In Sabbato infra Hebdomadam IV in Quadragesima
“Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her womb? And if she should forget, yet will not I forget thee.”
(Isaiah 49:15)“I am the light of the world: he that followeth me walketh not in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”
(John 8:12)
As Lent enters its deeper rhythm in the fourth week, the sacred liturgy calls us today to contemplate the tenderness of God’s mercy and the unwavering fidelity of Christ, the Light of the world. The prophet Isaiah speaks to a people in exile, weary and forgotten, while the Gospel of John shows us Christ amid the Temple, shining with divine clarity and truth in the face of rejection and misunderstanding. Together, these readings draw us to a central Lenten mystery: God remembers us even when we forget Him; He is Light in our darkness.
✠ The Lord’s Mercy is Mightier than Exile
The reading from Isaiah 49 is part of the “Servant Songs” – deeply messianic texts which the Church, guided by the Fathers, has always understood as pointing to Christ. Here, the Lord speaks to His Servant, promising that “in an acceptable time” He has heard Him and appointed Him “to restore the earth, to cause to inherit the desolate heritages” (v. 8). This acceptable time (tempore placito) is a favorite expression in the liturgical tradition for the holy season of Lent – the tempus acceptabile, the favorable time for grace.
St. Jerome, commenting on Isaiah, sees in these verses the calling of the Gentiles and the establishment of the New Covenant in Christ, who comes not merely to console the exiles of Israel, but to open the way of salvation to all peoples: “Behold, they shall come from far: and behold, they from the north and from the sea, and these from the land of the south” (v. 12). The Church Fathers, especially St. Cyril of Alexandria and St. Augustine, interpreted this as a clear foreshadowing of the ingathering of the nations into the Church.
Yet the most tender moment is Isaiah 49:15 – “Can a woman forget her infant…? Yet I will not forget thee.” This is the divine assurance we need in Lent: God has not forgotten us, even in our wandering. St. Ambrose beautifully notes that divine mercy exceeds maternal love, for even a mother’s love may falter, “but God loves always, even when He chastises.” Here, Lent’s trials become proof of God’s fatherly discipline, not signs of His absence.
✠ Christ, the Light Who Testifies to Truth
In the Gospel (John 8:12–20), Our Lord makes one of His great “I AM” declarations: “Ego sum lux mundi.” He is not a light among many, but the Light — the true illumination that alone dispels sin’s darkness. St. John Chrysostom says, “Not only did He come to bring light, but to be Light Himself, shining into the hearts of men.”
This passage falls within a tense moment in the Temple, during the Feast of Tabernacles, when large lamps were lit in the Temple courts to recall the pillar of fire that led Israel in the desert (cf. Exodus 13:21). Christ proclaims Himself as that true Pillar — not merely a symbol of divine presence, but the very presence of God among His people.
But the Pharisees object, “Thou bearest witness of thyself; thy witness is not true.” Their accusation reflects their spiritual blindness. As St. Augustine explains, “They saw the man, but not the Word; the flesh, but not the God.” Their judgment was according to the flesh — by appearances, not by faith.
In a Lenten key, this dialogue calls us to examine our own ways of “judging.” Do we approach Christ on His terms, or do we try to fit Him into our own expectations? Are we willing to follow the Light wherever it leads — even into the desert of penance and the darkness of self-denial?
✠ Lent: A Journey into the Memory of God
In this fourth week of Lent, the Church gently urges us to press deeper into conversion, strengthened by the certainty that we are not forgotten. The Servant of Isaiah comes to set prisoners free, to lead us out of exile. Christ, in the Temple, speaks as Light — not to condemn, but to call all to the life that comes only from truth.
This is the time to cry out with the Church:
“O Lord, remember me, according to Thy mercy.” (Ps. 25:7)
But the deeper mystery is this: It is God who remembers us first.
In a striking image, the Lord declares: “Behold, I have graven thee in my hands” (Isaiah 49:16). The Fathers did not fail to see in this a prophecy of the Crucifixion — the engraving of love upon the hands of the Redeemer. St. Bernard, in one of his Lenten homilies, says, “If you doubt that you are remembered, look at the Cross — the nails are His memory, the wounds His testimony.”
✠ A Closing Exhortation
As the Church prepares to enter the final stretch of Lent, approaching Passiontide, let us be consoled by today’s readings. They are a reminder that Lent is not only about what we do for God, but about remembering what He has done — and is doing — for us. He has not forgotten us. He walks with us in the desert. He leads us by His light.
So let us rise again, with renewed confidence, and walk toward Calvary with open hearts — trusting that even if we forget Him, He will not forget us.
Domine, memor esto mei: quia bonus est misericordia tua.
Lord, remember me: for Thy mercy is good. (cf. Ps. 68:17)