Readings:
- Epistle: 1 Corinthians 1:4–8
- Gospel: Matthew 9:1–8
Liturgical Context: Dominica XVIII Post Pentecosten
Liturgical Rank: II Classis
Liturgical Season: Time After Pentecost
Tone: Gratitude, Grace, and Healing
As Holy Mother Church leads us through the season of spiritual maturity following Pentecost, the XVIII Sunday after Pentecost draws our attention to two fundamental realities of the Christian life: our utter dependence on divine grace and the healing power of Christ’s mercy. The Epistle and Gospel for this Sunday, rich in theological depth, speak of God’s faithfulness in sustaining His Church and His power to restore both soul and body.
“I give thanks to my God always for you” (1 Cor 1:4)
St. Paul begins his First Epistle to the Corinthians not with rebuke (though that will come later), but with thanksgiving—thanksgiving for the grace of God bestowed upon the Corinthians in Christ Jesus. This grace, he notes, has enriched them “in all utterance and in all knowledge,” and has confirmed their participation in the gifts of the Spirit.
St. John Chrysostom, commenting on this passage, observes that Paul’s thanksgiving is no mere flattery, but a pastoral strategy grounded in truth. He writes:
“He puts them in mind of God’s grace in them, that he might bring down their pride. For it is not by your own doing, he says, that you are made rich in utterance, but by the grace of God.”
(Homilies on First Corinthians, Homily II)
Indeed, in our own age, where pride in theological knowledge or eloquence can often cloud humility, this reminder is ever-necessary. All things—knowledge, speech, even endurance—are gifts from the Lord, given for the building up of His Church.
St. Paul goes on to say that the faithful in Corinth are “waiting for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ,” Who will strengthen them to the end, “that you may be blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Here, the Apostle sets before us the eschatological horizon: our journey is not to comfort, but to perfection in Christ.
St. Augustine, with his piercing clarity, writes:
“The Lord, Who began His work in us by calling us, will not abandon us unless we ourselves desert Him. It is He Who sustains us, not we ourselves.”
(On Perseverance, ch. 9)
“Son, be of good heart: thy sins are forgiven thee” (Matt 9:2)
The Gospel continues this thread of divine initiative and sustaining grace by recounting Christ’s healing of the paralytic. But strikingly, before healing the man’s body, Our Lord speaks first to his soul: “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” This order—spiritual healing before physical—reveals the divine priority. Man’s deepest paralysis is not of the limbs, but of the heart weighed down by sin.
St. Jerome, commenting on this passage, teaches:
“He first looses the bonds of his sins, so that being inwardly healed, he may then be fit to receive outward healing.”
(Commentary on Matthew, Book I)
And this is the rhythm of the Christian life: we come to Christ broken in body and spirit, and He heals the deeper wound first. Our faith, like that of those who carried the paralytic, must be active and trusting. The Lord sees such faith—not only the faith of the one in need, but that of those who intercede—and acts.
St. Hilary of Poitiers notes the authority of Christ revealed in this moment:
“To forgive sins is a greater work than to heal the body. For the body is restored to health only for a time, but the soul is brought back to life for eternity.”
(On the Trinity, Book IX)
And yet the scribes murmured, “This man blasphemeth.” How often does the proud heart balk at divine mercy? It is easier for the flesh to believe in miracles of healing than in miracles of forgiveness. But Christ, in His divine compassion, offers both—proof of His divinity and His desire to restore man wholly.
The Liturgy as a Healing Word
The traditional Roman Missal, in harmony with these readings, places upon our lips the verse from the Introit: “Give peace, O Lord, to them that patiently wait for Thee, that Thy prophets may be found faithful.” This waiting is not passive. It is filled with yearning, endurance, and faith in the promise of restoration. The Church, like the friends who carried the paralytic, bears us to Christ in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, where grace is given, sins are forgiven, and the soul is healed.
St. Gregory the Great once said:
“What is the Church but the inn to which the wounded man was brought, there to be cared for until the return of the Master?”
(Homilies on the Gospels, Homily 34)
In this light, each Sunday becomes a moment of divine visitation—Christ seeing our paralysis, knowing our wounds, and bidding us to rise.
Conclusion: Strengthened Unto the End
Let us, then, heed both Epistle and Gospel. From the Epistle, we learn that the grace of Christ sustains and sanctifies us as we await His return. From the Gospel, we learn that His mercy reaches to our deepest need—the forgiveness of sins—and that faith, active and persistent, is the conduit of that mercy.
On this XVIII Sunday after Pentecost, may we approach the altar as the paralytic was brought to Christ: aware of our helplessness, trusting in the Divine Physician, and ready to be made whole—strengthened to the end, that we may be found blameless in the day of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
“Son, be of good heart.” These are the words Christ speaks still, to every contrite soul. May we, healed and forgiven, rise and walk the narrow way that leads to life eternal.