How can I, on this Fifth Sunday of Lent, embrace the Gospel’s message—”#Neither do I condemn you“—by rethinking the ethical use of my God-given talents as urged by Laudato si’, finding hope in the unchanged beauty of our blooming Redbud tree at The Glenn despite the winter storm, and still prudently prepare for my son Daniel’s passing while praying for a miracle through the intercession of the Venerable Fulton J. Sheen❓
Lectio Divina on the word “neither“
Reading I
In this moment, I realize that neither the weight of past regrets nor the fear of future unknowns can define what God is doing right now. Even in the shadows of grief and uncertainty, see, I am doing something new! The bloom of the Redbud tree at The Glenn, resilient after the storm, reminds me that God’s grace is always unfolding in unexpected beauty.
Responsorial Psalm
Neither the reality of hospice care nor the slow goodbye of our son Daniel can erase the joy we’ve known together. The sound of children playing, the rhythm of farm life, and the warmth of our gathered family are evidence enough that The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
Reading 2
Though my heart aches, I remember that neither my strength nor my sorrow can match the worth of what I have found in Christ. In asking for a miracle while preparing for loss, I walk a road of surrender. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things, and yet, strangely, I feel more whole than empty.
Verse Before the Gospel
Even in my questioning, neither bitterness nor doubt holds sway for long. I find myself drawn again to prayer, to trust, to mercy. As I look toward the altar with Daniel’s name spoken in intercession, I hear the whisper of divine compassion: Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart; for I am gracious and merciful.
Gospel
Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
But early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area,
and all the people started coming to him,
and he sat down and taught them.
Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman
who had been caught in adultery
and made her stand in the middle.
They said to him,
“Teacher, this woman was caught
in the very act of committing adultery.
Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.
So what do you say❓”
They said this to test him,
so that they could have some charge to bring against him.
Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger.
But when they continued asking him,
he straightened up and said to them,
“Let the one among you who is without sin
be the first to throw a stone at her.”
And so I kneel—not with demands, but with hope. I remember that the One who sees deepest into the soul also loves without condition. In that sacred silence, I hear the voice I long for:
Human creativity cannot be suppressed. If an artist cannot be stopped from using his or her creativity, neither should those who possess particular gifts for the advancement of science and technology be prevented from using their God-given talents for the service of others. We need constantly to rethink the goals, effects, overall context and ethical limits of this human activity, which is a form of power involving considerable risks.
FROM PARAGRAPH 131 OF THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER LAUDATO SI’ OF THE HOLY FATHER FRANCIS ON CARE FOR OUR COMMON HOME