Showing posts with label Justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Justice. Show all posts

Thursday, October 1, 2026

St. Thérèse: Mercy in the Little Way

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face is often pictured with roses, a gentle smile, and her famous "Little Way."

It can be tempting to think of her spirituality as simply sweet.

But there was nothing weak about the mercy of St. Thérèse.

Her Little Way was not an escape from the difficult realities of sin and suffering. It was a way of confronting them with love, prayer, sacrifice, and confidence in God's grace.

One of the most striking examples involved a convicted murderer whom Thérèse had never met.

His name was Henri Pranzini.

And Thérèse prayed for his conversion.

"My First Child"

In 1887, Pranzini was convicted of murdering two women and a child in Paris and was sentenced to death by guillotine.

Thérèse was only fourteen.

When she read about his case, she became deeply concerned—not simply about his earthly punishment, but about the state of his soul. She began praying intensely for his conversion and later referred to him as her "first child."

That is an extraordinary thing to say.

She did not minimize his crimes.

She did not deny the suffering of his victims.

She did not argue against justice.

She wanted something else for him: repentance.

She wanted this murderer to encounter the mercy of Christ before he died.

Mercy Does Not Cancel Justice

This distinction matters.

Thérèse's prayer for Pranzini was not a rejection of justice. She could acknowledge the seriousness of his crimes while still believing that he was not beyond the reach of God's grace.

That is an essential part of True Mercy Has Teeth:

    Forgiveness is not pretending that evil never happened.

Mercy does not  call evil good, eliminate legitimate consequences, or ignore the wounds left by sin.

But neither does it allow us to conclude that a sinner is beyond redemption.

Thérèse believed that even a condemned murderer could turn toward Christ.

So she prayed.

The Sign She Asked For

Thérèse wanted some indication that her prayers had reached Pranzini.

According to her account, he had refused the ministry of the priest who accompanied him to the scaffold. But at the last moment, he seized the crucifix offered to him and kissed the sacred wounds three times.

For Thérèse, this was the sign she had begged God to give her.

She believed that Christ's mercy had reached him.

The murderer had not been beyond hope.

And that experience became deeply important to her understanding of prayer.

The Little Way Has Teeth

Thérèse's Little Way is often reduced to the idea of doing small things.

It is that—but it is much more demanding than it sounds.

A small act of love can require enormous faith.

A prayer may seem insignificant.

A sacrifice may go unnoticed.

An act of patience may receive no recognition.

A prayer for the conversion of someone who has done terrible things may feel almost absurdly small in the face of the evil involved.

Yet Thérèse trusted that God could take what she offered and accomplish what she could not.

She could not stand beside Pranzini.

She could not undo his crimes.

She could not force repentance.

She could pray.

And she could place his soul in the hands of Divine Mercy.

That is the strength of the Little Way.

The Little Way Is Not the Easy Way

The Little Way asks us to love when nobody notices, forgive when we would rather hold a grudge, and make sacrifices without receiving recognition.

It asks us to pray for people who may never know that we prayed for them.

And sometimes that means praying for someone we would rather see punished than redeemed.

This is where Thérèse's example becomes uncomfortable.

    Can we want justice and still pray for conversion?

    Can we acknowledge the seriousness of someone's actions and still hope for their salvation?

    Can we protect ourselves from someone while refusing to hate them?

    Can we entrust judgment to God without pretending the wounds do not exist?

Thérèse's answer was yes.

That is mercy with teeth.

The Rose and the Cross

Thérèse promised to spend her heaven doing good on earth and spoke of sending down a "shower of roses."

But roses grow among thorns.

The Little Way is not a way around the Cross. It is a way of carrying the Cross through ordinary life.

Her prayer for Pranzini was one small act that she trusted God could use for something much larger.

That is how grace works.

We offer what little we have.

God does what we cannot.

Where We Begin

Most of us never encounter a condemned murderer.

But we will encounter people who are difficult to forgive.

Someone who hurt us.

Someone who betrayed us.

Someone whose choices caused real damage.

Someone we would rather see punished than redeemed.

Thérèse teaches us that we can acknowledge the evil, seek justice, protect the vulnerable, and still refuse to surrender a person's soul to despair.

We can pray.

We can forgive.

We can refuse revenge.

We can speak the truth without hatred.

We can entrust the person to God.

And we can trust that no act of love offered to Christ is wasted.

Thérèse did not know what would happen to Pranzini.

She simply prayed.

When she saw what she believed was a sign of his repentance, she rejoiced—not because his crimes no longer mattered, but because God's mercy was greater than his sin.

That is the Little Way.

Small acts of enormous trust.

Love when love is difficult.

Hope when someone seems beyond hope.

Mercy with teeth.

St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face, pray for us. Teach us your Little Way: to love in the small things, to pray for those who seem beyond hope, and to trust that the mercy of Jesus can reach even the hardest heart.

Tuesday, September 15, 2026

Our Lady of Sorrows: Mercy That Stays

There is something almost unsettling about the image of Our Lady of Sorrows.

Mary is not pictured smiling.

She is not standing at a comfortable distance from the suffering of her Son.

She is standing beneath the Cross.

She watches the One she loves suffer and die.

And she stays.

That is where we discover another dimension of what I call "mercy with teeth."

Mercy does not always fix the suffering.

Sometimes mercy means refusing to abandon someone who is suffering.

(Image is the 13th Station in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher - Our Lady of Sorrows.)

The Mother Who Remained

The Gospels tell us that Mary stood near the Cross of Jesus. While many of His disciples had fled, she remained.

Think about what that required.

She could not stop the crucifixion.

She could not take away the nails.

She could not silence the crowd.

She could not prevent her Son from suffering.

But she could be there.

And she was.

Sometimes we are tempted to believe that if we cannot solve someone's problem, there is nothing we can do.

Mary teaches us otherwise.

There are moments when the most merciful thing we can do is simply stay.

To sit beside someone who is grieving.

To accompany someone who is dying.

To listen to someone who has been wounded.

To stand beside someone who has been abandoned.

To remain when there are no words that can make things better.

That is mercy.

And it has teeth because it requires courage.

Mercy Is Not the Absence of Suffering

We sometimes imagine mercy as God's way of making suffering disappear.

But Mary's experience tells us something different.

She was the mother of the Messiah.

She was full of grace.

And yet she suffered.

Her holiness did not protect her from the pain of this world.

Instead, her holiness gave her the strength to enter into that pain with Christ.

The Seven Sorrows of Mary remind us that mercy does not always mean removing the Cross.

Sometimes mercy means helping another person carry it.

That is why the Christian response to suffering cannot simply be, "How do I make this go away?"

Sometimes the better question is:

"How can I help this person carry it?"

The Sword That Pierced Her Heart

Simeon had warned Mary early in Jesus' life:

"And you yourself a sword will pierce."

That prophecy was fulfilled beneath the Cross.

Mary's heart was pierced by the suffering of her Son.

And yet she did not turn away.

This is a profound image of mercy.

To love another person is to make ourselves vulnerable to their suffering.

If we truly love, their wounds begin to matter to us.

Their grief affects us.

Their pain costs us something.

Mercy with teeth is willing to pay that price.

It refuses the easier path of indifference.

The Courage to Stay

There are many ways we can abandon someone without physically walking away.

We can avoid the uncomfortable conversation.

We can stop answering the phone.

We can decide that someone's problems are simply too complicated.

We can say, "They made their own choices."

Sometimes those things may be necessary. Mercy does not require us to remain in situations that are dangerous or abusive.

But even when we must establish boundaries, we can refuse to surrender our compassion.

Mary shows us a different kind of strength.

She stayed close to Christ without being able to change His circumstances.

She loved Him without being able to rescue Him from the Cross.

She suffered with Him without taking His place.

Her presence was itself an act of love.

Mercy Does Not Enable

This is important when we speak about mercy with teeth.

Mary's presence at the Cross was not passive approval of evil.

She did not call the crucifixion good.

She did not pretend that injustice was justice.

She did not tell Jesus that His suffering didn't matter.

She simply refused to let suffering have the final word.

That distinction is important in our own relationships.

Mercy does not mean remaining in an abusive situation.

It does not mean protecting someone from the consequences of their actions.

It does not mean pretending that evil is acceptable.

It means that even when we must say "no," establish boundaries, seek justice, or separate ourselves from someone who causes harm, we can still refuse to become consumed by hatred.

Mercy can have boundaries.

Mercy can demand justice.

Mercy can speak hard truths.

And mercy can still remain mercy.

From the Cross to the Resurrection

The Blessed Virgin Mary's story did not end at Calvary.

The woman who stood beneath the Cross would also experience the joy of the Resurrection.

This is the hope at the heart of Christian mercy.

We do not enter into another person's suffering because we believe suffering is the end.

We enter because we know Christ has conquered death.

The Cross is real.

But so is the empty tomb.

The sorrow is real.

But so is the hope.

The wound is real.

But so is the possibility of healing.

Our Lady Teaches Us Mercy

Our Lady of Sorrows teaches us that mercy sometimes looks less like fixing and more like accompanying.

It looks like staying.

It looks like listening.

It looks like praying.

It looks like carrying another person's suffering to Christ.

It looks like refusing to abandon someone simply because we cannot solve their problem.

And sometimes it looks like having the courage to say the difficult thing, establish the necessary boundary, or pursue justice—while still refusing to surrender the person to hatred.

That is mercy with teeth.

It is tender enough to weep.

Strong enough to stay.

Courageous enough to confront evil.

And faithful enough to stand beneath the Cross until the dawn of resurrection.

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.

Teach us to remain with those who suffer.

Teach us to love without enabling evil.

Teach us to seek justice without vengeance.

Teach us to forgive without pretending that wounds do not matter.

And when the Cross becomes too heavy for us to carry alone, teach us to stand beside your Son—and to invite others to stand there with us.

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.

Sunday, September 20, 2020

25th Sunday 2020 - Just



#Jesus tells the parable of the landowner who pays his workers the same wage, not because he is #Fair, but because he is #Just. How do we respond to the Lord’s #Justice. Readings are found at https://ift.tt/2ZQAmn1 Give feedback at https://goo.gl/forms/iG1Tvk4cHTGhdOWz2 #Catholic #homily #Scripture
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