Lectio Divina
Friday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time
Theme: “Wish”
1. Lectio
Gospel: Matthew 8:1–4
«”Lord, if you wish, you can make me clean.”»
The leper approaches Jesus with astonishing confidence. He does not doubt Christ’s power; he questions only His wish. “If you wish…” The leper knows Jesus is able. He simply entrusts himself to whether Jesus desires to heal him.
The response is immediate and breathtaking:
«”I do will it. Be made clean.”»
The distance between human misery and divine mercy is crossed by the will of Christ. The miracle begins not with the leper’s strength but with Jesus’ desire. The cleansing of leprosy becomes a revelation that God’s deepest wish is not exclusion but restoration.
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2. Meditatio
One thing I have learned from working with Livestock Guardian Dogs here at The Glenn is that they are unlike almost any other breed of dog. They are fiercely independent thinkers. They will not simply obey because I command them. If they do not wish to do something, they simply will not do it. It is one of the reasons they make extraordinary guardians but rather poor household pets.
The paradox strikes me every day: God has created me with much the same freedom.
He does not desire pets who merely perform tricks on command. He desires sons and daughters whose wills freely cooperate with His own. Love cannot be programmed. Obedience that is forced is no obedience at all.
Yet this freedom also explains why my life sometimes becomes tangled. My wishes often differ from God’s. I cling stubbornly to my own plans, convinced that I know what will protect The Glenn, my family, or even the Church. God, however, quietly continues working with me instead of against me. As Pope Francis beautifully observed, “The Holy Spirit possesses an infinite creativity… knowing how to loosen the knots of human affairs.” God is never trapped by my mistakes. He somehow manages to weave even my failures into His providence.
This same confidence underlies the Church’s social teaching.
In the devastation following the Second World War, Pope Pius XII recognized that peace would never endure if nations simply pursued whatever they wished. The wishes of the powerful, left unchecked, become the oppression of the weak. Instead, he insisted that law must stand above mere interests, that justice must precede utility, and that society flourishes through families, associations, and local communities that stand between isolated individuals and centralized power.
His insight remains remarkably fresh. Whenever my own wishes become my only law, I become a little tyrant. Whenever a nation elevates its wishes above justice, it becomes a dangerous empire. The remedy is always the same: allowing something higher than my own desires to govern me.
The leper’s prayer suddenly becomes my own.
He does not demand.
He does not negotiate.
He does not insist that Jesus adopt his wishes.
He simply kneels and says, “Lord, if You wish…”
That is perhaps the purest prayer I can offer while tending sheep, repairing fences, training dogs, or wrestling with difficult decisions at The Glenn. I place my wishes before Christ, but I leave them there. My freedom is not diminished when His wish prevails. It is finally fulfilled.
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3. Oratio
Lord Jesus,
So often I bring You my plans instead of my heart. I ask You to bless what I have already decided rather than asking what You desire for me.
Teach me the humility of the leper.
May I never doubt Your power, nor question Your love. Instead, let my deepest prayer become, “Lord, if You wish.”
Shape my wishes until they resemble Yours.
Bless my work at The Glenn. Guide my care of the sheep, the guardian dogs, and every creature entrusted to me. Help me to remember that You seek not reluctant servants but willing friends whose freedom is perfected in love.
When my wishes lead me astray, untangle the knots I have tied. When Your will seems mysterious, give me patience. When Your answer surprises me, give me gratitude.
May Your wish become my joy.
Amen.
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4. Contemplatio (Chestertonian Synthesis)
Modern people often imagine freedom means getting everything they wish.
The Gospel quietly laughs at this illusion.
The freest man who ever walked the earth was Jesus Christ, and nearly every day He preferred His Father’s wish to His own comfort. His freedom consisted not in escaping obedience but in loving it.
That is the glorious paradox.
My Livestock Guardian Dogs remind me that independence alone is not freedom. A creature may refuse every command and yet remain captive to its own instincts. The truly free creature is the one whose will has discovered the joy of harmony.
Heaven is not a place where everyone gets his own way. Heaven is the place where everyone has learned to rejoice in God’s way.
Chesterton delighted in paradox because Christianity is built upon them. The one who kneels stands tallest. The one who loses his life finds it. The one who surrenders his will discovers it transformed.
The leper’s greatest miracle was not simply clean skin.
It was that he dared to trust the heart of Christ before he experienced the hand of Christ.
Today I pray for that same confidence.
Not merely that God can.
But that God wishes my true good even more than I do myself.
Friday of the Twelfth Week in Ordinary Time
