Monday, August 17, 2026
Monday of the Twentieth week in Ordinary Time
Matthew 19:16-22
Listen to the whole reading — MP3
First reading
Ezekiel 24:15-24
Also the Lord’s word came to me, saying, “Son of man, behold, I will take away from you the desire of your eyes with a stroke: yet you shall neither mourn nor weep, neither shall your tears run down. Sigh, but not aloud. Make no mourning for the dead. Bind your headdress on you, and put your shoes on your feet. Don’t cover your lips, and don’t eat mourner’s bread.” So I spoke to the people in the morning; and at evening my wife died. So I did in the morning as I was commanded. The people asked me, “Won’t you tell us what these things are to us, that you do so?” Then I said to them, “the Lord’s word came to me, saying, ‘Speak to the house of Israel, “Thus says the Lord God: ‘Behold, I will profane my sanctuary, the pride of your power, the desire of your eyes, and that which your soul pities; and your sons and your daughters whom you have left behind will fall by the sword. You will do as I have done. You won’t cover your lips or eat mourner’s bread. Your turbans will be on your heads, and your shoes on your feet. You won’t mourn or weep; but you will pine away in your iniquities, and moan one toward another. Thus Ezekiel will be a sign to you; according to all that he has done, you will do. When this comes, then you will know that I am the Lord God.’”’”
Responsorial psalm
Deuteronomy 32:18-19,20,21
Of the Rock who became your father, you are unmindful, and have forgotten God who gave you birth. The Lord saw and abhorred, because of the provocation of his sons and his daughters. He said, “I will hide my face from them. I will see what their end will be; for they are a very perverse generation, children in whom is no faithfulness. They have moved me to jealousy with that which is not God. They have provoked me to anger with their vanities. I will move them to jealousy with those who are not a people. I will provoke them to anger with a foolish nation.
Gospel
Matthew 19:16-22
Behold, one came to him and said, “Good teacher, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?” He said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but one, that is, God. But if you want to enter into life, keep the commandments.” He said to him, “Which ones?” Jesus said, “‘You shall not murder.’ ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ ‘You shall not steal.’ ‘You shall not offer false testimony.’ ‘Honor your father and your mother.’ And, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” The young man said to him, “All these things I have observed from my youth. What do I still lack?” Jesus said to him, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” But when the young man heard the saying, he went away sad, for he was one who had great possessions.
Lectio
Ezekiel is told that God will take the desire of his eyes—his wife—with a single stroke, and that he must not weep. It is one of the most unbearable passages in all of Scripture. God asks his prophet to give up not only the thing he loves most, but even the ordinary comfort of grieving it, because Ezekiel's silence is itself to become a message to a people who have lost the capacity to feel their own losses rightly. And in the Gospel, another man is asked to give up what he holds dearest—his possessions—and he simply cannot. He goes away sad. Both stories turn on the same terrible hinge: the moment when God's love reaches for the very thing our hands are already clenched around.
What strikes me is that the rich young man had done everything right. He had kept the commandments from his youth; he was not a scoundrel but a genuinely good soul, close enough to Jesus to ask the question that mattered. And still there was one thing he had quietly built his security upon, one thing he could not imagine his life without. Jesus did not condemn him. He looked at him—Mark tells us elsewhere that he loved him—and named the single attachment standing between him and the freedom he was aching for. The tragedy is not that the young man was evil. The tragedy is that he was so nearly free.
We rarely find our lives being asked for the thing we would gladly surrender. Grace tends to ask for the desire of the eyes, the one thing we have decided we cannot live without.
What is the one possession, relationship, or security you would find hardest to release if God asked for it today—and can you name it honestly, or does even naming it frighten you? When have you walked away sad from something you knew was true, telling yourself you'd return to it later—and is that thing still waiting for your answer?
Saint of the day
St. Hyacinth, Dominican Missionary (1185-1257)
Ora reads this aloud, every morning, free. Ora