Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Tuesday of the Nineteenth week in Ordinary Time

Matthew 18:1-5,10,12-14

Listen to the whole reading — MP3

First reading

Ezekiel 2:8-10,3:1-4

But you, son of man, hear what I tell you. Don’t be rebellious like that rebellious house. Open your mouth, and eat that which I give you.” When I looked, behold, a hand was stretched out to me; and, behold, a scroll of a book was in it. He spread it before me. It was written within and without; and lamentations, mourning, and woe were written in it. He said to me, “Son of man, eat what you find. Eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and he caused me to eat the scroll. He said to me, “Son of man, cause your belly to eat, and fill your bowels with this scroll that I give you.” Then I ate it; and it was as sweet as honey in my mouth. He said to me, “Son of man, go to the house of Israel, and speak my words to them.

Responsorial psalm

Psalms 119:14,24,72,103,111,131

Blessed are you, the Lord. Teach me your statutes. Take reproach and contempt away from me, for I have kept your statutes. Their heart is as callous as the fat, but I delight in your law. I have kept my feet from every evil way, that I might observe your word. My soul is continually in my hand, yet I won’t forget your law. Your testimonies are wonderful, therefore my soul keeps them.

Gospel

Matthew 18:1-5,10,12-14

In that hour the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who then is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?” Jesus called a little child to himself, and set him in the middle of them, and said, “Most certainly I tell you, unless you turn, and become as little children, you will in no way enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. Whoever therefore humbles himself as this little child, the same is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven. Whoever receives one such little child in my name receives me, See that you don’t despise one of these little ones, for I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven. “What do you think? If a man has one hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine, go to the mountains, and seek that which has gone astray? If he finds it, most certainly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine which have not gone astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish.

Lectio

Notice what God asks of Ezekiel before He asks him to speak. Eat the scroll. Take these words — lamentation, mourning, woe — into your own body first. Let them become part of you, digested, metabolized, before a single syllable passes your lips to another soul. And the strange miracle is that these bitter words taste sweet as honey going down. There is no shortcut here, no way to carry God's word to others while holding it at arm's length from yourself. What we would give away, we must first swallow whole.

The Gospel deepens this same movement of interiority. The disciples want to know who is greatest, and Jesus answers by placing a child in their midst — not a strategist, not an achiever, but a small one who possesses nothing and depends on everything. To become like a child is to stop performing and start receiving, to let ourselves be small enough to be found. And then that startling turn: the shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine to chase down the one who wandered off. God is not counting heads or measuring greatness. He is looking, with an almost reckless tenderness, for whoever has drifted to the edges.

Both readings ask us to let something in rather than push something out. Ezekiel must let the word become flesh in him. The little ones must let themselves be sought and carried home. We so often want to be the shepherd, the speaker, the greatest — when what God longs for is to feed us, to find us, to hold our face up to His like a child's.

Which of God's words have you been trying to hand to someone else without letting it first be swallowed and digested in your own life?

Where in your life right now are you the one sheep who has quietly wandered to the edge, hoping someone will notice you're gone?

Saint of the day

St. Clare, Foundress (1194-1253)

Ora reads this aloud, every morning, free. Ora