27 March 2026
Faithful, even when it’s hard
As we arrive at this point in Lent, it’s worth stepping back and seeing the journey we’ve been on. The first part of Lent those early weeks focused on repentance. “Repent and believe in the Gospel.” We looked honestly at sin, temptation, and the ways we turn from God, and we were given the tools by the Church to return: prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and the mercy of God.
Then the second phase shifted. The focus moved more toward belief—what God is doing in us, especially through baptism. The readings helped prepare those coming into the Church, while reminding the rest of us what it means to live as people who have already passed through those waters. It wasn’t just about turning away from sin anymore—it was about becoming something new.
And now in this final stretch, everything has become more intense, more focused. The readings no longer speak in general terms. They begin to show us the cost of belonging to God—and the growing resistance to Christ that will soon lead to the Cross.
You can feel that tension clearly in both readings today. Jeremiah says: “All those who were my friends are on the watch for any misstep of mine.” He is surrounded. Watched. Opposed. Even those who once stood with him are now waiting for him to fall. And yet, in the middle of that, he says: “But the Lord is with me, like a mighty champion.” That’s not naïve optimism. That’s hard-earned faith. Jeremiah knows what it is to be rejected, but he also knows what it is to be sustained by God.
Now bring that into the Gospel. “They picked up rocks to stone Jesus.” The opposition has reached the point where they are ready to act. And the reason is not unclear—Jesus is making claims about Himself that they cannot accept.
But then Jesus says something that can sound confusing to us: “Is it not written in your law, ‘I said, you are gods’?” What does He mean?
Jesus is quoting Psalm 82. In that psalm, the word “gods” is used for those who received God’s word—judges, leaders, those entrusted with representing God’s authority. It doesn’t mean they are divine by nature. It means they were given a role that reflected God’s authority in a limited way.
So Jesus’ argument is actually very precise. If Scripture can use the word “gods” for human beings who received God’s word… then how can it be blasphemy for Him—the one whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world—to call Himself the Son of God?
In other words, Jesus is not lowering the claim—He is strengthening it. He is saying: if those who merely receive God’s word can be called “gods” in a limited sense, how much more is it fitting that He, who is sent by the Father, who does the works of the Father, who lives in perfect unity with the Father, should be called the Son of God?
And then He adds: “The Father is in me and I am in the Father.” That is the heart of it. Jesus is not just a messenger. He is not just a teacher. He is not just a prophet. He is the one who reveals the Father because He shares in the very life of the Father.
And that is why they pick up stones. Because once that claim is made clear, there is no neutral ground. Either He is who He says He is… or He must be rejected.
That is the tension of this moment in Lent. Everything is being brought into the light.
…So who is Jesus?
And how do we respond to Him?
Because the question is no longer theoretical. If Jesus truly is the Son—if He is the one sent by the Father, the one in whom the Father is present—then He is not just someone to admire. He is someone to follow. To trust. To obey. Even when it is difficult. Even when it costs something.
And that is where Lent is leading us now—not just to understand who Jesus is, but to decide what we will do with Him.
Because the closer we get to the Cross, the clearer it becomes that following Him will always involve a choice.
Will we give Him our heart, or will we walk away?