Wednesday of the first week in Ordinary Time

Dear sisters in Christ, today’s readings help us understand something very simple and very demanding: learning to recognise God’s voice, and then letting that voice shape how we treat the people closest to us.

In the first reading from the First Book of Samuel we meet a young boy lying half asleep in the Temple. It is night. The lamps are low. Samuel hears his name called in the night. In Hebrew it is “Shmuel”, a name that means “God has heard”. The boy who is heard by God must now learn how to hear God in return. Was it Eli? Was it a dream? Was it only the wind moving through the pillars? Samuel does not know. What matters is that he gets up. He goes to someone wiser. He asks for help.

This tells us something important about how God usually calls. God does not force himself on us. He is patient. His voice is often quiet and not always clear at first. Many of us know this experience. We feel a gentle pull inside, a thought that returns again and again, a concern for someone, a sense that we need to change something. And we ask ourselves, is this God speaking, or just my own idea?

The story of Samuel reminds us that prayer and wise guidance matter. Samuel needed Eli to help him understand what was happening. In the same way, those of us in religious life need regular, honest conversation with a spiritual director. God often speaks through another person who knows us and wants our good. God’s call is not strange or chaotic. It fits the person he is calling. God calls Samuel to be a prophet because Samuel already has the heart of one: open, truthful, and willing to listen.

The psalm shows what happens once that listening begins. Here I am, Lord, I come to do your will. God does not ask for impressive acts. God asks for a listening heart and a life that responds. When God’s word settles inside us, it changes how we live and how we speak. Faith becomes something others can rely on.

The Gospel from Mark brings this down to earth. Jesus is in Capernaum, a small fishing village. He is not in a palace or a great city. He is in a home. Simon’s mother-in-law is sick, and people are worried about her. They ask Jesus. He responds. This is worth noticing. Jesus cares about the needs of family and friends. He listens when people pray for those they love.

Then the Gospel widens out. By evening, many come to him. Jesus heals and restores. He brings people back into life. Most of us will never work miracles, but the Gospel quietly reminds us that we still have power to heal or to harm. A harsh word, a cold look, silence when someone needs reassurance can wound deeply. A greeting, a smile, a touch, patience can bring peace. In our homes, communities, and workplaces in Zimbabwe today, these small actions matter. They shape the spirit of a place.

But the key moment comes early in the morning. Jesus goes away to pray. This is not an escape. It is the source. Everything Jesus does flows from his closeness to the Father. Without that prayer, his work would lose its direction. When the disciples want him to stay, Jesus says no. He has listened. He knows where he must go next.

This speaks to us strongly. Many people are tired, not because they care too much, but because they act without stopping to listen. Ignatian prayer helps us here. Each day we ask: where was God speaking to me? Where did I respond, and where did I resist? Like Samuel, we learn over time. Like Jesus, we return to prayer so that our actions remain rooted in God, not in pressure or fear.

In this Eucharist, Christ again takes us by the hand. He heals what is tired or restless in us. He feeds us with his own life. Then he sends us back into ordinary places, to live differently.

So as we pray this morning, let us consider these questions.

• What is God quietly saying to me, and who can help me listen more clearly?
• In my daily life, am I healing or hurting those closest to me by my words and actions?
• After receiving Christ today, where is he asking me to go, or what is he asking me to change?