🗓️ Thursday after Ash Wednesday

The liturgical commemoration of the Thursday after Ash Wednesday has a peculiar historical origin in the development of the traditional Roman calendar. In the early days of the Church, the Lenten fast began on Quadragesima Sunday, totaling thirty-six days of actual fasting, since Sundays were excluded from penance. It was during the time of Pope Saint Gregory the Great, between the 6th and 7th centuries, that the beginning of Lent was anticipated to the preceding Wednesday, in order to guarantee exactly forty days of fasting, following the example of Christ in the desert. However, the Thursdays of the Lenten period remained for a long time as "aliturgical" or vacant days, on which the communities gathered but did not have their own Mass formulary, using the readings from the previous Sunday. It was only in the 8th century, under the pontificate of Pope Gregory II, that the Thursdays of Lent received their own liturgical texts and defined stational churches in Rome. This specific Thursday, having as its station the church of San Giorgio in Velabro, was endowed with readings that introduce the faithful newly entered into the Lenten discipline to the vital need for confident prayer, compunction of heart, and unwavering faith in the face of human weakness, thus completing the daily cycle of instruction for catechumens and penance for the faithful.

🎶 Introit (Ps 54, 17.19.20 and 23; 2-3)

Dum clamárem ad Dóminum, exaudívit vocem meam ab his, qui appropinquant mihi: et humiliávit eos, qui est ante sǽcula, et manet in ætérnum: jacta cogitátum tuum in Dómino, et ipse te enútriet. Exáudi, Deus, oratiónem meam, et ne despéxeris deprecatiónem meam: inténde mihi, et exáudi me.

When I cried to the Lord, He heard my voice from them that draw near to me; and He humbled them, who is before all ages, and remains forever: cast thy care upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. Hear, O God, my prayer, and despise not my supplication: be attentive to me and hear me.

📖 Reading (Is 38, 1-6)

In diébus illis: Ægrotávit Ezechías usque ad mortem: et introívit ad eum Isaías fílius Amos Prophéta, et dixit ei: Hæc dicit Dóminus: Dispóne dómui tuæ, quia moriéris tu, et non vives. Et convértit Ezechías fáciem suam ad paríetem, et orávit ad Dóminum, et dixit: Obsecro, Dómine, meménto, quǽso, quómodo ambuláverim coram te in veritáte, et in corde perfécto, et quod bonum est in óculis tuis, fécerim. Et flevit Ezechías fletu magno. Et factum est verbum Dómini ad Isaíam, dicens: Vade, et dic Ezechíæ: Hæc dicit Dóminus, Deus David patris tui: Audívi oratiónem tuam, et vidi lácrimas tuas: ecce, ego adjíciam super dies tuos quíndecim annos: et de manu regis Assyriórum éruam te, et civitátem istam, et prótegam eam, ait Dóminus omnípotens.

In those days: Hezekiah was sick unto death. And Isaiah the son of Amoz, the prophet, came unto him, and said to him: Thus saith the Lord: Take order with thy house, for thou shalt die, and not live. Then Hezekiah turned his face toward the wall, and prayed to the Lord, and said: I beseech thee, O Lord, remember, I pray thee, how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight. And Hezekiah wept with a great weeping. And the word of the Lord came to Isaiah, saying: Go and say to Hezekiah: Thus saith the Lord, the God of David thy father: I have heard thy prayer, and I have seen thy tears: behold, I will add unto thy days fifteen years; and I will deliver thee and this city out of the hand of the king of the Assyrians, and I will protect it, saith the Lord almighty.

✝️ Gospel (Mt 8, 5-13)

In illo témpore: Cum introísset Jesus Caphárnaum, accéssit ad eum centúrio, rogans eum, et dicens: Dómine, puer meus jacet in domo paralýticus, et male torquétur. Et ait illi Jesus: Ego véniam, et curábo eum. Et respóndens centúrio, ait: Dómine, non sum dignus, ut intres sub tectum meum: sed tantum dic verbo, et sanábitur puer meus. Nam et ego homo sum sub potestáte constitútus, habens sub me mílites: et dico huic: Vade, et vadit; et alii: Veni, et venit; et servo meo: Fac hoc, et facit. Audiens autem Jesus, mirátus est, et sequéntibus se dixit: Amen, dico vobis, non invéni tantam fidem in Israël. Dico autem vobis, quod multi ab Oriénte et Occidénte vénient, et recúmbent cum Abraham et Isaac et Jacob in regno cœlórum: fílii autem regni ejiciéntur in ténebras exterióres: ibi erit fletus et stridor déntium. Et dixit Jesus centurióni: Vade, et sicut credidísti, fiat tibi. Et sanátus est puer in illa hora.

At that time: When Jesus had entered into Capernaum, there came to him a centurion, beseeching him, and saying: Lord, my servant lieth at home sick of the palsy, and is grievously tormented. And Jesus saith to him: I will come and heal him. And the centurion making answer, said: Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldst enter under my roof: but only say the word, and my servant shall be healed. For I also am a man subject to authority, having under me soldiers; and I say to this, Go, and he goeth, and to another, Come, and he cometh, and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it. And Jesus hearing this, marveled, and said to them that followed him: Amen I say to you, I have not found so great faith in Israel. And I say to you that many shall come from the East and the West, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven: but the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into the exterior darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. And Jesus said to the centurion: Go, and as thou hast believed, so be it done to thee. And the servant was healed at the same hour.

🙏 The cry of the soul and healing through faith

The Introit of this liturgy immediately establishes the inner attitude that should govern our soul throughout all of Lent: "Dum clamarem ad Dominum..." (When I cried to the Lord). This cry is not a mere noise, but the vocalized expression of a soul that recognizes its absolute dependence on God in the face of the paralyses that afflict it. In the Gospel, we see this cry personified in the figure of the Roman centurion. He does not belong to the people of the Covenant, but his profound faith makes him approach Christ with a humility that disarms human logic. The paralyzed and grievously tormented servant represents human nature wounded by sin, unable to move toward the good by its own strength. Saint Augustine (Sermon 62) teaches that the centurion, by declaring himself unworthy to receive the Lord into his house, became supremely worthy to receive Him into his heart. True faith, which draws praise from the Incarnate Word Himself, does not require spectacles or immediate physical presence to believe in divine power; it trusts solely in the efficacy of the Word. When the faithful, in the sacrifice of the Mass, repeats the exact words of this soldier - "Domine, non sum dignus" - he unites his own cry to today's Introit, casting all his care upon Him who nourishes and heals.

This same desperate, yet confident cry resonates in the Reading through King Hezekiah. Placed before the imminence of physical death, an inexorable consequence of man's fallen condition, he does not rebel against the divine judgment pronounced by the prophet Isaiah. Instead, he turns his face to the wall, a profoundly symbolic gesture of closing oneself off to worldly consolations and opening completely to intimacy with the Creator. Saint Jerome (Commentary on Isaiah) notes that Hezekiah did not seek to reverse the sentence out of arrogance, but presented to God a contrite heart and the tears of one who desired to walk in the truth. The king's weeping is not the despair of those who have no faith, but a supplication perfectly aligned with the petition of the Introit: "despise not my supplication: be attentive to me and hear me". God, in His infinite condescension, not only prolongs Hezekiah's earthly life, but offers him deliverance and protection, demonstrating that there is no decree of ruin that cannot be transmuted by the mercy poured out upon a truly repentant heart.

The profound connection between the healing of the centurion's servant and the prolongation of Hezekiah's life reveals the central axis of this penitential liturgy: the humiliation of the human being before "Him who is before all ages" is the only path to restoration. The mortal illness of the king and the painful paralysis of the servant mirror the state of our soul without sanctifying grace. The Lenten effort does not consist of proving our strength to God, but of exposing our weakness to Him with sincere tears and unwavering faith. By turning our face to the wall of our interior, distancing ourselves from distractions, and confessing our unworthiness to house the divine Majesty under the roof of our soul, we provoke the salvific admiration of Christ. It is then that the anguished cry is transformed into instantaneous healing, and the word of the Lord rescues us from the exterior darkness to seat us at the table in the Kingdom of heaven.