Today’s gospel reading is “typical” Mark: lots of action, quick transitions, and few, if any, wasted words to tell the story. A fig tree withering at Jesus’ word. Temple “business as usual” is thrown into chaos when money changers and vendors flee before Jesus’ wrath. Religious leaders stand on the sidelines, aghast by the proceedings, wanting to take action against Jesus but fearful of the crowds who hear hope in his message. Beneath all this activity, two phrases draw me inward to that place where my soul resides. They invite me to reflect on how open I am to God’s transforming love.
The first phrase, “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people,” establishes a new threshold for the temple. Jesus is correcting abuses and revealing God’s desires for the world. The gatekeepers no longer decide who is worthy of crossing the threshold, and the days of paying a fee to enter the sacred space are gone. The new covenant is standing in the courtyard, inviting anyone who wishes to do so to cross the threshold and receive God’s loving embrace.
Sitting with this, I notice how often I still act like a gatekeeper in my own spiritual life. I decide which parts of myself to bring to prayer. I filter my desires, my fears, my disappointments, as though God is too busy to be bothered with my “stuff.” But Jesus’ words remind me that prayer is a conversation with God. Nothing is too messy or too small because every part of “me” belongs and has a place in God’s house, especially the parts of me that I sometimes neglect to bring across the threshold.
The second phrase, “All that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it, and it shall be yours,” meets me right at the threshold. It challenges me to look honestly at how I pray. Do I bring the mountains in my life to God, or do I just assume they are too heavy or too unrealistic to expect God to move them for me? Do I pray with trust, or do I cling to my judgments about what is possible? Do I offer forgiveness freely, and do I “see” and acknowledge the humanity of every single person?
This promise is not about getting whatever I want, but my interior stance from which I pray. Jesus wants me to move to a deeper place of trust and notice that God is already at work fulfilling the desires that are for my good and the good of the world. Belief becomes less about what I want and more about openness to let God shape my desires, my choices, and my imagination.
Ignatian spirituality helps me here. Ignatius teaches that prayer begins with desire – the naming of what I truly long for, even if it feels small or way bigger than what seems possible. He teaches that God meets me where I am and that trust grows when I focus on my relationship with God: slow down, show up, and notice God in all things. With the help of the slow and steady work of grace, I can move toward a willingness to receive whatever God longs to give.
In this reading, Jesus promises a new covenant and invites me to believe that what I pray for is possible if I approach prayer with an openness toward how God sees me. Prayer can be unsettling and disruptive as I learn how to bring everything to God. And, it is nurturing, planting seeds that grow into real spiritual freedom. When I trust God enough to bring my whole self across the threshold of God’s house of prayer, something in me shifts. The mountains may not move in the way I expect, but my heart does. And in that movement, I discover again that God is already here, already working, already inviting me into deeper spiritual freedom and a life-giving, life-sustaining relationship.
Gladyce Janky
I joined the School of Pharmacy and Health Profession as a chaplain in 2015, subsequently working in the Law and Graduate Schools and Heider College of Business. I continued working with distance graduate students after moving to Sun City, AZ, in 2021. I transitioned to my current life phase in July 2023, when I retired. I am a graduate of the CSP program with two master’s degrees and hold certificates in the History of the Ignatian Tradition and Spiritual Direction and Directed Retreats.
Writing reflections helps me break open the transformative power of scripture. The message is alive and relevant to me when I put myself into the story. Jesus is not just “back there.” He is here accompanying me. I share what I write with others to invite them to listen to how God is inviting them to greater spiritual freedom.
