveals the final measure of that holiness. The King returns in glory, and the dividing line is not self-congratulation or spiritual talk. The dividing line is mercy that became real, or mercy that was postponed until it disappeared. Christ identifies Himself with the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the imprisoned, and He makes a statement that reorders everything: “Whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.” In other words, love for God is proven in love for the neighbor, especially the neighbor who cannot repay.

This is a strong day for a clean start. Lent is not only about avoiding sin, although that matters. Lent is also about becoming the kind of person who actually loves, with a love that shows up in concrete choices and daily sacrifices. The call to action is simple, and it is powerful when it becomes specific. Choose one work of mercy and do it this week with intention, not when it feels convenient. Choose one grudge and surrender it to Christ before it hardens. Choose one habit of careless speech and replace it with truth, restraint, and charity. Then ask God for the grace to keep going, because holiness is not built by willpower alone. Holiness is built by a heart that keeps returning to the Lord, trusting that the same King who will judge the world is also the Redeemer who can remake a life.

Engage with Us!

Readers are invited to share their reflections in the comments below, because God often speaks through the honest witness and encouragement of other believers who are walking the same road of Lent.

  1. First Reading – Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18: Where is God calling for a more concrete holiness right now, especially in truthfulness, justice, or letting go of a grudge that has been held too tightly?
  2. Responsorial Psalm – Psalm 19:8-10, 15: What would change in daily life if God’s commandments were treated as healing light instead of restrictions, and how can the prayer “Let the words of my mouth be acceptable, the thoughts of my heart before you” shape speech and thoughts this week?
  3. Holy Gospel – Matthew 25:31-46: Who is one “least one” that Christ may be placing nearby right now, and what is one specific work of mercy that can be done this week that costs something real, such as time, comfort, or attention?

May God give the grace to live a life of faith with courage and consistency, and may every day be lived with the love, mercy, and practical charity that Jesus taught, so that holiness becomes visible in the way people are treated, especially those most easily forgotten.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, we trust in You!

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us!

Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle! 


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