GOSPEL MEDITATION - ENCOURAGE DEEPER UNDERSTANDING OF SCRIPTURE

February 1, 2026

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Matthew 5:1-12a

A priest I know was once falsely accused of a terrible crime. The claim was wild and easily disproved, but for a while, it didn’t matter. In the atmosphere shaped by the abuse crisis of the early 2000s, the public assumption was guilty until proven innocent. His name was dragged through the mud, and his ministry placed on hold. I had the privilege — and the burden — of walking closely with him during that time.

He was angry. He was confused. He felt abandoned and deeply disoriented. The last thing on his mind was the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel: “Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you falsely because of me … Rejoice and be glad” (Matthew 5:11-12). Rejoice? He felt anything but.

And yet… something holy slowly grew in him. Not overnight, and not without pain. But as the truth came to light and his name was cleared, I watched him become more Christlike — more patient, more compassionate, more detached from human approval.

Maybe you haven’t faced something so dramatic. But where do you feel judged? Misrepresented? Overlooked? Maybe someone else got the credit or the promotion. Maybe someone you love isn’t getting their due. In those moments, the Cross of Jesus is near. When we feel accused, that’s when we ask him for the grace not just to endure, but somehow, mysteriously, to rejoice and be glad.

— Father John Muir

(PRACTICING) CATHOLIC - RECOGNIZE GOD IN YOUR ORDINARY MOMENTS

By Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman



What Stays the Same

Somewhere, there is a monk whose life is very quiet and who devotes long hours to prayer. And somewhere there is a nun, cloistered in a life of contemplation, who speaks very little except to God.

Somewhere, there is a father whose days are filled with noise, who hasn’t finished a Rosary in years because he keeps falling asleep. Somewhere there is a mother whose voice is weak with giving direction and offering counsel.

Somewhere, there is a teenage girl with much to say, but few people to listen — fewer, at least, than she would like.

Somewhere there is a woman who holds a positive pregnancy test in one hand and a phone in the other, and somewhere there is a man on the other end of that phone who waits for her to speak.

In the Beatitudes, Jesus utilizes a literary device called anaphora. Both as a reader and a writer, I love anaphora. It’s a clean, unfussy way to communicate a point. By repeating the same word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses, you’re basically saying the same thing over and over again, just a little bit differently each time. Those small differences tease at your audience’s brain, gently highlighting the consistencies.

Discipleship is a lot like anaphora. It’s the differences — those little aberrations from person to person, life to life — that so beautifully illustrate what remains the same across the broad spectrum of what it means to live out the Beatitudes.

Me. You. The monk. The nun. The father. The mother. The lonely girl. The man and woman who decided their own future without realizing it. How similar we all are in sin. How similar we all are in potential. How different we look to the world.

And yet, how wondrous it is that we are all offered the same hope: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in Heaven.”

St. Blaise | February 3

You may be familiar with the annual “blessing of throats” that many parishes in the United States use to commemorate the beloved bishop and martyr. St. Blaise lived in the fourth century in Turkey and Armenia. Due to religious persecution, he was forced to flee and hide in a cave in the back country in order to save his life.

History has it that one day a group of hunters stumbled upon where St. Blaise was living. They found the bishop kneeling in prayer, surrounded by wolves, lions, and bears that he had tamed. The legend has it that as the hunters dragged Blaise off to prison, a mother came with her young son who had a fish bone lodged in his throat. At Blaise’s command, the child was able to cough up the bone and thus lived.

Today we remember the saint on his feast day by taking two candles, crossing them against the throat, and saying the following prayer:

Through the intercession of St. Blaise, bishop and martyr, may God deliver you from ailments of the throat and from every other evil. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.