A Scriptural Reflection by Fr. Jim Sullivan on the Mass Readings for Sunday, February 22, the First Sunday of Lent
Genesis 2:7-9, 3:1-7
Psalm 51:3-6, 12-13, 17
Romans 5:12-19
Matthew 4:1-11
I imagine the principal theme in most homilies from Catholic pulpits this Sunday will be one which examines the temptation of the Lord in the desert. It’s a classic Lenten subject. I have expanded on this theme more than once in these written homilies, and intend here to take a more general approach, looking at the broad theme present in today’s readings, that of temptation and sin.
The passage from Genesis starts with a description of the original goodness of creation; how God planted the garden for our first parents with trees, including the tree of knowledge. Placed at the center of the garden, the fruit of this tree was not to be eaten (Genesis 2:8- 9; also vss. 16-17, not included in today’s reading). The passage goes on to describe how our first parents were tempted to “become like gods,” knowing the difference between good and evil Genesis 3:5-6). Adam and Eve found this promise so—well, tempting—that they sinned and brought judgment upon themselves and all creation. This, of course, is the beginning of sin in the world, hence its title Original Sin. Every sin since can be traced ultimately back to this primeval act of rebellion.
Psalm 51 is famous. Sometimes called the miserere—having to do with mercy, not misery!—it is one of the six Penitential Psalms; psalms in which the psalmist admits guilt, even, as in this case, deep guilt. The psalmist then throws himself on the mercy of God. Psalm 51 is thought to have been written by David. By that I mean that even skeptical Scripture scholars acknowledge the likelihood that David himself is the author of this psalm.
The Penitential Psalms are noteworthy both for their ready admission of wrongdoing on the part of the psalmist and for the deep confidence the psalmist displays in God’s mercy. The writers of the Penitential Psalms at times seem almost to demand God’s mercy, and they are not shy about letting the Lord know that though their punishment may be just, it is too much; it must be relieved. In Psalm 51, David even bargains with God; forgive him, restore him and he (David) will “teach sinners your ways” (vss. 14-17; outside today’s passage). In its themes of self-reflection, the acknowledgment of guilt, the need for reconciliation, and the boundless love and mercy of God Psalm 51 provides an excellent start to the season of Lent.
The passage from Romans reminds us of the passage from Genesis, explaining that through one man, Adam, all humanity fell (vs. 12). God in his mercy has so arranged things that, as through one man all are fallen, so, too, through one man—Jesus—all are granted the possibility to be lifted up, to be redeemed and made new (vss. 16-17).
Then there is Matthew’s version of the Temptation. The Gospel accounts of the Temptation remind us that Jesus is fully human. If he had been immune to temptation he would not have been truly one of us. Jesus deflects the temptations relying on Scripture (vss. 4, 7, 10). A First Sunday of Lent homily of some real depth and power might be written, examining and interpreting that fact alone.
In any event, and to wrap this one, tempted, Adam fell. Tempted, David fell. Tempted, we may also at times fall. Tempted, Jesus triumphed. Therein lies our example and our hope, as we begin our Lenten journey.
Praise God.
My best wishes as Lent gets underway.
God bless.
Love,
Fr. Jim










The following is adapted from the best-selling book, 
Visionaries of Our Lady of Zaro
On June 24, 1981, the eve of the Feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, two young girls were walking a small hamlet in Bosnia-Herzegovina, when a woman holding an infant appeared high on a hill among the boulders and brambles of Mount Podbrdo. Instinctively, they knew it was the Virgin Mary, but they did not approach her. They and four other children felt called to return the next day, and Our Blessed Mother drew them to her, effortlessly transporting them up the mountain, over boulders and thorny bushes. The Blessed Mother introduced herself as the Queen of Peace. They fell to their knees and began to pray. She prayed with them and promised to return the next day. Our Lady has regularly appeared in Medjugorje ever since, as have countless stories of conversion and miracles, making the apparitions of Our Lady in Medjugorje one of the longest and most fascinating in modern church history.
Those who have not yet heard a proper introduction to the revelations on the “Gift of Living in the Divine Will,” which Jesus entrusted to Luisa are sometimes perplexed by the zeal harbored by those who have had this introduction: “Why so much emphasis on the message of this lowly lay woman from Italy who died over 70 years ago?”
(1913-1985) Wife, Mother, Mystic, and Founder of The Flame of Love Movement
For many years to follow, Elizabeth struggled to care for herself and her family. In 1948, the Communist Nationalization of Hungary was a harsh master, and she was fired from her first job for having a statue of the Blessed Mother in her home. Always a diligent worker, Elizabeth never had good fortune in her long string of short-lived jobs, as she struggled to feed her family. Eventually, all of her children married, and in time, moved back in with her, bringing their children with them.
Italy (1930-2011) Priest, Mystic, and Founder of The Marian Movement of Priests
A North-American man, who wishes to remain anonymous, and whom we will call Walter, was obnoxiously loud, braggadocious, and who mocked the Catholic faith, even to the point of ripping his mother’s rosary beads out of her praying hands and scattering them across the floor, went through a profound conversion.
Born in 1972 in Itajai in the state of Santa Catarina in Brazil, Eduardo Ferreira found an image of Our Lady of Aparecida in the courtyard of the family house on January 6, 1983. On October 12, 1987, four days after his First Communion, Eduardo and his sister Eliete were praying in front of this image when Eduardo saw a blue light emerging from it and illuminating the room. On February 12, 1988, he had his first vision of the Virgin Mary in grotto alongside 54 roses. Before the Virgin’s feet, there was a small stream where a snake appeared and wanted to jump in the water, so Our Lady trampled it with her foot. The snake writhed all over, trying to escape. In this vision that lasted about five minutes, the Virgin Mary introduced herself as the Lady of the Rosary.
The experiences of Manuela Strack (born in 1967) in Sievernich, Germany (25 km from Cologne in the diocese of Aachen) can be divided into two phases. Manuela, whose alleged mystical experiences began in childhood and intensified from 1996 onwards, first claimed to have received a large number of messages from Our Lady, Jesus, and the saints between 2000 and 2005, including locutions of a surprising theological and poetic density which she attributed to St. Teresa of Avila. Twenty-five “public” Marian apparitions took place between 2000 and 2002: in the first of these, the Mother of God asked Manuela, “Will you become a living Rosary for me? I am Mary, the Immaculate.” She also revealed to her that apparitions had already occurred in Sievernich during the Second World War but were hidden by the Nazis (the parish priest, Fr. Alexander Heinrich Alef, was an opponent of Hitler and died in a concentration camp).
In 1996, an anonymous woman in Rome, referred to as “Little Mary” (Piccola Maria) began receiving the locutions known as “Drops of Light” (Gocce di Luce), of which the well-known Italian publishers Edizioni Segno issued 10 volumes in book form, the latest dating from 2017, although the messages are ongoing. The only information given about the recipient is that she is a simple housewife and mother who lives in poverty and hiddenness. The locutions, attributed to Jesus, are predominantly catecheses on the Mass readings for the day, but sometimes touch on external events. For those familiar with Catholic mystical literature of the modern era, the tone and highly-structural, Scripturally dense content resemble the lengthy pedagogical discourses of the Lord found in the writings of Luisa Piccarreta or Don Ottavio Michelini.
Born in El Salvador in 1954 but living in Quebec, Canada, Sulema Gomez has been receiving messages for many years, which she attributes to Jesus and the Virgin Mary. These came to wider attention with the publication of three volumes of locutions received between 2010 and 2013, entitled I Have Come to Prepare You for This Event: the Illumination of Conscience. The title is a reference to the coming “mini-judgment,” also known as The Warning, prophesied by a considerable number of mystics over several decades, foretelling a unique occurrence in the history of humanity when all people on earth (with the exception of small children) will see their spiritual state as God sees it.
Fr. Dolindo Ruotolo (“Don” Dolindo in Italian) lived from 1882 to 1970. He was ordained to the priesthood on June 24, 1905 at the young age of 23 and dedicated his long life to prayer, penance, and the service of thousands of faithful who turned to him for guidance. Fr. Dolindo authored a monumental 33-volume commentary on every book of the Bible, called Sacred Scripture: Psychology, Commentary, Meditation, an unabridged autobiography, and left behind an extraordinary number of theological, ascetical and mystical writings, including penned answers to thousands of letters. Most of Fr. Dolindo’s writings have not yet been translated into English, but the work is underway. St. Padre Pio, a contemporary and friend, once said of his inspired writings, “Not a word that came from the pen of Don Dolindo should ever be lost.”
Content: The following is taken from the book, 
My name is Vickie Leigh S. Smith, M.Ed. I am a wife and mother of four, serving as an inspirational Catholic speaker and teacher in the ministry of healing and deliverance. My life is anchored in God’s Providence, which led me onto a path of profound transformation. Initially, I was trained and employed as a behaviorist, but before I could help others move from fear-based living to freedom, I discovered that I first needed healing myself—healing from past traumas, spiritual bondage, and a broken language of living as a victim. Through the sovereign power of Jesus, I experienced firsthand what it means to contend for healing, conversion, and deliverance. The Holy Spirit became my guide, the Blessed Virgin my intercessor, and the Holy Name of Jesus my stronghold. It was through this divine choreography that the Lord positioned me to integrate my education as a behaviorist with my life experience. My journey of transformation would impact the mission to which He was calling me. Little did I know, I would one day be helping others heal, as well.
Born in 1961, I grew up in a devout Catholic family where love for the Blessed Virgin Mary was at the heart of daily life. My relationship with Our Lady began early—deepening, especially after my First Holy Communion, when I felt her maternal battles with anxiety, panic attacks, and depression. From my youth, and through the love and peace the Blessed Mother imparted to me, I sensed a call to the priesthood.
I was born in 1963 and raised in a Catholic family that attended Church every Sunday and every Holy day of obligation.
I was raised in a family that decided God did not exist, or if He did, one could not prove it, so why waste one’s time wondering about such an esoteric and irrelevant concept? As I child, I often pondered what life meant and was overcome with a sick, foreboding when thoughts of death entered my mind.

My name is Amanda Dcosta, but most people around me call me Mandy. Hearing “AMANDA!” used to give me the fleeting impression I was in trouble—reminiscent of childhood mischief or grades being handed out in school—a feeling that amusingly lingered even into young adulthood. Don’t get me wrong, I embrace both names. Amanda means “beloved,” and I’ve always felt deeply loved by my family, by friends, and most of all, by God. Even during moments of doubt, I hold fast to the truth that I am loved. Knowing that God loves me gives me joy, the kind of joy that is my strength, the kind that is a gift and a choice, even in the absence of happiness.
I was born in Marysville, in the Sacramento Valley, to a large and faith-filled Catholic family. I was named for my priest uncle, and as a little boy wanted to be a priest. I outgrew that ambition and by the time I was headed for my freshman year at the University of California at Berkeley was planning on a career in law.