Memorial of Saint Scholastica, Virgin

Someone, Not Something

Sometimes in the spiritual life, the danger isn’t that we stop believing in God — it’s that we slowly settle for going through the motions with God.

Not bad motions.
Not sinful motions.
Just… familiar ones.

We know when to stand.
When to sit.
What prayers to say.
How Mass flows.

And over time, faith can become something we do instead of Someone we meet.

That is exactly where Jesus goes in today’s Gospel.

The Pharisees were not villains. They loved their faith. They wanted to honor God. But somewhere along the way, the rules meant to help people love God started to replace loving God.

And Jesus says something that should make every believer pause:

“You honor me with your lips, but your heart is far from me.”

Not because they hated God.
Not because they rejected Him.
But because faith slowly became habit instead of relationship.

In the first reading, Solomon is dedicating the Temple — this incredible, sacred place built for God. And yet he says something stunning:

If the heavens cannot contain God, how much less this house we build for Him?

Solomon understands something we can forget:

God is bigger than buildings.
Bigger than rituals.
Bigger than structures.

But God still chooses to meet His people in real, physical places — not because He has to, but because He wants to.

St. Scholastica shows us what that relationship looks like.

She became holy not by doing more external things, but by having a real, living relationship with God.

There is that beautiful story of her with her brother, St. Benedict. They were speaking about God and heaven. When it was time for him to leave, she asked him to stay longer. He said he couldn’t — the rule said he had to go.

So she prayed.

And the storm came so strong he physically could not leave.

When he asked what she had done, she essentially said:

“I asked you.
You said no.
So I asked God.”

That is not magic.
That is relationship.
That is someone who knew God was real, present, and listening.

And this brings us to the Eucharist.

What happens at this altar is not routine.
It is not symbolic habit.
It is not just something Catholics do.

The same God Solomon said the universe cannot contain chooses to come to us in something we can receive — not because He is small, but because His love is that personal.

The Eucharist is not something we observe.
It is Someone who comes to us.

Real presence.
Real encounter.
Real relationship.

So maybe the quiet question is this:

When we come forward for Communion,
are we receiving Jesus…
or something we are used to?

St. Scholastica would remind us:

Talk to Him.
Ask Him.
Expect Him to move in your life.

Right here.
Right now.
At this altar.

Closing Reflection

Lord, don’t let my faith become routine.
Don’t let my prayers become automatic.
Don’t let me receive You without recognizing You.
Teach me to meet You here.
Teach me to trust You here.
Teach me to love You here.

Never let the Eucharist become something we do… instead of Someone we love.