We live much of life in a valley of decision. Headlines, inboxes, and the churn of ordinary responsibilities keep placing choices before us—some small, some consequential. Today’s readings name that place without sentimentality and, at the same time, open a path through it: God’s justice is not a threat to the faithful but their refuge, and blessedness is found not in proximity to the holy but in obedient listening to the Word.
The Valley of Decision and the Refuge of God (Joel 4:12-21)
Joel summons the nations to “the valley of decision,” where the Lord judges what harms and heals the world (Joel 4:12-14). The imagery is fierce—ripe harvest, a brimming winepress, darkened skies (Joel 4:13, 15). The point is not spectacle but truth: evil ripens; injustice overflows; violence against the innocent calls out to heaven (Joel 4:19, 21). For those who suffer, judgment is good news because the Lord “is a refuge to his people, a stronghold” (Joel 4:16).
And then, just when the thunderclaps are loudest, the horizon changes: mountains drip new wine, hills flow with milk, and a fountain springs from the Lord’s house to water dry places (Joel 4:18). Divine judgment is never God’s last word; renewal is. In a world exhausted by cycles of outrage and retribution, this is bracing hope: God does not minimize evil, but He also refuses to let it be the final chapter.
St. Ambrose, who once stood toe-to-toe with imperial power to insist on moral accountability, would recognize this landscape. Psalm 97 says “justice and judgment are the foundation of his throne” (Psalm 97:2); Ambrose expected the same foundation in public life. When he called Emperor Theodosius to penance, it was not humiliation but healing—judgment as doorway to renewal. That’s the heart of Joel’s promise: the Lord’s verdicts dismantle what destroys so that life can flow again.
In daily life, our own “valley of decision” looks like this:
- How we spend money—does it align with justice or feed exploitation?
- What we post or forward—does it heal or inflame?
- How we respond to hurt—do we mirror retaliation or choose mercy anchored in truth?
Each decision joins one harvest or another.
Rejoicing That Runs on Justice (Psalm 97:1-2, 5-6, 11-12)
“Rejoice in the Lord, you just!” (Psalm 97:12). This isn’t shallow positivity. It is the deep gladness that emerges when our lives line up with God’s reign. “The mountains melt like wax before the Lord” (Psalm 97:5): even the hardest things are not ultimate. “Light dawns for the just” (Psalm 97:11): when we choose faithfulness, light finds us—even if circumstances haven’t changed yet. Joy in Scripture is often the fruit of right order. Live toward the light, and the light meets you halfway.
Blessed Are the Listeners Who Live It (Luke 11:27-28)
A woman cries out, honoring Jesus by honoring his mother: “Blessed is the womb that carried you” (Luke 11:27). Jesus answers, “Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it” (Luke 11:28). He isn’t dismissing Mary; he is revealing why Mary is blessed in the first place—she heard and obeyed (see Luke 1:38). Biological closeness to Jesus is not the standard; discipleship is. The truest honor we can offer Christ is attention that becomes action.
St. Gregory of Nyssa helps here. He taught that the spiritual life is an ever-deepening ascent—epektasis—where each real act of obedience opens the soul to more of God. Hearing the Word is not a checkbox; it is a door. Step through it today, and there will be another door tomorrow. In the valley of decision, this protects us from paralysis. We don’t need the whole map to be faithful; we need to do the next faithful thing.
Tertullian, with his bracing realism, would add: hearing without discipline is self-deception. The gospel forms a people whose habits—speech, sexuality, money, time—are measurably different because the Word has taken root. Blessedness is not a feeling; it is a life.
An Optional Memorial: Saint John XXIII and the Courage to Open Windows
Today the Church also keeps the optional memorial of Saint John XXIII, the “Good Pope John.” Born Angelo Roncalli, he served briefly as pope (1958–1963) yet decisively. He convened the Second Vatican Council to let the fresh air of the Spirit move through the Church—aggiornamento, a bringing up to date that was really a return to the sources. In Joel’s language, he trusted that a “fountain shall issue from the house of the Lord” (Joel 4:18), and he wanted that water to reach dry valleys.
His social magisterium—Mater et Magistra and Pacem in Terris—reverberates with today’s texts: God’s kingship implies a moral order; authentic peace is built on truth, justice, love, and freedom (see Psalm 97:2, 6, 11). John XXIII heard the Word in the tumult of the twentieth century and observed it with pastoral courage and gentleness. In our era’s valley of decision—polarization, war, ecological strain—his example invites listening that becomes bold, patient action for the common good.
Practices for People in the Valley
- Make room to hear: 10 minutes of Scripture before screens. Read Luke 11:27-28 slowly; ask, “What obedience is this inviting today?”
- Examine your harvest: At day’s end, name one choice that aligned with God’s justice (Psalm 97:2) and one that did not. Bring both to the Lord’s refuge (Joel 4:16).
- Choose concrete mercy: Repair one relationship by a truthful, non-accusing conversation or by a quiet act of service.
- Reorder consumption: Redirect one regular purchase toward an ethical alternative as an act of justice for the vulnerable (Joel 4:19, 21).
- Guard your speech: Before posting or replying, ask if your words will be light for the just (Psalm 97:11) or fuel for the winepress of malice (Joel 4:13).
In the end, the valley of decision is not a place to fear. It is where God meets us as judge and refuge, where mountains melt and light breaks through, where hearing becomes doing, and where joy is born. Choose one act of obedience today. The fountain is already flowing (Joel 4:18). Rejoice in the Lord, you just (Psalm 97:12).