Memorial of St. Anthony, abbot

1Samuel 9:1-4,17-19,10:1 / Ps. 20:2-7 / Mark 2:13 – 17

Beloved in Christ,
Jesus often taught using images drawn from ordinary life-things his listeners knew well and encountered every day. In the Gospels, he speaks of himself as a shepherd searching tirelessly for a lost sheep. He describes himself as a bridegroom rejoicing at a wedding feast. He is like a traveler who stops to care for a wounded stranger by the roadside. These images reveal not only who Jesus is, but also the heart of God.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus offers us another powerful image: he presents himself as a doctor. He says plainly, “Those who are well do not need a doctor, but the sick do.” With these words, Jesus tells us something very important about his mission and about how God looks at us.
He speaks this way because the religious leaders of his time were scandalized. They could not understand why Jesus chose to sit at table with tax collectors. These were sinners and people considered morally compromised. They were socially rejected and religiously impure. In their minds, holiness meant distance. To be close to sinners was to risk contamination.

But Jesus reveals a very different understanding of holiness. For Jesus, holiness means closeness, mercy, and healing.
A doctor does not avoid the sick. A doctor does not say, “Come back when you are healthy.” Instead, the doctor goes precisely where there is pain, infection, weakness, and brokenness. In the same way, Jesus goes deliberately to those who are wounded-spiritually, morally, emotionally.

This is a message we all need to hear, because very often we think the opposite. Many people stay away from God because they believe they are not good enough, not holy enough, not worthy enough. Some say, “Let me first fix my life, then I will come back to church.” But Jesus tells us today: come as you are. Healing comes first; perfection comes later.

Brothers and sisters, each one of us has been gifted by God with talents, abilities, and opportunities. God also gives us freedom. We have the freedom to choose how we live. We decide how to use these gifts. We choose how to respond to His call. Yet God does not shout at us. He does not force us.
He gently nudges our hearts, often in small and quiet ways.

Sometimes that nudge comes when we feel disturbed by someone’s suffering. Sometimes it comes through a persistent thought to forgive, to reconcile, to help, or to change direction.
Sometimes it comes when we feel restless with the way things are. The question is not whether God is speaking-but are we listening?

The religious leaders of Jesus’ time thought they were close to God because they followed the law strictly. Yet they could not recognize God standing in front of them. Why? Because they had no room for mercy. They believed God belonged only to the righteous.

But Jesus shows us that God’s table is always open. There is always a place for us—whether we are strong or weak, faithful or struggling, confident or broken. Our sins do not drive the Lord away. Our weaknesses do not repel him. On the contrary, his presence in our weakness is what lifts us up.

Think of a parent with a sick child. The child’s illness does not make the parent love less; it makes the parent draw closer. That is how God looks at us. We come before him not pretending to be perfect, but honestly, in our brokenness— and he never turns us away.

Gospel tells us that many tax collectors and sinners followed Jesus. These were people others avoided, judged, and dismissed. Yet Jesus saw more in them than their failures. He saw their potential. He did not wait for them to become virtuous before loving them. His love itself transformed them. This challenges us deeply as a parish community.
Do we sometimes behave like the religious leaders—quietly judging who is “serious” about faith and who is not? Do we decide who deserves welcome and who does not? Or do we show the heart of Christ, who opens his arms to all?

Jesus continues to deal with us like a doctor— patiently, persistently, lovingly. He works on us slowly, through prayer, through the sacraments, through daily life experiences. He heals us not just for our own sake. He heals us so that we too can become instruments of healing for others.

May the Lord who eats with sinners. May the Lord heal the sick. He never gives up on us. May he continue to draw us closer to himself. May we gradually become the people God desires us to be.