On this Thursday of the second week of Lent, the Liturgy of the Word presents us with a stark contrast: the parched wasteland of self-reliance versus the lush, fruit-bearing life of one who trusts in the Lord. As we reflect on these readings at the Divine Mercy Shrine, we find a profound echo in the Diary of St. Faustina and the humble life of St. John Joseph of the Cross, whose feast we celebrate today.
Jeremiah’s Warning: The Drought of the Heart
In our First Reading (Jeremiah 17:5-10), the prophet Jeremiah delivers a sobering message. He speaks of the man who “puts his trust in man” and “relies on things of flesh” as being like “dry scrub in the wastelands.” This person is spiritually blind, even when good comes, they have no eyes for it because their heart has turned from the Lord.
This reflects a truth Jesus often shared with St. Faustina. He told her:
“The graces of My mercy are drawn by means of one vessel only, and that is, trust. The more a soul trusts, the more it will receive.” (Diary, 1578)
When we trust only in our own strength or worldly security, we settle in “parched places.” But Jeremiah promises that the one who trusts in the Lord is like a tree by the waterside, unfased by heat, always green, and never ceasing to bear fruit.
The Psalm of Two Paths
Our Responsorial Psalm (Psalm 1) reinforces this choice: “Happy are they who hope in the Lord.” The Psalmist describes the righteous man as one who “ponders His law day and night.” This isn’t just about reading words; it’s about a relationship that feeds the soul.
In the Diary, Faustina writes about the necessity of this constant “pondering” or interior gaze:
“My silence is a constant conversation with God. A soul that is silent is a strong soul… God speaks to a soul that is silent.” (Diary, 477)
Like the tree planted by flowing waters, the soul that stays close to the stream of Divine Mercy “yields its fruit in due season.” The wicked, however, are like “winnowed chaff” driven by the wind, lacking the weight and substance that only God’s grace can provide.
The Gospel: The Great Gulf and the Hardness of Heart
The Gospel (Luke 16:19-31) brings these themes to life through the parable of Dives and Lazarus. The rich man’s sin was a devastating indifference. He sat in his “fine linen” while Lazarus lay at his gate, ignored.
In the Diary, Jesus expresses His deep sorrow over souls that ignore His Mercy:
“The flames of mercy are burning Me… souls just don’t want to believe in My goodness.” (Diary, 177)
The “great gulf” fixed between Abraham and the rich man in the afterlife was actually dug during their earthly lives. Every time the rich man chose self-indulgence over the suffering of his neighbor, the gap widened. St. Faustina reminds us that our “conduct and actions,” as Jeremiah noted, determine our eternity.
St. John Joseph of the Cross: A Bridge of Poverty
Today we also remember St. John Joseph of the Cross, a Franciscan who embodied the opposite of the rich man. He embraced “Lady Poverty” so completely that he often went without shoes and wore the same habit for decades.
While the rich man in the Gospel was “covered in fine linen,” St. John Joseph was covered in the humility of Christ. He spent his life bridging the gulf between the rich and the poor, understanding that to be “like a tree planted beside flowing waters,” one must be stripped of worldly attachments.
Lenten Reflection
Today, let us ask ourselves:
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Are my roots stretching toward the stream of God’s Mercy, or am I settling in the “parched places” of my own ego?
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Who is the “Lazarus” at my gate, a lonely neighbor, a family member in need of forgiveness, or a stranger seeking a smile?
“Happy are they who hope in the Lord.”
May we have the courage to listen to the Word of God today and repent, knowing that even if we have been indifferent, the doors of Divine Mercy remain open for us to enter.
A Prayer for the Heart of Mercy
Lord Jesus, You are the living water that sustains our souls.
Forgive us for the times we have sought comfort in the “parched places” of our own pride, and for the moments we have relied on our own strength instead of Your infinite Mercy. We confess that our hearts can be devious and indifferent, building gulfs between ourselves and our brothers and sisters who suffer at our gates.
Through the intercession of St. John Joseph of the Cross, help us to strip away the “fine linen” of our vanity. Teach us to embrace a holy poverty of spirit, so that we may find our true wealth in You alone. Like the tree planted by the flowing stream, may our roots reach deep into Your Sacred Heart, keeping us green and fruitful even in the seasons of drought and trial.
Search our hearts, O Lord, and remove the scales from our eyes. Grant us a generous heart to recognise Lazarus in our midst, and the perseverance to yield a harvest of love. May we never be winnowed away like chaff, but remain firmly grounded in the hope of Your Resurrection.
St. Faustina, pray for us.
St. John Joseph of the Cross, pray for us.
Jesus, I trust in You.