Daily Reflection
June 24, 2026

I can imagine Elizabeth experiencing overwhelming joy and a deep sense of interior freedom and peace.  The birth of a healthy son lifted the weight she had carried for decades – her unspoken shame, the whispered accusations and assumptions that she had offended God.  Everything dissolved away in the first cry of her child.  God had heard her and responded to her grief. 

The sadness Elizabeth and Zechariah carried for so many years while waiting for children is a mirror image of the longing of the Israelite people.  For four hundred years, since the prophet Malachi, God was silent.  Was he listening?  Did God still consider them his chosen people?  How long must they live with the shame of God’s absence?  So, upon Zechariah writing that the child’s name would be John, those gathered were more than surprised by the break with tradition.  They understood the name’s meaning: God is gracious.  Just as John reacted in his mother’s womb upon hearing Mary’s voice, perhaps the souls of those gathered leaped with joy.  Was it possible that this child was the answer to generations of waiting, praying, and hoping? 

John’s identity came from God, not from his parents or from himself.  It is easy to look at his life and assume he was an exception – uniquely set apart, chosen for a mission.  While it is true God had a very specific plan for John, it is also true God has a plan for each of us.  John was born, in fulfillment of the prophecies, precisely when God wanted his voice heard by His people.  The same applies to our birth.  We are here now because this is when God longs to hear our voices in his plan. 

Luke tells us that John “was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel.”  His hidden years, like those of other biblical figures, were an important part of his formation.  The silence was the crucible in which his vocation took shape.  We too need time(s) to prepare to hear and respond to our calling(s).  Each stage of life offers new challenges and opportunities to reimagine our part in God’s plans. 

For most of us, escaping for an extended time in the desert might feel like a luxury we cannot afford – or might want to avoid, especially in an Arizona summer.  But the spiritual desert is necessary.  We must find ways to step back from hectic lives so we can silence the noise – both internal and external.  When we pull away, even for a brief time, we begin to recognize the subtle movement of grace – the desires God plants, the gifts received, the people He places in our path.  Ever so slowly, our purpose becomes less something we are chasing or trying to grasp, and more something we receive and live into. 

This reading reinforces the importance of trusting in God’s timing, and of patience through multiple generations.  God is listening; He has not forgotten the pain of His creation, and He will respond.  The work we do in our lifetimes may not yield results until future generations build on the foundations we lay.  As Ignatius learned during his years of formation and transformation into God’s servant, we are here to do the work God has entrusted to us, not try to follow in the footsteps of John or other saints.  We only need to trust and then move forward as far as we can on our portion of the path known as God’s plan for Salvation History.