Overview:

The Memorial of St. Pius X, Pope

A Reflection for the Memorial of St. Pius X, Pope

Here I am, Lord; I come to do your will.

Find today’s readings here.

I find today’s readings to be some of the most difficult to stomach out of our entire cycle of readings. In the first reading, Jephthah promises God that, if God helps him win a battle, on his return he will “offer” the first person who comes to greet him “as a burnt offering.” That is, he will burn them to death as a way to thank God. Jephthah wins the battle, and when he returns, his own daughter runs out to meet him, thrilled to see him. He gives her two months to make peace with her fate, then kills her, all to appease a God who, the responsorial psalm reminds us, takes no delight in burnt offerings.

It is thus tempting to ignore the first reading in favor of the Gospel, which is no more consoling: This is the parable in which a king invites guests to a wedding feast he is throwing, but they refuse. He invites them again, and when they say no, he has them killed. Then, in a seemingly gracious gesture, he invites people from the street, good and bad, to the feast. But when one man shows up without a wedding garment, the king has him tied up and thrown “into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.”

The immediate parallel between the two readings—two people caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, killed or vaguely cast out into the darkness by others for reasons that baffle us—present a disturbing image, particularly if we see God as the father/king figure who is doing the killing or casting out.

But let’s take a step back. What could be the reason for telling these stories?

It seems clear to me—though I’m no Scripture scholar—that the story of Jephthah is a cautionary tale. The responsorial psalm underlines that: It’s saying, beware of doing things you think are God’s will that actually aren’t. Surely we can all think of examples when people have used religion to justify actions that seem completely out of line with what God wants. Discern, the first reading tells us, or risk tragedy.

So, if the first reading and psalm are emphasizing discernment of God’s will, what does the Gospel mean in that context? Jesus’ “thesis statement” at the end of the parable is that “Many are invited, but few are chosen”—again, a difficult line to stomach for those of us who believe everyone has a unique part to play in implementing God’s will on earth, or that salvation is available to all.

I think part of the difficulty in interpreting this reading comes from the fact that we don’t know why the man isn’t wearing a wedding garment. Presumably he had time to get ready, if the other guests invited from the street came in wedding clothes. But his punishment reads very differently if he chose not to dress up versus if he, for example, didn’t have a wedding garment because he was destitute.

We know from the Gospels, though, how God feels about the poor. He wouldn’t punish someone for their poverty; he would give them the kingdom of heaven. So, we can reasonably assume this man had appropriate clothes and chose not to wear them. I can understand why someone in his situation would make that choice—I wouldn’t be happy about knowing I was on the B-list for someone’s wedding either.

Yet the lesson the parable arrives at is that the man should have dressed for a wedding. So, what lesson can we take from this about discernment? Perhaps this: Even if we feel we’re not God’s top choice—that we’ve been passed over in favor of others—we still owe it to God, and to ourselves, to show up when our invitation does come, and to use our discernment to do our very best.

Colleen Dulle is the Vatican Correspondent at America and co-hosts the "Inside the Vatican" podcast. She is the author of Struck Down, Not Destroyed: Keeping the Faith as a Vatican Reporter (Image, 2025).