Fifth Wednesday in Ordinary Time
Our Lady of Lourdes
11 February 2026
From Admiration to Conversion — Letting God Heal the Heart
Today’s readings continue a thread the Church has been weaving all week: the difference between being impressed by God and being transformed by God—between outward response and inward conversion.
The first reading introduces us to the Queen of Sheba. She travels a great distance to see Solomon for herself. She has heard reports of his wisdom, his wealth, his success, and when she finally encounters him, she is overwhelmed. She praises God. She offers gifts. She admires what she sees.
And yet, the reading leaves us with a quiet question.
The Queen recognizes wisdom. She honors it. She even blesses the God who gave it. But the text does not suggest that her life is changed, that she enters into covenant, or that her heart is converted. She leaves impressed, not transformed.
That distinction matters.
Admiration is easy. Conversion is costly.
The Gospel presses this point much further. Jesus speaks plainly to the crowd: it is not what goes into a person that defiles, but what comes out from within. He names the real problem—not food laws, not rituals, not appearances—but the heart. From the heart come envy, pride, deceit, violence, and selfishness. These are not failures of technique. They are failures of interior alignment.
Jesus is not rejecting religious practice. He is exposing the danger of substituting practice for conversion.
That danger has always been present. Israel was given the Law not as an end in itself, but as a guide toward love of God and neighbor. When the Law became a shield to protect people from change, it lost its purpose. What was meant to heal began to harden.
This is where today’s memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes deepens the message.
When Mary appeared to Bernadette in Lourdes, she did not come to the powerful, the educated, or the influential. She came to a poor, sickly girl who had nothing impressive to offer. Lourdes became known not because of spectacle, but because of healing—healing that flows from humility, repentance, prayer, and trust.
The Church has always been clear: the miracles at Lourdes are not magic, and they are not automatic. They are signs. Signs that God desires to heal not only bodies, but hearts. Signs that grace flows where there is openness, not prestige. Signs that conversion often begins in places the world overlooks.
Lourdes teaches us the same lesson Jesus teaches in the Gospel: healing begins within.
The Queen of Sheba saw greatness from the outside. Bernadette encountered mercy from the inside.
One admired.
The other surrendered.
And that leaves us with an uncomfortable but necessary question: What do we really want from God?
Do we want inspiration without change?
Comfort without conversion?
Religion that reassures us,
but never disrupts or challenges us;
that always agrees with us and our opinion or political party?
Or do we want the deeper healing Christ offers—the kind that reaches into the heart and rearranges our desires?
Jesus makes it clear: the real work of faith is interior. It is not about managing appearances, but about allowing God to touch what is hidden. That kind of healing takes time. It takes honesty. It takes humility. But it leads to freedom.
The Queen of Sheba shows us how easy it is to stand in awe of God’s work and still remain untouched.
Our Lady of Lourdes shows us another way: quiet trust, simple prayer, and a heart open enough for grace to do its work.
The question is not whether God is impressive.
The question is whether we are willing to be changed.
Because the God who astonishes from a distance is the same God who desires to heal from within—if we let Him.
Our Lady of Lourdes
11 February 2026
From Admiration to Conversion — Letting God Heal the Heart
Today’s readings continue a thread the Church has been weaving all week: the difference between being impressed by God and being transformed by God—between outward response and inward conversion.
The first reading introduces us to the Queen of Sheba. She travels a great distance to see Solomon for herself. She has heard reports of his wisdom, his wealth, his success, and when she finally encounters him, she is overwhelmed. She praises God. She offers gifts. She admires what she sees.
And yet, the reading leaves us with a quiet question.
The Queen recognizes wisdom. She honors it. She even blesses the God who gave it. But the text does not suggest that her life is changed, that she enters into covenant, or that her heart is converted. She leaves impressed, not transformed.
That distinction matters.
Admiration is easy. Conversion is costly.
The Gospel presses this point much further. Jesus speaks plainly to the crowd: it is not what goes into a person that defiles, but what comes out from within. He names the real problem—not food laws, not rituals, not appearances—but the heart. From the heart come envy, pride, deceit, violence, and selfishness. These are not failures of technique. They are failures of interior alignment.
Jesus is not rejecting religious practice. He is exposing the danger of substituting practice for conversion.
That danger has always been present. Israel was given the Law not as an end in itself, but as a guide toward love of God and neighbor. When the Law became a shield to protect people from change, it lost its purpose. What was meant to heal began to harden.
This is where today’s memorial of Our Lady of Lourdes deepens the message.
When Mary appeared to Bernadette in Lourdes, she did not come to the powerful, the educated, or the influential. She came to a poor, sickly girl who had nothing impressive to offer. Lourdes became known not because of spectacle, but because of healing—healing that flows from humility, repentance, prayer, and trust.
The Church has always been clear: the miracles at Lourdes are not magic, and they are not automatic. They are signs. Signs that God desires to heal not only bodies, but hearts. Signs that grace flows where there is openness, not prestige. Signs that conversion often begins in places the world overlooks.
Lourdes teaches us the same lesson Jesus teaches in the Gospel: healing begins within.
The Queen of Sheba saw greatness from the outside. Bernadette encountered mercy from the inside.
One admired.
The other surrendered.
And that leaves us with an uncomfortable but necessary question: What do we really want from God?
Do we want inspiration without change?
Comfort without conversion?
Religion that reassures us,
but never disrupts or challenges us;
that always agrees with us and our opinion or political party?
Or do we want the deeper healing Christ offers—the kind that reaches into the heart and rearranges our desires?
Jesus makes it clear: the real work of faith is interior. It is not about managing appearances, but about allowing God to touch what is hidden. That kind of healing takes time. It takes honesty. It takes humility. But it leads to freedom.
The Queen of Sheba shows us how easy it is to stand in awe of God’s work and still remain untouched.
Our Lady of Lourdes shows us another way: quiet trust, simple prayer, and a heart open enough for grace to do its work.
The question is not whether God is impressive.
The question is whether we are willing to be changed.
Because the God who astonishes from a distance is the same God who desires to heal from within—if we let Him.
