A
Reflection on Mark 3:1-6
The synagogue encounter reveals
something profound about Jesus's heart: he cannot bear to see suffering
continue when he has the power to heal. The Pharisees watch him closely, not
with hope but with suspicion, waiting to accuse him of breaking the Sabbath
law. Yet Jesus doesn't shrink back or calculate the political cost. Instead, he
asks a piercing question: "Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do
harm, to save life or to kill?" Their silence speaks volumes. Jesus looks
at them with grief, their hardness of heart, and how they've twisted God's law
into a tool of oppression rather than mercy. Then he heals the man's withered
hand. The Pharisees immediately plot his death, revealing the tragic irony:
they condemn Jesus for healing on the Sabbath while they themselves plot murder
on that same holy day.
Today’s Gospel shows us that love cannot wait for a more convenient time. The
Sabbath was made for humanity's good, as Jesus teaches elsewhere, not to
prevent acts of mercy and restoration. When we pray the Joyful Mysteries of the
Rosary, particularly the Presentation in the Temple, we see Mary and Joseph
following the law faithfully, but always in the service of love, never as cold
legalism. Jesus came to fulfill the law by revealing its true heart: love of
God and love of neighbor. Every healing, every act of compassion, every moment
he spent with sinners was the law brought to perfection. The man with the
withered hand represents all of us in some way, wounded, diminished, waiting
for restoration that only Jesus can provide.
The hardness of heart that Jesus witnessed is perhaps the greatest spiritual
danger we face. It's possible to be religiously observant, to know Scripture,
to attend Mass regularly, and yet have a heart that has grown cold and rigid.
The Pharisees' problem wasn't that they cared too much about God's law but that
they cared more about their interpretation of it than about people made in
God's image. When we pray the Sorrowful Mysteries, especially the Crowning with
Thorns and the Crucifixion, we see where this hardness of heart leads to the
murder of the innocent one who came only to heal and save. Yet even from the
cross, Jesus responds not with condemnation but with forgiveness, his Sacred
Heart open and pouring out love even for those who kill him.
The healing of this man's hand calls us to examine our own hearts and hands.
Are our hearts soft and responsive to God's grace, or have they grown
calloused? Are our hands, our actions in the world, instruments of healing and
service, or do we withhold good when it's in our power to do it? Mary's
"yes" at the Annunciation, which we recall in the Joyful Mysteries,
was possible only because her Immaculate Heart remained perfectly open to God.
Through the Rosary, she teaches us to let her Son reshape our hearts to be like
his and hers, hearts that break at the sight of suffering, hearts that cannot
rest while our brothers and sisters remain in need, hearts willing to risk
everything for love.
Questions to Consider:
- Have I ever been more concerned about religious
rules or appearances than about showing mercy to someone in need?
- What part of my life feels "withered"
and in need of Jesus's healing touch right now?
- How does praying the Rosary regularly soften my
heart and make me more sensitive to the suffering of others?
- Am I willing to stand up for what's right and
merciful even when it makes me unpopular or puts me at risk, as Jesus did?
- In what ways might I be watching Jesus in others, testing
them, judging them, rather than joining him in his work of healing and
restoration?
©2026 James Dacey, Jr., OFS
