Optional Memorial of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, Religious

Brief Background:

Saint Jane Frances de Chantal (1572–1641) was a French wife and mother who became a widow after her husband died in a hunting accident. After struggling with grief, she eventually forgave the man responsible. With Saint Francis de Sales, she later founded the Order of the Visitation of Holy Mary, dedicating her life to prayer, humility, and charity.

Patron Saint of: Widows, parents separated from their children, and those facing difficult family circumstances.



REFLECTION:

Last week at Mass with our teachers, I reminded them about the ancient city of Nineveh. Nineveh was powerful. They had a strong army, wealth, influence, and walls that seemed secure. From the outside, you could look at Nineveh and think, “Nobody is going to bring this place down.” And yet what eventually weakened Nineveh was not simply what was happening outside its walls. There was corruption and weakness within.

Then we come to today’s reading from Ezekiel, and God gives us that same message, but in an even more powerful—and uncomfortable—way.

Ezekiel has this vision of judgment coming upon Jerusalem. These mysterious figures enter the Temple, and one man dressed in linen takes his place beside the bronze altar.

That detail caught my attention.

The altar! The place of sacrifice. The place of worship. The place where people came to offer something to God. You would think that if judgment were coming upon Jerusalem, God would say, “Start outside. Go find all the bad people out there.”

Instead, God says: “Begin at my sanctuary.” Start at the Temple. Start with the people closest to the altar. And I thought, Maybe this explains why some Catholics like sitting all the way in the back of the church! Maybe they read Ezekiel and thought, “Father, I’m not taking any chances. Judgment starts at the altar—I’ll stay back here!”

But don’t use Ezekiel as your excuse for sitting far away from the altar now!

Because the point isn’t really where we sit. The point is that God begins with His own people. That’s uncomfortable for us because we’re the people who come to church. We pray, receive the Eucharist, serve in ministries, and participate in the life of the Church. It’s easy for us to look outside and say, “Look at what’s happening in society. Look at the culture. Look at young people today.”

Ezekiel turns the mirror around and says: Before you look out there, look in here. And that applies everywhere.

In our families, before asking why everyone else is difficult, maybe I ask, “What am I contributing to the tension?”

In our parish, instead of complaining about what isn’t happening, maybe I ask, “What am I doing to make our parish stronger? Am I building unity, or contributing to gossip and negativity?”

And in our school, whether we are teachers, staff, or administrators, before saying, “They need to change,” perhaps we ask, “What do I need to change? Am I doing what I expect others to do? Am I communicating well? Am I following through? Am I helping build up our community?”

Because sometimes the greatest danger to a family, parish, school, or organization isn’t what attacks it from outside. It’s what slowly grows within: resentment, gossip, negativity, division, pride, and refusing to take responsibility.

And then comes the saddest image in Ezekiel: the glory of the Lord begins to leave the Temple. The Temple is still standing. The altar is still there. The structures are still there. But God’s glory is departing.

That’s the warning for us. We can have a beautiful church, a successful school, wonderful programs, committees, policies, meetings, and calendars filled with activities. But what good are all those things if we lose the presence of God within us?

So here’s something practical for today. Before criticizing, complaining, sending that email, or joining that conversation about somebody else, stop and ask: “What can I do to make this better?”

Maybe I need to apologize. Maybe I need to talk to the person instead of talking about the person. Maybe I need to stop complaining and help. Maybe I need to follow through on something I promised. Or maybe I simply need to pray before I react. And perhaps our prayer before this altar today can be very simple: “Lord, begin with me.”

Begin with my heart. Begin with my attitude. Begin with my words. Begin with the way I treat others.

Because if destruction can begin from within, then renewal can begin from within too. And Ezekiel tells us where to start: Begin at the sanctuary. Begin at the altar. Begin with us.