Friday of the Third Week of Easter

1. Lectio

“The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying,
‘How can this man give us his Flesh to eat?’”

It is a most human reaction:
when faced with mystery, we begin with argument.

They do not walk away immediately.
They do not fall silent in awe.
They quarrel.

And Christ, with a calm that borders on audacity,
does not soften the teaching—
He deepens it.

2. Meditatio

I discovered a small cathedral in my tool shed—
constructed not of stone, but of mud.

A mud dauber’s nest.

My first instinct, being a practical and slightly suspicious man,
was immediate destruction.

Better safe than sorry.
Better to act than to inquire.
Better to remove the threat before it becomes one.

And then, quite annoyingly, my conscience quarreled with me.

“What do you actually know about this creature?”

Which, as it turns out, was not much.

So I learned.

This solitary wasp, far from being an enemy,
is a quiet guardian—
a hunter of spiders, especially the dreaded black widow.

It builds, provides, protects—
and asks very little in return.

And there I stood, broom in hand,
prepared to destroy what I did not understand.

Which, upon reflection, is precisely what the crowd in the Gospel was doing—only more loudly.

“How can this be?”

It is not a question of curiosity,
but of resistance.

For I have learned that a quarrel is not always about disagreement—
it is often about control.

If I can argue it, I can manage it.
If I can explain it away, I can avoid submitting to it.

The Eucharist, like the mud dauber,
does not fit neatly into my categories.

And so I am tempted to reduce it, dismiss it, or domesticate it.

But Christ does not invite me to understand first—
He invites me to remain.

3. Oratio

4. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)

There is a holy stubbornness that stands in contrast to quarrelsome pride.

Saint Fidelis of Sigmaringen preached truth in the midst of violent opposition—not by arguing endlessly, but by witnessing faithfully.

He encountered those who quarreled with the faith,
and answered not with cleverness,
but with constancy.

And for this, he was martyred.

The world quarrels to win.
The saint endures to witness.

The great irony is this:

Those who quarreled in the Gospel sought clarity—
but lost communion.

Fidelis embraced mystery—
and found unity, even unto death.

For faith is not the absence of questions,
but the refusal to let questions become walls.

5. Actio — In Light of Laudato Si’ and Synodality

A rise in the sea level, for example, can create extremely serious situations, if we consider that a quarter of the world’s population lives on the coast or nearby, and that the majority of our megacities are situated in coastal areas.

Laudato si’ §24

Laudato si’ reminds me that creation is not an adversary to be managed, but a gift to be received and understood.

Action:

Today, before reacting or judging—whether a person, situation, or even a “mud dauber moment”—I will pause and ask:
What might I be missing?

For Synodality is not built on winning arguments—
but on walking together through mystery.

6. Song Pairing 🎵

🎶 “Back in Baby’s Arms” by Connie Smith🎵

7. Movie Pairing 🎬

🎬Movie: “The Quarrel” (1991)

8. Poetic Verse

I raised my voice against the strange,
and named it false or wrong—
yet found my certainty was thin,
my argument not strong.

I quarreled with what I could not see,
and nearly turned away—
until a quieter truth remained,
and chose with me to stay.

So let me lose the need to win,
and keep the grace I’ve met—
for better still to dwell in Him
than prove what I forget.