"Healing Shall Spring Up"

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, February 8th, 2026:
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Isaiah
​58.6-10

Thus says the Lord:
Is this not the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you,
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.

If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.

​Pause. Pray. Reflect.

Healing enters our lives through many doors. Some of the greatest healing I’ve ever experienced has come through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I recall one occasion in particular. I was oppressed by a very heavy burden of shame and, although I desperately wanted to raise the matter during confession, I struggled as my fear outmatched my courage. (Now, lest imaginations run wild here, I didn’t commit a felony. I didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t do anything dishonest. But, as many of you will understand, sometimes acts that appear neutral in themselves can inflict grave wounds on our self worth.) Following much to-ing and fro-ing, I steeled myself and headed to confession to lay it all out. What a surprise awaited me. The response I received was such an extraordinarily gentle rebuke that it could only have come straight from the heart of God: “My child, you did nothing wrong.” As the priest continued to speak words of mercy and love, my burden lifted and my weightlessness was transcendent. When I left the confessional, I didn’t walk out; I floated out.

Let me be clear: this was a mountaintop experience. I encountered like seldom before God’s overwhelming love and mercy. Most of my confessions aren’t like this. The priest doesn’t often have a reason to say I did nothing wrong, and at the end I normally walk out on foot. And that’s fine. I’m content to receive overwhelming mercy in occasional doses. Otherwise, I would be … well … constantly overwhelmed, and I’d never get anything done.

If you’re wondering why I’m going on about confession and what it has to do with the First Reading, I’m getting to that part. I see (and I hope you will also see) a connection between the last verse of the Reading and the power of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. When Isaiah says, “[R]emove the yoke, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,” I remember my mountaintop experience, when God lifted the yoke of shame from my shoulders, wrapped the accusatory finger I had pointed at myself in His gentle grasp, and replaced the shaming words I had used to describe myself with words of love and blessing. His mercy poured into my broken heart, making the light of His love rise in me "like the noonday."

And here is the really good news: the blessings of the Sacrament can survive the mountaintop. When I feel my light growing dim, I can strengthen it by sharing with others the love and mercy God showed me on that day, by loving with deliberate action the hungry, the homeless and the naked. 

There is a power in the Sacrament of Reconciliation that is about more than the forgiveness of our sins (although that is very good indeed). When God breathes His mercy and love into us through the Sacrament, He inspires in us a renewed vision of ourselves, a vision of our better selves. In consequence, we desire to show others how God sees them by blessing them with acts of mercy and love; we act upon the joy that wells up within us when God pours out His mercy upon us; we become givers of good things. This is God’s healing mercy springing up, healing us and healing the world.


​Donna Davis

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