Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck
A reflection on the Gospel of Matthew 18:15-20
Dear Friends in Christ,
Let me begin with a story from not so long ago, yet one that shines as a living parable of the light and love of God. Saint Teresa of Calcutta—known to the world as Mother Teresa—walked the crowded, dusty streets of her city, gathering the dying, the abandoned, and the forgotten into her arms.
When others averted their eyes or crossed to the other side, she knelt down, touched the wounds of the suffering, and looked into their faces with a tenderness that could only have come from God. She saw, in each broken body and lost soul, the face of Jesus Himself. The love she poured out was not her own, but God’s love moving through her—her hands became His hands, her words became the whispers of Christ’s mercy, her heart beat with the steady, patient love of the Holy Spirit. The world saw her as extraordinary, but what she did was simple: she let God enter her heart, and in doing so, she let God’s love flow out to everyone she met.
Prayer Connects
This, brothers and sisters, is the heart of today’s Gospel. Jesus gives His disciples a set of instructions that seem, on the surface, practical and ordinary: “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother.” If that fails, involve others, and if that fails, bring it to the church. These are steps, yes—but behind them is an unmistakable call: let love, not anger, lead you. Jesus does not say, “Condemn him, shut him out, turn your back.” He does not encourage us to hold grudges or to seek revenge. Instead, He asks us to let the light of God’s forgiveness and truth shine into even the most hidden corners of our relationships. We are called to be conduits of reconciliation, not division; bridges, not walls.
Why does Jesus insist on this? Because, as He tells us, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” When we open ourselves to God—when we let Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, permeate our hearts—then our actions, our words, our very presence become vehicles for God’s love. We do not just love our neighbor; we let God love our neighbor through us.
Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, a beloved Doctor of the Church, understood this mystery. She wrote, “Jesus does not demand great actions from us, but simply surrender and gratitude.” She knew that to let Jesus fill her heart was to let His love overflow to others, even in the smallest acts—a smile, a kind word, a prayer for someone in need. It is in these hidden, humble moments that the kingdom of God grows.
So how do we allow the light and love of God to enter, so that we may carry it out to others? Most of us are not called to Calcutta; most of us will not be canonized saints. Yet the invitation is the same.
Take the Next Steps
First, we pray. In prayer, we open our hearts—sometimes in silence, sometimes in desperate need, sometimes in thanksgiving—and the Holy Spirit enters. Prayer is not just a list of requests; it is a relationship, a surrender, a quiet letting-go of our own agendas so that God may work in us. When we pray, even when we do not feel it, God is at work, softening our hearts, filling us with His presence.
Second, we receive the sacraments—especially the Eucharist. In Holy Communion, Jesus Himself enters us; His body becomes part of ours, His love mingles with our weakness, His mercy with our failures. In that moment, we are never more united to Him, and never more equipped to bring His love into the world. The Eucharist is not just a ritual, but a real encounter with Christ, who longs to live in us and through us. When we leave Mass, we are sent forth—literally, “Ite, missa est”—to be Christ’s hands, His feet, His heart in the world.
Third, we live in community. We look at the people around us not as obstacles or burdens, but as fellow children of God, in whom the face of Christ is waiting to be revealed. When conflict or pain arises, as Jesus describes in today’s Gospel, we approach it with humility and compassion, seeking not victory, but healing and union. We do not avoid hard conversations, nor do we give in to gossip or resentment. We seek the good of the other, trusting that God’s love can heal even the deepest wounds.
Let us give thanks and praise to our Lord, who loves us so much that He longs to dwell within us, changing our hearts of stone to hearts of flesh. Let us ask Him, through the Holy Spirit, to fill us so completely that our neighbors cannot help but encounter His love in our words and deeds. May Jesus, present in the Eucharist, present in our prayer, present in every gathering of believers, make us vessels of His light—so that the kingdom of God may grow around us, one act of mercy and forgiveness at a time.
All glory and honor to God, whose love knows no bounds, who sends us out each day to carry that love into a world so hungry for light. May we, like Mother Teresa and like all the saints, let that light shine through us, loving our neighbors as Jesus has loved us.
Amen.
About Our Guest Blogger
Saint Carlo Acutis once said, “Not me, but God.” His words echo deeply in my own spiritual life. This blog is not about me, but about the work of the Holy Spirit. I choose to remain anonymous because the voice behind these reflections isn’t what matters — the One speaking through them is.
I am a lifelong Catholic with a deep love for Scripture, the sacraments, and the quiet ways God speaks through everyday life. Live the Eucharist was born from my desire to share how the Gospel and the Eucharist shape not just my Sundays, but every step of the journey.
My hope is that these reflections bless you, challenge you, and draw you closer to Jesus — truly present in the Eucharist and profoundly present in your daily life.
