Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 31, 2025
As I prayed over this weekend’s readings, one line from the second reading kept jumping from the page: In the letter to the Hebrews, we heard that the blood of Jesus, "speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.”
Adam and Eve’s son, Abel, who was innocent and then killed by his own brother, foreshadows Jesus.
In the book of Genesis, after Abel's blood is spilled by his brother Cain, God said to Cain, “Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.”
In Jewish thought, spilled blood is never silent: It cries to God for justice.
Hearing that, how can what happened at the school in Minneapolis not come to mind? How can we not think of the innocent blood spilled there, which cries out to God for justice, and cries out to us for a response?
…Sadly, every time a tragedy like this happens, the value of prayer seems to be diminished and even mocked. Some have even said, “The children were praying, and yet they were shot.”
But this misunderstands prayer: Prayer does not supply a magical forcefield of protection, nor is it powerless. Rather, prayer changes hearts; it changes our hearts and others’ to be more Godly. Prayer is the foundation of Godly work. Without prayer, far less good happens. We should be praying far more, not less.
…So, what should prayer inspire us to do? From this tragedy, prayer should inspire us not to ignore signs of mental illness, but to treat these persons seriously and compassionately. Prayer should also move us to ask our leaders to consider ways to make our communities safer.
As Catholics, we know that no crisis is solved by one thing alone: Not prayer alone, not mental health alone, not laws alone. True healing requires all these working together.
…The fact that the United States has by far the most mass shootings of any country should make obvious that our culture is not well. Too often, in our culture, prayer is dismissed, the struggles of mental illness are overlooked or misunderstood, and differences in opinion make us lack respect and compassion for one another.
But, while we may feel powerless about national laws or incidents, we do have great influence where it matters most: Within our families. How can we call ourselves Christian and be rotten to a family member? How can we call ourselves Christian and hold grudges? How can we call ourselves Christian when we hold resentment in our heart for a family member who doesn’t believe the same thing as us?
In the second reading, again, we heard that Christ’s blood “speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.” Why? Because Christ’s blood cries to God for us for God’s mercy, while Abel’s blood cries for justice. Both mercy and justice are needed in our world, and, through prayer, a lot of prayer, we can bring justice and mercy into our own hearts, our homes, our church, and our culture.