Daily Gospel Reflection
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January 17, 2025
When Jesus returned to Capernaum after some days,
it became known that he was at home.
Many gathered together so that there was no longer room for them,
not even around the door,
and he preached the word to them.
They came bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men.
Unable to get near Jesus because of the crowd,
they opened up the roof above him.
After they had broken through,
they let down the mat on which the paralytic was lying.
When Jesus saw their faith, he said to him,
“Child, your sins are forgiven.”
Now some of the scribes were sitting there asking themselves,
“Why does this man speak that way? He is blaspheming.
Who but God alone can forgive sins?”
Jesus immediately knew in his mind what
they were thinking to themselves,
so he said, “Why are you thinking such things in your hearts?
Which is easier, to say to the paralytic,
‘Your sins are forgiven,’
or to say, ‘Rise, pick up your mat and walk’?
But that you may know
that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth”
–he said to the paralytic,
“I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home.”
He rose, picked up his mat at once,
and went away in the sight of everyone.
They were all astounded
and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this.”
Whenever I read a passage where the scribes or Pharisees question the authority of Jesus, I ask myself: What is it that makes them question? Is it fear they will lose authority? Is it hubris that they know the mind of God? Confronted with Jesus in the same way, what would my own reaction be? Would I accept that he has the authority and ability to forgive sin, or would I need it proven to me by witnessing a miraculous healing? Upon seeing the miracle, would I still find reasons to doubt?
As I consider my journey in faith, I am confronted by my own vacillations between the need to have it proven to me at different times in my life and others where I accepted the truth of Jesus Christ on faith. During the times I entrusted myself to God, I was intentional in my spiritual life, and I found deep value in individual and collective prayer and contemplation. In the times when I sought more proof as a precursor to faith, I was fearful, scattered, and did not participate in either prayer or genuine contemplation.
Whether it be the fear of losing authority, the hubris of believing we know God’s mind, or any number of the other limiting excuses we use for not surrendering to belief, it keeps us closed to the new possibilities offered by Jesus Christ. Viewed in this light, I take today’s gospel as a challenge to retreat from the division between spiritual healing and the temporal world. Instead, we are invited to view a life of faith in, for, and through Christ’s unity.
May we each seek his forgiveness by crowding his home and doing whatever is necessary to find an audience with our Lord.
Prayer
Heavenly Father, those who love you bear witness to this love by sharing it with others. Help us to grow in love, and strengthen us to reach out to those in need and lead them to you, so that all who are burdened in this life may experience healing in body and soul. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Saint of the Day
St. Anthony the Abbot is the famous father of monasticism in the Church—he took the Gospel literally and gave everything away to seek God in prayer.
Anthony was born in Egypt in 251, and when his parents died when he was about 20 years old, he assumed responsibility for the family’s 300 acres and for the care of his sister.
One day at Mass, he heard the words of Jesus proclaimed from this Gospel passage: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (Mt 19:21). The passage moved him to action, and he walked out of the Church at that moment and gave away all of his property except what he and his sister needed for sustenance.
Later, he heard Jesus’ words from this passage: “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil” (Mt 6:34). He immediately gave away the rest of their property and entrusted his sister to the care of a convent. He began a simple life on the outskirts of town, embracing only prayer, fasting, and manual labor.
When he was thirty-five, he moved even further out of town to live alone in an abandoned fort. He received rations of bread only a few times a year and spoke to people through a crack in the wall. By this time, he was becoming well-known for his faithfulness and wisdom and people sought him out for counsel and healing.
Feeling disturbed by the crowds who were seeking him out, he went deep into the desert, where he lived by a small spring of water. His life took on a rhythm of prayer and work, a pattern that continues to sustain monastic communities today. Soon, hundreds of people followed his example by going into the desert to live an ascetical life of prayer, and they began to loosely congregate into communities.
During his time in the desert, Anthony became friends with St. Paul the Hermit, whose feast day fell two days ago. The two friends are depicted in murals that face one another in the Basilica, and they are also shown receiving bread from a bird in this woodcut from the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art (seen below). Relics of both of them stand in the reliquary chapel.
Anthony died at the age of one hundred and five. St. Athanasius, who knew Anthony and wrote his story, said, "Anthony was not known for his writings nor for his worldly wisdom, nor for any art, but simply for his reverence toward God." He is depicted here with a book of Scripture that is aflame because God’s word sparked a fire in him to devote his whole life to God.
St. Anthony the Abbot, who sought perfection by giving away everything in order to seek treasure in heaven—pray for us!
Image credit: Albrecht Dürer (German, 1471-1528), St. Anthony Visits St. Paul in the Wilderness, ca. 1503, woodcut. Raclin Murphy Museum of Art: Acquired with funds provided by the Humana Endowment for American Art, 1991.001.157.