Wednesday of Week 19 in Ordinary Time
Liturgical Colour: Green
First Reading
Ezekiel 9:1–7; 10:18–22
The cross marks the foreheads of all who are pure
As I, Ezekiel, listened, God shouted, ‘Come here, you scourges of the city, and bring your weapons of destruction.’
Immediately six men advanced from the upper north gate, each holding a deadly weapon. In the middle of them was a man in white, with a scribe’s ink horn in his belt.
They came in and halted in front of the bronze altar.
The glory of the God of Israel rose off the cherubs where it had been and went up to the threshold of the Temple.
He called the man in white with a scribe’s ink horn in his belt and said, ‘Go all through the city, all through Jerusalem, and mark a cross on the foreheads of all who deplore and disapprove of all the filth practised in it.’
I heard him say to the others, ‘Follow him through the city, and strike. Show neither pity nor mercy; old men, young men, virgins, children, women, kill and exterminate them all. But do not touch anyone with a cross on his forehead. Begin at my sanctuary.’
So they began with the old men in front of the Temple.
He said to them, ‘Defile the Temple; fill the courts with corpses, and go.’
They went out and hacked their way through the city.
The glory of the Lord came out from the Temple threshold and paused over the cherubs.
The cherubs spread their wings and rose from the ground to leave, and as I watched the wheels rose with them.
They paused at the entrance to the east gate of the Temple of the Lord, and the glory of the God of Israel hovered over them.
This was the creature that I had seen supporting the God of Israel beside the river Chebar, and I was now certain that these were cherubs.
Each had four faces and four wings and what seemed to be human hands under their wings.
Their faces were just as I had seen them beside the river Chebar.
Each moved straight forward.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 112(113):1–6
The glory of the Lord is higher than the skies.
or
Alleluia.
Praise, O servants of the Lord,
praise the name of the Lord!
May the name of the Lord be blessed
both now and for evermore!
The glory of the Lord is higher than the skies.
or
Alleluia.
From the rising of the sun to its setting
praised be the name of the Lord!
High above all nations is the Lord,
above the heavens his glory.
The glory of the Lord is higher than the skies.
or
Alleluia.
Who is like the Lord, our God,
who has risen on high to his throne
yet stoops from the heights to look down,
to look down upon heaven and earth?
The glory of the Lord is higher than the skies.
or
Alleluia.
Gospel Acclamation
2 Corinthians 5:19
Alleluia, alleluia!
God was in Christ, to reconcile the world to himself;
and the Good News of reconciliation he has entrusted to us.
Alleluia!
Gospel
Matthew 18:15–20
If your brother listens to you, you have won back your brother
Jesus said to his disciples:
‘If your brother does something wrong, go and have it out with him alone, between your two selves. If he listens to you, you have won back your brother.
‘If he does not listen, take one or two others along with you: the evidence of two or three witnesses is required to sustain any charge.
‘But if he refuses to listen to these, report it to the community; and if he refuses to listen to the community, treat him like a pagan or a tax collector.
‘I tell you solemnly, whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.
‘I tell you solemnly once again, if two of you on earth agree to ask anything at all, it will be granted to you by my Father in heaven.
‘For where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them.’
Reflection
Today’s First Reading is among the most disturbing passages we encounter at Mass. Ezekiel sees a vision of judgement falling upon Jerusalem, with violent language extending across every part of society. We should not soften the difficulty of the passage or pretend that its imagery is easy to hear.
We must also avoid reading it as permission for religious violence. Ezekiel is recording a prophetic vision within the particular language, history and crisis of ancient Israel. It is not an instruction for Christians to punish those whom they judge to be sinful.
The vision expresses the seriousness of Jerusalem’s corruption and the catastrophe approaching the city. Ezekiel speaks from the world of exile, where the destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple raised painful questions. Had God abandoned his people? Had Babylon proved stronger than the Lord? Why had the sacred city been allowed to fall?
The prophet’s answer is severe. Jerusalem’s destruction is not evidence that God is powerless. The city has filled itself with injustice and desecration, and judgement begins at the sanctuary itself.
This is a warning against false religious security. The people possess the Temple, its rituals and its history, but these sacred privileges cannot protect a society that persists in corruption.
The most sobering movement in the passage is not only the destruction. It is the departure of God’s glory from the Temple.
The glory rises from above the cherubs, moves towards the threshold and finally pauses over the eastern gate. God’s departure unfolds gradually, almost reluctantly. The vision suggests that his presence cannot be treated as something Jerusalem possesses regardless of how its people live.
Religious identity does not excuse wrongdoing. A sacred building cannot replace conversion. Public worship cannot compensate for injustice deliberately practised outside it.
This principle also speaks to the Church today. We cannot appeal to our Catholic identity while ignoring conduct contrary to the Gospel. Familiar prayers, religious images and participation in worship cannot become covers beneath which resentment, exploitation or dishonesty are protected.
God’s holiness judges first those who claim to belong to him because they have been given greater light. The sanctuary is where judgement begins.
Yet within Ezekiel’s vision, a man dressed in white is sent through the city to place a mark upon those who grieve over its corruption. They have not become indifferent. They refuse to call evil good simply because it has become common.
The mark described by Ezekiel is associated with the ancient Hebrew letter taw. In its older written form, it resembled a cross-shaped sign. Christian tradition has naturally seen within it an image anticipating the sign of the cross.
We should not force the passage into a direct prediction. Within Ezekiel’s vision, the mark identifies people who remain faithful amid corruption. Read through the light of Christ, it can remind Christians that belonging to God must be visible through repentance and resistance to evil.
The cross placed upon a Christian is not a magical shield against every earthly hardship. It is a sign of belonging to Christ. It declares that our lives have been claimed by the one who overcame sin and death through self-giving love.
The Catechism explains that anointing with sacred chrism in Confirmation includes a marking or sealing. This seal signifies that Christians belong entirely to Christ and have been promised his protection in the final trial (CCC 1295–1296).
Such a seal calls for faithfulness. We cannot bear the name of Christ while deliberately approving what contradicts him. The mark of belonging must reach the choices of daily life.
Ezekiel describes the faithful as people who “deplore and disapprove” of the evil practised in Jerusalem. Their grief matters because indifference can become a form of cooperation.
We may not directly commit a wrong, yet we can gradually become comfortable with it. Repeated exposure dulls the conscience. What once disturbed us begins to appear ordinary, unavoidable or even acceptable.
Christian faith asks us to retain the capacity to grieve over what damages human dignity. This grief is not self-righteous disgust directed at other people. It is sorrow that desires conversion, healing and justice.
The person who grieves over sin must also examine his or her own heart. It is easier to recognise corruption in a city, institution or neighbour than in ourselves.
Ezekiel’s vision begins at the sanctuary because reform must begin among those closest to worship. Likewise, renewal begins when we stop treating repentance as something other people need.
The psalm shifts our attention from Jerusalem’s collapse towards the majesty of God: “The glory of the Lord is higher than the skies.”
God cannot be contained within the Temple. His glory is above every nation and above the heavens themselves. The departure of his glory from Jerusalem does not mean his disappearance. God remains sovereign even when a sacred institution is judged.
The psalm holds transcendence and nearness together. God is exalted upon his throne, yet he “stoops from the heights to look down” upon heaven and earth.
The Lord’s greatness does not make him distant. He is high above creation, yet attentive to it. The God who judges corruption is also the God who bends towards human need.
This movement prepares us for the Gospel. In Jesus Christ, God does more than look down from heaven. He enters human life and entrusts his disciples with the work of reconciliation.
The Gospel Acclamation gives us the key: “God was in Christ, to reconcile the world to himself; and the Good News of reconciliation he has entrusted to us.”
This changes the atmosphere in which Christian correction must occur. We do not confront wrongdoing because we enjoy exposing it. We do so because Christ has entrusted us with reconciliation.
In the Gospel, Jesus offers a careful process for responding when another member of the community does wrong.
The first step is private: “Go and have it out with him alone, between your two selves.”
This protects the person’s dignity. Jesus does not begin with public accusation, gossip or recruiting supporters. He begins with a direct conversation involving the smallest number of people necessary.
Many conflicts become larger because this first step is avoided. We speak to everyone except the person concerned. We rehearse the offence with friends, build a case and allow resentment to harden before any honest conversation occurs.
Jesus asks for something more difficult: speak directly, privately and truthfully.
The purpose is clearly stated: “If he listens to you, you have won back your brother.”
Winning does not mean proving that we were right. The person is what Christ wants us to win back. Reconciliation, not victory, is the aim.
This requires a particular spirit. If we secretly desire to embarrass, punish or dominate the other person, we are not yet following the heart of the Gospel process.
Fraternal correction is an act of charity only when it seeks the good of the other person and the healing of the relationship. Truth spoken without love can become cruelty. Love that refuses to speak truth can become avoidance.
The Catechism teaches that the fruits of charity include joy, peace and mercy. Charity requires doing good and includes fraternal correction offered for another person’s genuine benefit (CCC 1829).
A private conversation may not succeed. Jesus therefore allows one or two others to become involved. Their presence protects both parties. They can confirm what has happened, prevent exaggeration and help guide the conversation towards truth.
Only after these steps fail is the matter brought to the community. The widening process is gradual because the goal remains restoration while recognising that serious wrongdoing can affect more than two individuals.
Jesus does not require endless tolerance of harmful behaviour. Reconciliation cannot be built upon denial. Communities need truth, boundaries and accountability.
His instruction to treat the unrepentant person “like a pagan or a tax collector” recognises that communion has been damaged. The person’s own refusal has placed him outside the shared life of the community.
Even this need not mean hatred or permanent abandonment. Jesus himself sought pagans and tax collectors. The relationship changes, boundaries may be necessary and the truth must be acknowledged, but hope for conversion remains.
There are also situations where private confrontation would be unsafe or inappropriate, especially where abuse, violence, coercion or serious criminal conduct is involved. Jesus’ teaching should never be used to silence victims or force them into dangerous private encounters.
In such cases, seeking assistance from appropriate authorities, safeguarding leaders or trusted support people is not a failure of charity. Protecting the vulnerable and preventing further harm are moral responsibilities.
The Gospel’s ordinary pattern still gives us essential principles: begin without unnecessary public exposure, establish facts carefully, involve others proportionately and keep restoration as the goal.
Jesus then gives the Church authority to bind and loose. This language concerns real responsibility within the community, including teaching, discipline, forgiveness and reconciliation.
The Catechism connects Christ’s words about binding and loosing with the authority entrusted to the apostles and their successors. This authority includes the forgiveness of sins and the work of reconciliation within the Church (CCC 553, 1444).
Church authority is therefore not given for domination. It is ordered towards communion, truth and salvation.
Jesus concludes with a promise: “Where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them.”
This verse is sometimes used simply to reassure small prayer gatherings, and it certainly offers that encouragement. Within its context, however, it follows teaching about conflict, correction and reconciliation.
Christ promises to be present when his disciples gather in his name to seek truth and restore communion. Reconciliation is not merely a negotiation between competing interests. Jesus stands among those who sincerely submit themselves to him.
Meeting “in my name” means more than mentioning Jesus. It means gathering under his authority and seeking his will. We cannot use his name to bless pride, manipulation or revenge.
When Christians disagree, the central question cannot only be, “How do I protect my position?” We must also ask, “What would faithfulness to Christ require from me?”
Sometimes it requires speaking. Sometimes it requires listening. Sometimes it requires admitting that our own account is incomplete. Sometimes it requires forgiveness, and sometimes it requires firm boundaries.
The promise of Christ’s presence gives courage for these difficult conversations. We do not enter them alone.
The First Reading and Gospel are connected by the seriousness of sin, but they show different aspects of revelation.
Ezekiel’s vision demonstrates that corruption has consequences and that religious appearances cannot shelter deliberate evil. The Gospel reveals how Christ forms a community that responds to wrongdoing through truth ordered towards reconciliation.
The cross-shaped mark in Ezekiel identifies those who refuse complicity. The cross of Christ reveals how God himself confronts sin: not by remaining distant, but by bearing its cost and offering mercy.
At the cross, justice and mercy meet. Sin is not dismissed as harmless, yet the sinner is not simply abandoned. Christ enters the consequences of human evil to open a path towards forgiveness and new life.
The Church must therefore resist two opposite errors.
The first is indifference, which avoids correction and allows wrongdoing to continue because confrontation feels uncomfortable.
The second is condemnation, which exposes and punishes without sincerely desiring restoration.
Jesus gives us another way: truthful love.
Truthful love refuses gossip because it respects dignity. It refuses silence when silence allows harm. It welcomes accountability because communion must be real rather than superficial.
This Gospel also invites us to consider how we respond when someone corrects us. We often imagine ourselves as the person approaching the wrongdoer, but we may be the one who needs to listen.
Receiving correction can feel threatening. Our first instinct may be to defend, explain or counter-accuse. Yet humility asks whether God may be using another person to reveal something we have not been willing to see.
Not every criticism is accurate or charitable. Discernment is necessary. But dismissing all correction prevents growth.
The daily conversion to which Christians are called includes gestures of reconciliation, concern for the poor, acceptance of suffering, examination of conscience and the revision of one’s life (CCC 1435).
A healthy Christian community is not one without disagreement or failure. It is one that knows how to tell the truth, repent, forgive and rebuild trust.
Today’s readings ask us to examine our relationship with wrongdoing.
Have we become comfortable with something that should grieve us? Do we use religious appearances to avoid conversion? When someone harms us, do we speak directly or spread the conflict? When corrected, do we listen?
The glory of God cannot be manipulated, but Christ promises his presence to those who gather honestly in his name.
That presence changes confrontation into a possible place of grace. The conversation may still be difficult, but its purpose is no longer retaliation. It becomes part of God’s work of reconciling the world to himself.
One line to carry today:
I will address wrongdoing with truth, humility and the sincere desire to restore relationship.
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