Daily Gospel Reflection
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June 21, 2025
Jesus said to his disciples:
“No one can serve two masters.
He will either hate one and love the other,
or be devoted to one and despise the other.
You cannot serve God and mammon.
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life,
what you will eat or drink,
or about your body, what you will wear.
Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds in the sky;
they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns,
yet your heavenly Father feeds them.
Are not you more important than they?
Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?
Why are you anxious about clothes?
Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.
They do not work or spin.
But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor
was clothed like one of them.
If God so clothes the grass of the field,
which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow,
will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’
or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’
All these things the pagans seek.
Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these things will be given you besides.
Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself.
Sufficient for a day is its own evil.
I have always been a worrier. I worry a grandchild will get injured on my watch. I worry my adult children are too burdened in their busy lives. I worry about friends grieving the loss of their spouses. I worry a tree in my yard will get struck by lightning and fall. I worry the weight of 37 years of accumulation will cause my attic floor to collapse on me while I sleep.
When I consider my worrying, I worry that I have worried too much. We all know the adage that 90% of the calamities we fear never come to fruition. I rarely acknowledge that most of my worries resolve without adversity. By then, I am already worried about something else.
In “I Worried,” American poet Mary Oliver laments, “Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing/And gave it up/And took my old body and went out into the morning, and sang.” (lines 6-8) Christ teaches us that no one can serve two masters. Worry contradicts my faith. It undermines and opposes my trust in God. It refutes my belief that God will provide for me throughout life’s trials. I cannot serve worry and my faith.
So, I shall trust my grandchildren to God’s care as I take a tiny hand in mine while we skip along. I shall trust God to guide my children as they conquer their challenges. I shall trust God to mend the hearts of my lonely friends as I invite them for a walk or a movie. I shall give glory to God for the shade of my trees. I shall thank God for the treasured memories in my attic. In every greeting card message, my late husband wrote, “Put God first, and all else will follow.” Simple words of advice to live by today, for tomorrow will take care of itself.
Prayer
O God, we can be anxious about so many things, even though Jesus your Son counseled us to be free of worry. Assist us to trust you in all things and to be mindful of your providential care for us. Might we thus receive your abundant gifts openly, cherish them reverently, and share them generously, confident in the inexhaustible concern you show. We make this prayer through Jesus your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, God forever and ever. Amen.
Saint of the Day
St. Aloysius Gonzaga is the patron saint of Catholic young people because of how diligently he pursued holiness before his death at the age of 23.
He was born in 1568 in northern Italy, the oldest son in an aristocratic family. His parents were insiders in royal courts in Italy and Spain. His father wanted Aloysius to become a decorated military leader, so they sent him, even as young as 4 years old, to spend time with soldiers in camps. His tutors had to admonish him for the language he picked up from the troops.
At around the age of 7 he began to dedicate himself to prayer devotions to Mary and Jesus. Increasingly, he would spend time in churches, praying, or in reading the lives of the saints. In fact, throughout his life, he had regular and intimate contact with other saints—he received his first communion from St. Charles Borromeo and had as a spiritual director St. Robert Bellarmine.
Because of his family’s position, he also spent time in the courts, among royalty and their entourage. There he observed the intrigues of ambitious people with their lusts and deceits. This awoke within him a desire for virtue, and he poured himself even more into prayer and service.
When he was 11, he was struck with a disease of his kidneys, which caused him chronic indigestion and enough pain to frequently be confined to bed. He considered it a blessing because it afforded him more time for prayer.
He read a book about Jesuit missionaries in India, and their stories inspired him to join the order to become a missionary himself. As a first step, he began teaching the faith to the poor boys in his own town. He also began to live like a monk, even though he was not yet even a teenager—he got up in the middle of the night to pray the psalms and took on a rule of fasting.
His mother approved of his desire to join the Jesuits, but his father was infuriated. He sent Aloysius around Italy to meet local rulers and he gave his son roles and tasks that immersed him in the life of the ruling class. He hired friends of the family and even clergy to try to dissuade Aloysius, but it only deepened the boy’s resolve.
When it was clear that nothing would change his mind, his father relented. At the age of 18, Aloysius joined the Jesuit novitiate in Rome. As a novice learning the rhythms of Jesuit life, he was subject to rules from his superiors, and his diet and prayer times were closely monitored. He was actually forbidden from too much prayer in an attempt to help him learn how to lead a balanced life.
Aloysius had one overriding passion, however, and that was union with God; he pursued that relationship with all of his being.
He realized he had a privileged upbringing, and in an effort to grow in humility, he sought out service-based tasks such as helping to wash dishes or clean the building.
One day, in prayer, he came to understand that he did not have long to live. He fell more and more into deeper prayer and meditation, and when his peers saw him at meals, and even during recreation times, he seemed to be in some kind of ecstatic contemplation.
In 1591, a plague swept Italy, and the Jesuits opened a hospital in Rome. Aloysius assisted the patients there, washing them and making their beds. He got sick himself, and was prepared to die when, against everyone’s expectations, he recovered. He ran a low fever for months afterwards, which kept him weak. He remained in prayer, and it was revealed to him that he would die on the feast of Corpus Christi.
In the days before his death, he seemed well enough to travel, and his superiors considered sending him to a nearby town for some task there. He replied with his conviction that his life would end soon. The night of his death, he asked his confessor to recite the prayers for the dying, though he didn’t seem to be ill at all. Then, late that night, his health suddenly changed and he died around midnight the night between June 20 and 21. He was only 23.
A number of relics of St. Aloysius rest in the reliquary chapel in the Basilica, and he is depicted in this wall mural there as well. The sketch of St. Aloysius in heaven comes from the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art and is used with permission.
St. Aloysius, patron saint of Catholic young people—pray for us!
Image Credit: (1) Our featured image of St. Aloysius Gonzaga is in the public domain. Last accessed March 19, 2025 on Wikimedia Commons. (3) Giovanni Lanfranco (Italian, 1582-1647), Apotheosis of the Blessed Aloysius Gonzaga with Saint Louis IX of France and Saint Longinus, 1597-1647. Red chalk, pen and brown ink with red wash on laid paper, laid down. Raclin Murphy Museum of Art: Bequest of John D. Reilly ND ’63, ’64 B.S., 2014.061.349
