Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Tuesday 11 August 2026 — Daily Mass Readings

Saint Clare, Virgin

Memorial

Feria Readings

Liturgical Colour: White


First Reading

Ezekiel 2:8–3:4

He gave me the scroll to eat and it was as sweet as honey

I, Ezekiel, heard a voice speaking. It said, ‘You, son of man, listen to the words I say; do not be a rebel like that rebellious set. Open your mouth and eat what I am about to give you.’

I looked. A hand was there, stretching out to me and holding a scroll. He unrolled it in front of me; it was written on back and front; on it was written ‘lamentations, wailings, moanings.’

He said, ‘Son of man, eat what is given to you; eat this scroll, then go and speak to the House of Israel.’

I opened my mouth; he gave me the scroll to eat and said, ‘Son of man, feed and be satisfied by the scroll I am giving you.’

I ate it, and it tasted sweet as honey.

Then he said, ‘Son of man, go to the House of Israel and tell them what I have said.’


Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 118(119):14,24,72,103,111,131

How sweet to my taste is your promise!

I rejoiced to do your will
as though all riches were mine.

Your will is my delight;
your statutes are my counsellors.

How sweet to my taste is your promise!

The law from your mouth means more to me
than silver and gold.

Your promise is sweeter to my taste
than honey in the mouth.

How sweet to my taste is your promise!

Your will is my heritage for ever,
the joy of my heart.

I open my mouth and I sigh
as I yearn for your commands.

How sweet to my taste is your promise!


Gospel Acclamation

Matthew 11:29

Alleluia, alleluia!

Take my yoke upon you;
learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart.

Alleluia!


Gospel

Matthew 18:1–5,10,12–14

Anyone who welcomes a little child in my name welcomes me

The disciples came to Jesus and said, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’

So he called a little child to him and set the child in front of them.

Then he said, ‘I tell you solemnly, unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. And so, the one who makes himself as little as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

‘Anyone who welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.

‘See that you never despise any of these little ones, for I tell you that their angels in heaven are continually in the presence of my Father in heaven.

‘Tell me. Suppose a man has a hundred sheep and one of them strays; will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hillside and go in search of the stray?

‘I tell you solemnly, if he finds it, it gives him more joy than do the ninety-nine that did not stray at all.

‘Similarly, it is never the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.’


Reflection

The readings chosen from the feria fit the Memorial of Saint Clare remarkably well. Ezekiel receives the word of God as food. The psalmist values God’s will more than silver and gold. Jesus teaches that greatness begins by becoming little. These themes meet in the life of a woman who surrendered privilege and possessions so that Christ could become her lasting treasure.

The First Reading begins with an unusual command. Ezekiel is not simply told to read the scroll or remember its contents. He must eat it.

The word of God must enter him before it can be spoken through him. His mission cannot be sustained by borrowed language or information held at a distance. God’s message must become part of his inner life.

This principle remains important for every Christian. We can repeat biblical words without allowing them to change us. We can quote Scripture while resisting its demands, or speak about mercy without becoming merciful.

Ezekiel is called to something deeper. Before his mouth can proclaim, it must receive. Before he speaks to the House of Israel, he must be fed by what God has spoken.

The scroll is covered with “lamentations, wailings, moanings.” Its message is not comfortable. Ezekiel is being sent to a rebellious people, and the truth he must proclaim will expose sin and warn of its consequences.

Yet when Ezekiel eats the scroll, it tastes sweet as honey.

The sweetness does not mean that every word is pleasant. God’s word can disturb us because it reveals what we would rather avoid. It challenges pride, resentment, greed, dishonesty and the ways we reduce other people to their usefulness.

Its sweetness comes from its source. Even when God corrects us, he speaks as the one who desires life. His truth is not given to humiliate us but to free us from what keeps us separated from him.

Scripture therefore cannot be treated merely as a collection of comforting statements. Some passages console us, while others confront us. Both can become forms of grace when they draw us towards conversion.

The Catechism teaches that the Church strongly encourages all the faithful to gain the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ through frequent reading of the Scriptures. Prayer should accompany this reading so that a genuine conversation takes place between God and the reader (CCC 133, 2653).

This is the difference between consuming religious information and feeding upon the word. Information can remain outside us. Prayerful reading allows the word to question us, strengthen us and gradually form the way we live.

The responsorial psalm continues Ezekiel’s experience: “How sweet to my taste is your promise!”

The psalmist does not speak about God’s law as a burden imposed by an arbitrary ruler. He calls it his delight, his counsellor and his heritage. God’s will means more to him than silver and gold.

That comparison exposes the competing measures by which we value our lives. Wealth is measurable. Recognition is visible. Status can be displayed. The inner work of obedience is often hidden.

Yet the psalmist understands that possessions cannot tell him who he is or show him how to live. God’s word can.

To call God’s will a heritage means receiving it as something lasting. Material possessions eventually pass to someone else or disappear. God’s truth remains capable of guiding a life through prosperity, uncertainty, loss and death.

The psalm also says, “I open my mouth and I sigh as I yearn for your commands.” This is more than obedience based on fear. It is desire. The person has discovered that the will of God is not opposed to true freedom. It directs freedom towards what is good.

Saint Clare understood this reordering of value. Born into a wealthy family in Assisi, she was expected to enter a socially advantageous marriage. After hearing Saint Francis preach, she chose a radically different life centred on Christ, prayer, poverty and service.

Her decision was not based upon contempt for creation. Clare did not reject possessions because material things are inherently evil. She recognised that even good things can become obstacles when they claim the heart’s deepest loyalty.

The Catechism explains that Christ proposes the evangelical counsels to every disciple and that some Christians embrace poverty, chastity and obedience through a particular consecrated vocation (CCC 915). These counsels free the heart for a more undivided service of God.

Clare’s poverty was therefore not an achievement designed to prove her spiritual strength. It was a way of dependence. By refusing the security expected for someone of her background, she placed her future in God’s hands.

This does not mean every Christian must surrender all possessions in the same manner. Christian vocations differ. Yet Clare’s witness asks each of us whether the things we possess have begun to possess us.

What are we afraid to lose because we have allowed it to define us? Where have comfort, approval or security become more important than obedience to God?

The Catechism teaches that the call to voluntary poverty is inseparable from the call to follow Christ. Detachment from riches is necessary for entering the kingdom of heaven because the heart cannot be divided between God and wealth (CCC 2544).

The Gospel brings the question of greatness directly before Jesus. The disciples want to know who is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Their question reveals a familiar concern: Who ranks above whom? Who matters most? Who possesses the most authority?

Jesus does not answer by naming the most impressive disciple. He brings a child into their midst.

In the ancient world, children were loved, but they did not possess the status or independence often associated with importance. A child depended upon others and could not advance the disciples’ ambitions.

Jesus says that unless they change and become like little children, they will not enter the kingdom at all.

He is not praising childishness, ignorance or the avoidance of adult responsibility. He is teaching humility and dependence. The kingdom is received as a gift, not achieved as a promotion.

A child must receive food, shelter, protection and instruction. In the same way, disciples cannot give themselves eternal life. They cannot manufacture grace or claim the kingdom as payment for their accomplishments.

The Catechism describes humility as the foundation of prayer because only when we acknowledge that we do not know how to pray as we ought are we ready to receive the gift of prayer freely (CCC 2559).

Humility is truth about our relationship with God. He is the giver; we are recipients. Every ability we possess ultimately rests upon life we did not create and grace we could not earn.

This humility does not diminish human dignity. It frees us from the exhausting need to establish our worth by ranking ourselves against other people.

Jesus then moves from becoming like a child to welcoming a child: “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.”

Humility changes not only how we see ourselves but how we treat those who appear unimportant. When status no longer determines our own worth, we no longer need to measure the worth of others by status.

Jesus gives a serious warning: “See that you never despise any of these little ones.”

To despise someone is not limited to open hatred. We can despise people by ignoring them, dismissing their concerns, speaking over them or treating them as interruptions.

Christ identifies himself with those who possess little influence. To welcome them is to welcome him.

Jesus also speaks of their angels continually standing in the Father’s presence. The Church teaches that from childhood to death, human life is surrounded by the watchful care and intercession of angels (CCC 336). No person is unseen before God, even when the world overlooks them.

The parable of the lost sheep then reveals the heart of the Father. A shepherd leaves ninety-nine sheep to search for one that has strayed. The point is not that the ninety-nine have become worthless. It is that the one who is missing has not ceased to matter.

Human systems often accept a certain amount of loss. If ninety-nine are secure, losing one may appear tolerable. God does not think in that way about human persons.

Each person possesses a value that cannot be replaced by another. The Father does not say that the overall percentage is good enough. He seeks the individual who has wandered.

This does not mean that every person will automatically accept salvation. God respects human freedom. The parable reveals his desire: “It is never the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.”

The Catechism teaches that Christ died for all without exception. There is not, never has been and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer (CCC 605).

This gives Christian mission its patience. We do not abandon people because they have taken too long to return. We do not decide that someone is beyond mercy because of failure, sin or distance from the Church.

We continue to pray, speak truth and keep a path open towards reconciliation. The shepherd’s joy at finding the sheep reveals that restoration, not condemnation, is the purpose of the search.

Saint Clare embodied this smallness before God. She had no public office, political authority or military strength. Much of her life was spent within the enclosure of San Damiano, devoted to prayer with her sisters.

From the world’s perspective, such a life might appear narrow or unproductive. Yet Clare’s witness has continued for centuries because holiness does not depend upon visibility.

Her hidden life was not separation from the needs of the Church. Through prayer, community, sacrifice and steadfast trust, she supported a movement of evangelical renewal that continues through the Poor Clares today.

Clare’s life also challenges the assumption that greatness requires constant activity or public recognition. Some callings are fruitful precisely because they remain hidden.

A person praying faithfully, caring for a family member, welcoming someone lonely or serving without recognition may be living the greatness Jesus describes more fully than someone whose name is widely known.

The readings therefore present three movements.

First, receive the word. Like Ezekiel, allow God’s truth to enter before trying to speak it to others.

Second, treasure the word. Like the psalmist, value God’s will above the wealth and approval that cannot provide lasting direction.

Third, become little. Like the child in the Gospel and Saint Clare in her vocation, receive the kingdom in humility and recognise the dignity of those whom others overlook.

These movements protect us from a distorted form of religion. Without receiving the word, we may speak from ourselves rather than from God. Without treasuring the word, our priorities remain controlled by wealth and status. Without becoming little, even religious service can become a search for importance.

Saint Clare points us towards another way: a life made spacious through simplicity, steady through prayer and fruitful through dependence upon Christ.

Her memorial does not ask us to imitate every detail of her vocation. It asks us to recognise the same invitation within our own circumstances.

What word is God asking us to receive rather than merely repeat? What possession or ambition competes with our trust in him? Which person have we overlooked because they seemed unimportant?

The Father does not despise the little one. He seeks the wandering sheep. He gives his word as food, and he invites us to receive it until its truth becomes visible in the way we live.


One line to carry today:

I will receive God’s word humbly and never treat another person as unimportant.

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