Guest Post by: David Tonaszuck
Reflection on the Sunday 25th Week in Ordinary Time Readings
When I was a young boy, my grandfather told me that Jesus was his best and faithful friend. I did not understand. How could someone we cannot see become our closest friend? Still, his words remained with me.
As I grew older and turned to Jesus in prayer, I began to understand. I discovered that Jesus was also my faithful friend. Whenever I called upon Him, He reminded me that I was not alone. His presence quieted my mind and brought peace to my heart. The more I received His love, the more I wanted to share it. To me, the presence of Jesus is a grace from God—a gift I hadn’t earned, but one that met me exactly where I was.
Years later, my grandfather was nearing the end of his life. I visited him in hospice and, sensing this might be our last time together, called my brother to come and be with us. We sat beside his bed, sharing memories, telling stories, and laughing. Although our grandfather could no longer speak as he once had, we knew he was listening. In our hearts, we could almost hear him laughing with us.
My brother and I were there when he took his final breath. It was painful, scary yet peaceful, and sacred. In our hearts we knew we were not alone. Jesus was there. The love filling that room came from the faithful friend my grandfather had trusted all his life. That afternoon, Christ moved through our memories, laughter, words, and presence. The One who had accompanied my grandfather throughout his life remained beside him at the hour of death.
God is Generous
This is God’s generosity: He gives us His presence and allows us to become signs of that presence for one another. His love is never measured or withheld. It is poured into our hearts and grows as we share it.
Isaiah tells us, “Seek the LORD while he may be found, call him while he is near.… For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways” (Isaiah 55:6–8). As humans, we tend to measure mercy by what someone deserves, forgiveness by how deeply we have been hurt, and generosity by what seems fair. God’s love does not fit within those calculations. His mercy is greater than our sins, His patience outlasts our wandering, and His goodness surpasses anything we can understand – it is infinite.
Jesus reveals this goodness in today’s Gospel. A landowner goes out repeatedly to hire laborers for his vineyard. Some begin at dawn; others arrive at noon or near the end of the day. When evening comes, each receives the same wage. Those who worked all day begin to grumble.
Comparison is the Thief of Joy
We understand their reaction. We may feel something similar when a person who has made serious mistakes is forgiven, when someone receives another chance, or when a person returns to faith late in life and is welcomed with joy. We compare their blessings with our sacrifices and wonder why they should receive so much.
Yet the landowner takes nothing from the first laborers. He gives them exactly what he promised. His generosity toward the last does not diminish his goodness toward the first. Those hired at the final hour receive more than they earned simply because the landowner is generous.
This is how Jesus loves us. His love cannot be reduced to hours worked, prayers spoken, mistakes avoided, or duties completed. He welcomes the lifelong disciple and the person who turns to Him at the final moment. Grace is not a prize for perfect people. It is the freely given love of God—and this is the good news we are called to share, so others may know that they, too, are welcomed, forgiven, and loved by Jesus.
We see this in the Good Thief, the man crucified beside Jesus. In the last hour of his life, he turned to Jesus and asked to be remembered. He had no time to repair his past or earn a reward. Yet Jesus answered, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” A simple prayer of faith was met with forgiveness, mercy, and eternal life. At the moment of death, the Good Thief was not alone; Jesus was beside him, sharing his suffering and leading him home.
Hope in God’s Mercy
The Psalm gives us the reason for our hope: “The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness.… The Lord is near to all who call upon him” (Psalm 145). God’s greatness is unsearchable, yet He is not distant. The God whose goodness exceeds our understanding chooses to come near. His grace cannot be counted, and His love is infinite.
Saint Paul knew this closeness. Facing death, he wrote, “For to me, life is Christ, and death is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Paul was ready to be with Christ, yet willing to remain and serve others. Whether he lived or died, he belonged to Jesus. That was enough. This assurance is God’s grace at work in our lives—the gift of knowing that, in every circumstance, we are held by Christ.
How, then, should we live this Gospel? We can stop comparing God’s gifts and begin receiving them with gratitude. We can forgive instead of keeping score, show patience instead of anger, and remain beside those who are lonely, grieving, or afraid. In doing so, we make the nearness of Jesus visible.
Remember friends, whatever sorrow you carry, whatever blessing you believe you have missed, or whatever comparison troubles your heart, place it in the hands of Jesus. Ask Him to free you from keeping score and give you a heart that receives His love gratefully and shares it freely.
May we come to know what my grandfather knew so well: Jesus is our best and faithful friend. He is near in every season, generous beyond measure, and faithful until the end. When our final hour comes, may we hear Him say to us what He said to the Good Thief: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” 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.
