Holiness in Everyday Justice

Lent begins by returning us to what God has always wanted: a holiness that looks like justice, and a piety that looks like mercy. Today’s readings braid together a single thread; God’s holiness pressed into human life through truthful speech, fair dealing, clean judgment, and tender care for the most vulnerable. The Psalm reminds that God’s word is not mere information but breath and life; the Gospel discloses that the King we await is already here in disguise; and the apostolic word insists that the time to act is not someday, but now.

Holiness Measured in Ordinary Justice

Leviticus does not begin with exotic rituals but with concrete commands that touch money, speech, and power. “Be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy” immediately becomes: do not steal; do not lie; do not cheat a worker of wages; do not exploit someone’s weakness; do not tilt the scales of judgment toward the strong; or the weak. This is holiness with work boots on.

• Withheld wages in Scripture looks like the gig worker paid late, the contractor waiting months on a “net-60” invoice, the hourly employee shorted on breaks. Holiness pays promptly and advocates systems that do the same.
• “Do not put a stumbling block before the blind” is not only about sidewalks. It challenges predatory lending, manipulative “dark patterns” in apps, addictive design that profits from attention we can’t spare, and any business model that exploits vulnerability.
• “Do not go about spreading slander” lands in our timelines. Shares and subtweets can become digital calumny. Reverence for God requires reverence for reputations.
• “Do not stand by idly when your neighbor’s life is at stake” speaks into overdose crises, domestic violence, despair, and the quiet emergencies at the edges of our days. Holiness learns how to respond and chooses to be interruptible.
• “Do not cherish a grudge” protects the soul from becoming a courtroom where we are judge, jury, and executioner. Fraternal correction is commanded, but never as cruelty. Truth without love is not holy; love without truth is not either.

In Leviticus, love of neighbor is not sentiment; it is a social ethic. And it is the doorway Jesus walks through in the Gospel.

Recognizing the King in Disguise

Matthew 25 is not a riddle about the end of time so much as a revelation about the meaning of time right now. The Son of Man judges by one criterion: Did love become concrete for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned? The surprise is not only that the righteous didn’t realize they were serving Christ; it’s that Christ has so bound himself to “the least” that to neglect them is to neglect him.

This is not a downgrade of worship; it is its proof. The face adored at the altar is the face that meets us at the shelter’s door, the waiting room, the visitation line, the cubicle down the hall, the tent by the overpass, the student who can’t keep up, the elder whose memory is fading, the refugee in processing, the person we find inconvenient. The King does not merely demand philanthropy; he asks for recognition. Mercy is relational.

Now Is the Acceptable Time

Procrastination in love is a spiritual strategy of self-protection. “Now is the day of salvation” does not mean frantic activism; it means refusing to postpone conversion. The acceptable time is whatever hour presents the person in need and the grace to respond. Lent shortens the distance between hearing and doing.

Your Words, Lord, Are Spirit and Life

Psalm 19 names the interior workshop where this conversion happens: the law that refreshes the soul, the precepts that rejoice the heart, the command that enlightens the eyes. God’s word is not a burden but a tonic. In a noisy age, Scripture does for the conscience what sunrise does for a room: it clarifies what is there, dispels what distorts, and warms what has grown cold.

A practical approach: hold today’s Leviticus list beside daily habits. Where are truth, fairness, courage, and mercy already alive? Where do they need resurrection?

Saint Polycarp: Courage to Love Until the End

Today’s optional memorial remembers Polycarp, second-century bishop of Smyrna, a disciple within living memory of the apostles. When ordered to curse Christ, he replied, “Eighty-six years I have served him, and he has done me no wrong; how can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” His martyrdom was not a chase after death but fidelity to love that would not lie.

Polycarp’s witness fits this Monday’s pages: truthful speech under pressure, steadfast justice before power, and recognition of Christ as King; whatever seat is occupied by Rome or culture. His calm courage invites modern believers to resist slander, to speak plainly, to bear wrongs patiently, and to prefer faithfulness over approval.

Pathways for This Week

• Do a Leviticus 19 audit: Review how money, speech, and influence are used. If responsible for paying others, prioritize promptness. If paid unfairly, seek help and solidarity rather than silent resentment.
• Practice one corporal work of mercy: Prepare a meal for someone in need; keep water or snacks to share; donate a coat; visit or call someone who is sick or housebound; write a letter to an incarcerated person through a reputable ministry; support a reentry program.
• Welcome the stranger close at hand: Notice the newcomer at work, school, or parish. Learn a name. Offer practical help navigating systems that seem obvious to insiders.
• Repair your digital witness: Refuse to share unverified claims. Retract a post that harms. Post one truthful, edifying word that builds up rather than tears down.
• Remove stumbling blocks: Make your spaces more accessible; captions on videos, alt text for images, clear on-ramps for participation. Advocate for designs and policies that protect the vulnerable.
• Take one step toward reconciliation: Pray for someone you resent. If safe and wise, initiate a conversation. If not, entrust the person to God and release the grudge in prayer.
• Put mercy on the calendar: Conversion needs a time slot. Choose a day and hour this week for a concrete act of service. Keep the appointment with Christ.

Holiness is not an abstract ideal but the texture of a life shaped by God’s presence and patterned after God’s heart. The King is not hard to find; he is simply easy to overlook. Today is the acceptable time to see him, to serve him, and to discover that his words are, indeed, Spirit and life.