Third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Today’s Invitation
Today we invite you to explore the localization of global politics and unrest through a critical reflection on Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians; engage our neighbors in true work for justice; and embody work in our communities with a contemplative prayer and the example of Motels4Now in South Bend, Indiana.
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Reading 1
On the first day of the seventh month, Ezra the scribe brought out the Book of the Law before the assembled people, women and men, and children old enough to understand the reading. Ezra read the book aloud from early morning until noon while facing the broad expanse before the Water Gate, in the presence of the women and men and children. All listened attentively to the book of the Law. Ezra stood on a wooden platform made for the purpose. He opened the book in the presence of all the people. When he opened the book all stood up. When Ezra blessed YHWH, the great God,
all the people raised their hands with the response, “Amen, Amen”; then they bowed their heads and worshipped YHWH lying
face down on the ground. Ezra read plainly from the book of the Law of YHWH, and the Levites interpreted it and gave it meaning so that the people understood it. Then Nehemiah the governor and Ezra the priest and scribe, along with the Levites, instructed the people, saying to all of them, “This day is holy to the Most High, YHWH. Do not mourn. Do not weep” — for the people all had been weeping as they listened to the words of the Law. Nehemiah continued, “Go now and enjoy rich food and sweet wine, and be certain that you send a share to those who cannot provide for themselves, for this day is holy to YHWH. Let no one be sad, for YHWH’s joy is your strength.
Responsorial Psalm
Response: Your words, O God, are spirit and life.
Your law, O God, is perfect; / it refreshes the soul.
Your rule is to be trusted; / it gives wisdom to the simple.
R: Your words, O God, are spirit and life.
Your precepts, O God, are right; / they gladden the heart.
Your command is clear, / it gives light to the eyes.
R: Your words, O God, are spirit and life.
Fear of You, O God, is holy, / abiding forever.
Your decrees are faithful, / and all of them just.
R: Your words, O God, are spirit and life.
May the spoken word of my mouth, / the thoughts of my heart,
Win favor in Your sight, O God, / my rescuer, my rock!
R: Your words, O God, are spirit and life.
Reading 2
The body is one, even though it has many parts; all the parts — many though they are — comprise a single body. And so it is with Christ. It was by one Spirit that all of us, whether we are Jews or Greeks, slaves or citizens, were baptized into one body. All of us have been given to drink of the one Spirit. And that Body is not one part; it is many.
If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” does that make it any less a part of the body? If the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” would that make it any less a part of the body? If the body were all eye, what would happen to our hearing? If it were all ear, what would happen to our sense of smell? Instead of that, God put all the different parts into one body on purpose. If all the parts were alike, where would the body be?
They are, indeed, many different members, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I do not need you,” any more than the head can say to the feet, “I do not need you.” And even those members of the body that seem less important are in fact indispensable. We honor the members we consider less honorable by clothing them with greater care, thus bestowing on the less presentable a propriety that the more presentable do not need. God has so constructed the body as to give greater honor to the lowly members, that there may be no dissension in the body, but that all the members may be concerned for one another. If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share the joy. If one member is honored, all the members share the joy.
You, then, are the body of Christ, and each of you is a member of it. Furthermore, God has set up in the church, first, apostles; second, prophets; third, teachers; then miracle workers, healers, assistants, administrators and those who speak in tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles or have the gift of healing? Do all speak in tongues, or do all have the gift of interpretation of tongues?
Gospel
Many others have undertaken to compile a narrative of the events that have been fulfilled among us, exactly as those happenings were passed on to us by the original eyewitnesses and ministers of the Word. I too have investigated everything carefully from the beginning and have decided to set it down in writing for you, noble Theophilus, so that you may see how reliable the instruction was that you received.
Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee, and his reputation spread throughout the region. He was teaching in the Galilean synagogues, and all were loud in their praise. Jesus came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. Entering the synagogue on the Sabbath, as was his habit, Jesus stood up to do the reading. When the book of the prophet Isaiah was handed to Jesus, he unrolled the scroll and found the passage where it was written:
“The spirit of Our God is upon me; because the Most High has anointed me to bring Good News to those who are poor. God has sent me to proclaim liberty to those held captive, recovery of sight to those who are blind, and release to those in prison — to proclaim the year of Our God’s favor.” Rolling up the scroll, Jesus gave it back to the assistant and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he said to them, “Today, in your hearing, this Scripture passage is fulfilled.”
The Inclusive Lectionary © 2022 FutureChurch. All rights reserved.
The inclusive language psalms:
Leach, Maureen, O.S.F. and Schreck, Nancy, O.S.F., Psalms Anew: A Non-sexist Edition
(Dubuque, IA: The Sisters of St. Francis, 1984).
Used with permission.
Explore
The Localization of Political Unrest
Today’s readings are, in some sense, stories about returning home. In our first reading from the Book of Nehemiah, the Israelites returned home after 70-some years of exile in Babylon. The people wept and rejoiced as they, for the first time, heard God’s word proclaimed in a place where they call home. For the first time in generations, the people no longer lived in constant displacement and exile in a hostile foreign land, but saw possibilities for a restored community of belonging, abundance, and mutual care.
In our gospel, Jesus also returns home to Nazareth where he was raised, to proclaim the good news of liberation to the poor by reading from the words of the prophet Isaiah. The Gospel of Luke took the time to remind its readers that this synagogue where Jesus proclaims this message of liberation is also the synagogue where Jesus was raised as a child. Jesus returns to his hometown to proclaim God’s good news for the blind, for the captive, and for the poor in his home community.
This past semester, I taught a theology course on global issues of peace and violence. Every unit, we as a class learned about issues from Israeli settlements in the West Bank, to Palestinian liberation theology, to the witnesses of the Jesuit Martyrs of El Salvador. But as important as it was for us to read about theories and theologies of global peace, decoloniality, and liberation, it was equally important, at the end of every unit, for us to “return home.” In our case, it is our home community of South Bend, Indiana: an ever-revitalizing Rust Belt city with a rising immigrant population, long histories of redlining, police violence, and structural barriers to housing access. As important as it was for us as a class to envision what peace in Palestine or Syria might look like, it was equally important for us to return every unit to be grounded in these local issues of peace and violence here at home – local issues of immense violence and deprivation that often do not make the news. Together as a class, we talked about how peace and justice begin here at home, and begin with ensuring justice for the marginalized communities in the places we live in. We ask: What does it mean to not only care for the Black and Brown children abroad, but to care for the Black and Brown children in our own downtown area by advocating for equal housing access, and advocating against the defunding of local public schools?
It is easy, for some of us in activist circles, to proclaim liberation for the world from the comfort of home, where we preach grand messages of liberation and peace through our social media platforms and theological writings. It is difficult to return home to our imperfect communities and commit to feeding the hungry ones among us. It is difficult to return home and commit to sheltering the unhoused (through the building of homeless shelters or income-restricted housing) in our own neighborhood communities, especially if it means a decrease in our own homes’ property values.
It is easy to preach, perhaps from the pulpit of our well-funded churches, beautiful messages about global liberation without considering the very inequalities – and material differences – within our own communities. This is perhaps what Paul had done in his letter to the Corinthians: Paul preached this beautiful grand message (a message now forever memorialized by the catchy John Michael Talbot hymn “One Bread, One Body”) of unity-in-diversity and of honoring the weakest members of our communities. Paul preached about how we as a church are all one body of many parts – whether slave or free, Greek or Jew, man or woman. But in the very same epistle, Paul’s other messages neglected the needs of women in his own community, and continued to preach against the material freedom of enslaved early Christians.
Paul preached a grand message of liberation and of what an ideal community looks like. But at the end of the day, Paul failed to work toward leveling these material power differences in the places he called home: his writings continued to denigrate Jewish religious practices and compared them to “spiritual slavery,” as he continued to promise spiritual freedom to free Christians while rejecting demands of material freedom for enslaved Christians.
But our first reading and gospel offer us an alternate message of grounded hope and action. The prophet Ezra and Jesus both preached and proclaimed God’s word of macroscopic liberation – but they did so while being grounded in the concrete needs of their home communities: ensuring that the poor in their communities are fed, that the exiled ones have a home to return to, and the disabled ones receive care and kinship. May we, as we reflect on God’s word and God’s promise for the world, do the same.

Commentary by Flora Tang
Engage Catholic Social Teaching
We live in a time where global issues of genocide, war, and neocolonial violence may feel paralyzing to many of us. We listen to today’s readings in a time in January 2025 where the transition of presidential administrations in the US, and its accompanying proposed legislative changes to human rights, to immigrant justice, and beyond are materially damaging to many of our lives – and at the same time, we may feel as if these nation-wide legislative changes are beyond our control.
But our gospel and first reading today give us a hope and a demand during these times of anxiety. They call us to bring our grand ideas and hopes for global justice and liberation – our big, amazing theologies – back to a particular place. We, just like the figures returning home in our scriptural readings today, are called to build peace and justice beginning from our very own home communities. Recognizing that peace begins geographically here at home liberates us during this time of paralyzing anxiety and gives us the motivation – and a concrete, geographical place – to begin our collective work of justice.
For many of us during this time, this means looking out for our very own neighbors experiencing homelessness, deportation, or financial insecurity. This means attending boring, stuffy city council meetings to ensure that zoning laws allow for the building of homeless shelters. This means supporting our migrant/immigrant friends through sitting with them as they fill out tedious paperwork in order to remain in the country. This means driving the refugee family in my neighborhood to a grocery store every week before the family was able to get a US driver’s license and a car.
Sometimes, I am tempted to think that only going to large protests or posting infographics on social media count as “political activism” during these trying times. But being grounded in my own South Bend, Indiana community (and becoming immersed in my community members’ urgent, everyday needs) remind me that the work of justice begins here at home, and often looks plain, tedious, and unimpressive. It is time for all of us who preach and pray with the liberating good news of Jesus Christ to also commit to these types of unimpressive, ordinary forms of justice-building in our home communities.
A Contemplative Exercise
Loving God,
You are the God who brings your people home from exile.
You are the Word-made-flesh, who became human and who found a home here on earth, in Galilee, in Nazareth.
You are the Spirit that anoints us to proclaim the good news to the poor among us.
Guide us today,
amidst our anxieties and amidst our transitions,
amidst moments of hope and amidst threats of apathetic despair,
To remember the places where we call home,
To remember the people today in exile and displacement who are away from home,
those who left home to flee violence,
those who left home to seek better lives,
and those who are left without a home this winter.
Help us proclaim – and become – your good news of liberation for these and all our siblings
with whom we share this earth, our home.
Amen.
Reflection Questions
- What are places where you consider your home? Who are the people in your home community? How are you called to love them today?
- How will you commit to praying – and reflecting and organizing – for both our various global communities facing violence or injustice and for members of your local communities facing violence, homelessness, and suffering?
- When news of humanitarian crises and global suffering (rightfully) capture our attention and bring us sorrow, how do you remain grounded in the liberative message of Jesus Christ and remain grounded in the determination to continue to love our global and local neighbors, even when love seems futile in the face of large scale violence and injustice? What practices can we commit to so that we remain grounded in the possibility of hope during times of trial?
A Community
Motels4Now is an organization in South Bend, Indiana that converted an old motel into temporary housing for unhoused populations, while offering them educational opportunities, addiction recovery services, mental health support, and other programming that allows for a smoother transition into more permanent housing. The organization is the only homeless shelter in town that operates under a “housing first” model – where unhoused guests are offered access to temporary or permanent housing without preconditions such as addiction treatment participation or sobriety. In other words, housing is a human right, rather than a privilege only reserved for people who have recovered from drug addictions. Only when people have a place to live can they be in a place to receive ongoing addiction treatment and care.
The organization is affiliated with the St. Peter Claver Catholic Worker community in South Bend, which also serves unhoused populations downtown. Despite various attempts on the part of the local government to defund the program or to move Motels4Now to a more remote location (so that the unhoused population can be “out of sight and out of mind”), the organization has served 775 unhoused guests in South Bend, with 250 of them now permanently housed. The witness of the staff members, guests, and friends of Motels4Now reminds us all to commit to the works of mercy in our own communities, especially for the many low-income and unhoused populations in our urban areas.