The Memorial of Saint Faustina Kowalska
I marvel that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ to a different "good news ", But there isn't another "good news."Only there are some who trouble you and want to pervert the Good News of Christ. But even though we, or an angel from heaven, should preach to you any "good news "other than that which we preached to you, let him be cursed. As we have said before, so I now say again: if any man preaches to you any "good news "other than that which you received, let him be cursed.
For am I now seeking the favor of men, or of God? Or am I striving to please men? For if I were still pleasing men, I wouldn't be a servant of Christ.
But I make known to you, brothers, concerning the Good News which was preached by me, that it is not according to man. For I didn't receive it from man, nor was I taught it, but it came to me through revelation of Jesus Christ.
Praise the Lord! I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, In the council of the upright, and in the congregation. The Lord's works are great, Pondered by all those who delight in them.
The works of his hands are truth and justice. All his precepts are sure. They are established forever and ever. They are done in truth and uprightness.
He has sent redemption to his people. He has ordained his covenant forever. His name is holy and awesome!
The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. All those who do his work have a good understanding. His praise endures forever!
Behold, a certain lawyer stood up and tested him, saying, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"
He said to him, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?"
He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself."
He said to him, "You have answered correctly. Do this, and you will live."
But he, desiring to justify himself, asked Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?"
Jesus answered, "A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. By chance a certain priest was going down that way. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side. In the same way a Levite also, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he traveled, came where he was. When he saw him, he was moved with compassion, Came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. He set him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, gave them to the host, and said to him, 'Take care of him. Whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay you when I return.' Now which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbor to him who fell among the robbers?"
He said, "He who showed mercy on him."
Then Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise."
Saint Faustina Kowalska, the Polish mystic who died in 1938, gave us the Divine Mercy devotion — a reminder that God's mercy is not a theological abstraction but a living, urgent reality poured out for every human being. That's a fitting lens for what these readings are asking of us today.
Paul is almost breathless in Galatians. Notice how he doesn't soften the edges here — he's not writing a diplomatic memo. He's watching people he loves drift away from something true toward something that merely sounds true. The Good News he received wasn't polished in a committee room. It came through encounter, through revelation. And that matters, because it means the Gospel isn't ours to edit for comfort.
Then comes the lawyer in Luke, and there's something achingly familiar in his question: "Who is my neighbor?" He's not asking out of genuine curiosity. He's looking for a boundary — a fence around his obligation. We do this constantly. We want mercy to be manageable, charity to have a reasonable radius.
But Jesus doesn't give him a definition. He gives him a story. And the hero of the story is the person no respectable Jewish listener would have expected — a Samaritan, someone from a group considered religiously compromised, ethnically suspect. The one who stops is the one nobody thought would.
What emerges from this is a quiet challenge: mercy doesn't wait for the right credentials. Saint Faustina understood this. She was an uneducated nun whose visions were initially dismissed — and yet through her, a message of radical divine compassion reached millions.
The practical invitation here is simple, even if it isn't easy: look at who we've been passing by.
Who in your life has become invisible to you through familiarity or discomfort? Where have you been drawing the fence around your obligation to show up? And what would it look like today — not someday, but today — to cross to the other side of the road?