First Tuesday in Ordinary Time
13 January 2026
When God Begins to Set Us Free
As we step into Ordinary Time this week,
we’re meant to carry the grace of Christmas with us.
We learned through the Christmas season that
God became one of us
so that we might share in His own divine life
and that should change everything about how we live now.
We can walk with Christ after the experiences of a blessed season now
through the ordinary struggles, decisions, and hopes
that shape who we become.
Today’s readings show us what it looks like when God’s presence is not only recognized,
but allowed to do something new within us.
In the Gospel,
Jesus enters the synagogue in Capernaum and begins to teach. But what strikes the people is not just what He says
—it is how He says it.
Mark tells us they were astonished
because He taught with authority,
not like the scribes.
There is a weight, a clarity, a truth, an authority in His voice
that cuts through everything else.
And then that authority becomes visible.
A man possessed by an unclean spirit cries out,
trying to resist what Jesus represents.
The spirit recognizes Him immediately:
“I know who you are
—the Holy One of God.”
Even the forces of darkness can tell who is standing before them. But recognition alone is not enough.
The spirit does not worship;
it resists.
Jesus speaks a single command,
and the spirit is driven out.
This is what happens when God’s presence enters a life.
It does not simply inform.
It confronts.
It unsettles what does not belong.
It brings freedom,
but not without first revealing what binds us.
The same pattern unfolds in the first reading.
Hannah comes to the Temple carrying years of pain.
Her prayer is not elegant.
It is not loud.
It is simply desperate.
She stands before the Lord with a heart that has nowhere else to go.
And yet, she is misunderstood.
Even the priest Eli mistakes her grief for drunkenness.
But God is not confused.
Hannah entrusts her deepest longing to the Lord,
and something changes
—not immediately in her circumstances,
but in her spirit.
Scripture tells us that she goes away no longer downcast.
Even before the answer comes,
she has placed her hope in God.
She can rest there.
And in time, God responds.
Samuel is born
—not just as a child,
but as a prophet who will shape the future of Israel.
Both readings show us the same truth:
when God is truly encountered,
something begins to move.
A spirit is driven out.
A heart is lifted up.
A future is opened.
The Collect we prayed at the beginning of Mass asks God for exactly this:
that we may see what must be done
and gain the strength to do it.
Notice how honest that prayer is.
We do not always lack knowledge.
Often we see what needs to change
—where we need to grow, forgive, let go, or begin again.
What we lack is not awareness, but courage.
That is why the presence of Christ matters so much.
In the synagogue,
Jesus does not simply teach people what is right.
He has the power to make it possible.
In Hannah’s life,
God does not simply hear her prayer.
He gives her a future.
God’s grace does not leave us stuck in what we recognize.
It gives us the strength to act.
And this season is where this happens.
Not in moments of spectacle, but in daily choices.
In the quiet decision to trust instead of despair.
In the hard decision to let God’s truth confront what is false within us.
In the steady work of becoming more free.
Today’s readings remind us that faith is not passive.
When Christ comes close,
He speaks with authority.
He heals. He delivers. He calls us forward.
And if we allow Him,
He will give us both the vision to see what must be done
and the grace to begin doing it.
That is how real growth begins.