Daily Gospel Reflection
Join the Notre Dame family of faith. Receive God’s Word and a unique reflection in your inbox each day.
July 14, 2025
Jesus said to his Apostles:
“Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth.
I have come to bring not peace but the sword.
For I have come to set
a man against his father,
a daughter against her mother,
and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law;
and one’s enemies will be those of his household.
“Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,
and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;
and whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me.
Whoever finds his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
“Whoever receives you receives me,
and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.
Whoever receives a prophet because he is a prophet
will receive a prophet’s reward,
and whoever receives a righteous man
because he is righteous
will receive a righteous man’s reward.
And whoever gives only a cup of cold water
to one of these little ones to drink
because he is a disciple–
amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.”
When Jesus finished giving these commands to his Twelve disciples,
he went away from that place to teach and to preach in their towns.
One reason I’m grateful for my Catholic education is the presence of a crucifix in nearly every room. Rather than a reminder of something gruesome or of torture, we who are blessed to know of the resurrection can see it as a reminder of Christ’s love. When the cross becomes part of the background, however, we risk growing numb to its meaning.
I often catch myself walking past the crucifix—whether in the Mendoza atrium or in South Dining Hall—without noticing. How can so many of us pass by someone hanging in suffering, someone they call their Savior, without pausing?
This oversight reveals a deeper spiritual struggle: when we forget the weight of the cross, we risk forgetting the cost of love. As St. Maximilian Kolbe said, “The cross is the school of love.” Christ’s suffering isn’t just a historical fact; it’s an ongoing invitation to live differently.
Today’s gospel calls us to take up our own crosses in response to a love that mercifully gives everything. Though we are not worthy, as we profess before receiving the Eucharist, Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross and continual outpouring of love in the Eucharist remind us that our identity lies not in what we do, but in who we belong to as beloved children of God.
As Blessed Basil Moreau prayed in his suscipe, “If I am all that I am, it is only for him, and I must strive unceasingly towards him as my center.” That striving begins not with grand acts but quiet moments of encounter: pausing before a crucifix to remember the love that bore all suffering, and letting that love stir our hearts to carry our own crosses with hope.
May we fix our gaze on Christ on the cross and in the Eucharist, not as a static symbol but as the living example of how we are called to love.
Prayer
Lord, help us to remain true to our core Christian values, no matter what the price. When it comes to those we love, please help us hold them lightly in our hands, always preserving their freedom, rather than grasping or clinging. Finally, may we always be ready to help those who truly need help. Amen.
Saint of the Day
St. Kateri Tekakwitha was a Native American who was known as the “Lily of the Mohawks" for her purity and devotion.
She was born in 1656 in what is now New York; her indigenous name is Tekakwitha. Her father was a Mohawk warrior, and her mother was an Algonquin who was captured and brought into the Mohawk tribe.
When she was four years old, both of her parents and her brother died of smallpox. Tekakwitha survived the disease, which left scars on her face and damaged her eyesight; she was adopted by her extended family. As she grew up, she would avoid social gatherings because of her scars, and sometimes wore a shawl or veil over her face.
When she was 17, Tekakwitha’s family encouraged her to marry, but she refused. Soon after that, she met a Jesuit missionary and began learning about the Catholic faith. When she was 19, she was baptized and took the name “Catherine,” or “Kateri,” after Catherine of Siena.
Because of her faith and her unusual reluctance to conform to traditional practices to marry, Kateri was shunned by her family and village. They ridiculed her, gave her difficult workloads, and threatened her. She left her home village to live in a Jesuit mission for Native Americans on the St. Lawrence River south of Montreal.
She continued to grow in the faith there, practicing rigorous mortifications. In 1679, Kateri formally dedicated her virginity to God, and encouraged a number of other women who felt the same calling.
When she was 24, her health faltered, in part due to her zealous fasting and harsh bodily disciplines. Kateri died during Holy Week in 1680. She is reported to have appeared to several of her friends and family after her death, telling them that she was “on her way to heaven,” and a number of cures were reported by people who appealed to her for help in prayer.
St. Kateri was canonized in 2012 following a miracle in Washington State when a boy was cured of a flesh-eating bacterium through her intercession. The chapel in Welsh Family Hall is named after St. Kateri Tekakwitha, and the image and statue shown above are displayed there.
St. Kateri Tekakwitha, Lily of the Mohawks—pray for us!