Overview:

Wednesday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time

A Reflection for Wednesday of the Twenty-fifth Week in Ordinary Time

At the time of the evening sacrifice, I, Ezra, rose in my wretchedness,
and with cloak and mantle torn I fell on my knees,
stretching out my hands to the LORD, my God. (Ezra 9:5)

Find today’s readings here.

With the passing of Monday’s equinox, autumn has arrived, and my commute home from work is getting dimmer. Each September evening has brought less and less of the setting sun’s light to illuminate my Brooklyn-bound subway car when it emerges from below ground to cross the Manhattan Bridge. 

I have been dragging my feet because of this, walking through the station tunnels to transfer train lines and tripping over cracked pavement on my walk home with a dour look on my face. And as much as I am guilty of indulging in this frowning, I believe it is wasteful to oversimplify my tiny miseries by attributing them to the changing seasons alone.

There is a real sense of desolation that can trickle down through our days, at any time of year, turning any inconvenience into what feels like a catastrophe. Similarly, there are very real consolations we lose sight of when we dramatize our daily frustrations.

The Book of Ezra today provides a path forward for disgruntled straphangers like myself: “I, Ezra, rose in my wretchedness, and with cloak and mantle torn I fell on my knees, stretching out my hands to the LORD, my God.” 

Weathered by a history of exile, Ezra stretches towards God as he is, with cloak and mantle lying in rags. Who am I to carry on complaining, turning to no one but myself in my dissatisfaction? 

In darkness Ezra sought and found consolation for his flock, recognizing, “For slaves we are, but in our servitude our God has not abandoned us.” Who am I to carry on as if the world is ending?

God is there on the half-lit trains I ride home, and I am selling God’s love short when I act like it is an injustice that it does not feel like summer any more.

Like the twelve sent out in today’s Gospel, we are to trust in the sustenance found in the work we are charged with and in our capacities to find goodness all around. Jesus allowed his deputized healing apostles “neither walking stick, nor sack, nor food, nor money, and let no one take a second tunic.” I have pretty much all of those things, except for a tunic.

So with gratitude and an eye for grace, I am preparing myself for fall, winter and Advent. As Ezra, or perhaps like a train clanking over a bridge, I too will have to rise in my own small wretchedness.

Julian Navarro is America Media’s advancement manager.