Settle It on the Way

Ephesians 4:1-6 and Luke 12:54-59 for the Feast of Saint John of Capistrano: keep the bond of peace, and settle with your accuser before you reach the judge.

Painting of Saint John of Capistrano in a Franciscan habit, holding a cross-banner and the monogram of the Holy Name of Jesus
Saint John of Capistrano, painted by Valentin Metzinger in the first half of the 18th century, holding a cross-banner and the monogram of the Holy Name of Jesus. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
In this article
Listen to this reflection · 16 min

Most of us are good at forecasts. We check the weather in the morning; we can read the sky and tell if it is going to rain; we keep an eye on the stock ticker; or we read polls with real skill. We read people too: the boss’s mood from the way he sets down his coffee, a teenager’s whole day from how hard the bedroom door closes. Give us a few signs, and we’ll tell you what’s coming. However, the hour we’re bad at reading is the one we are currently standing in. There’s the brother we haven’t spoken to since the funeral, the coworker we’ve quietly written off, the sister-in-law we manage to avoid every Thanksgiving, the parish quarrel that has hardened into a feud. We assume a better time is coming to deal with it, a warmer season, a day when the other person finally makes the first move. Underneath the delay sits a presumption we’d never say out loud: that the road is long, the Judge is far off, and peace can wait until it suits our timing and our schedule.

Today’s Gospel takes that presumption apart. Jesus tells the crowds they can read a cloud rising in the west and a hot wind blowing from the south, yet they can’t interpret the present time. Then he hands them a picture from the courthouse: if you’re on your way to the magistrate with your accuser, make an effort to settle with him on the way. Paul, writing as “a prisoner for the Lord,” begs the Ephesians to bear with one another in love, “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Today the Church may keep the optional memorial of Saint John of Capistrano. He was a lawyer and the governor of Perugia at 26, and in a prison cell he resolved to change his whole life. He’s the patron saint of judges. So these readings put a pointed question to you and me: what are we putting off that God wants settled today?

The Readings

First Reading: Ephesians 4:1-6

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all lowliness and meekness, with patience, forbearing one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all.

Gospel: Luke 12:54-59

He also said to the multitudes, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, ‘A shower is coming’; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky; but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

“And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right? As you go with your accuser before the magistrate, make an effort to settle with him on the way, lest he drag you to the judge, and the judge hand you over to the officer, and the officer put you in prison. I tell you, you will never get out till you have paid the very last copper.”

Scriptural Analysis

Today the second half of Ephesians begins. Peter Williamson notes that its first word in Greek is parakaleō (pah-rah-kah-LEH-oh), “I exhort,” and that chapters 4 through 6, though they teach, are above all “an appeal to the will.” Paul makes the appeal as “a prisoner for the Lord,” and Williamson points out that the Greek says “in the Lord,” wording that stresses his union with Jesus in his imprisonment. He asks his readers to “lead a life worthy of the calling,” and the verb is peripateō (peh-ree-pah-TEH-oh), “to walk.” Margaret MacDonald says the literal rendering better captures the active side of the word: it means commitment to a way of life, and conduct that others can see. The word for “calling,” Williamson adds, means “invitation” in ordinary Greek, like the invitations the man in Luke’s parable sent out for his great banquet (Luke 14:16-24). If you were invited to dine with the most important people in the world, you’d think carefully about what to wear and how to carry yourself.1

Then Paul tells them what to wear, and the list would puzzle any banquet guest: “all lowliness and meekness.” The Greek for lowliness is tapeinophrosynē (tah-pay-noh-froh-SOO-nay), built from the words for “low” and “to think.” Williamson notes that the pagan world despised humility, and that Christians were the first in the ancient world to regard it as a virtue. MacDonald adds that Greco-Roman society associated humility with servility, and she explains why Paul puts it first in a passage about unity amid a diversity of gifts: humility drains the competition out of a community. Saint Thomas Aquinas, following Isidore, says a humble man is so called because he is humo acclinis (HOO-moh ah-KLEE-nees), “bent to the ground,” and he describes the virtue as the one that tempers and restrains the mind “lest it tend to high things immoderately.”2

Next comes meekness, prautēs (prah-oo-TASE). Aristotle placed this virtue “between being too angry and never being angry at all,” and Williamson calls it “the inner strength not to retaliate when provoked.” Patience is makrothymia (mah-kroh-thoo-MEE-ah), literally “long-tempered,” and Williamson notes that the Greek Old Testament uses this word for God himself, “slow to anger” (Exodus 34:6), “someone who has a long fuse.” Then Paul joins patience to “forbearing one another in love,” which Williamson describes plainly: “kindly putting up with people’s faults and idiosyncrasies rather than reacting the way we instinctively feel like reacting.” Anyone who has served on a parish council knows why Paul had to write that down.3

Why does Paul insist on these virtues? Because they protect something: “eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” The participle is spoudazontes (spoo-DAHD-zon-tes), and MacDonald hears “a certain urgency” in it; the word means to hurry, to spare no effort. Williamson says “Spirit” deserves its capital letter, because the unity Paul means already exists: every Christian shares the same Holy Spirit, given in one baptism (1 Corinthians 12:13). The unity is a gift. Our part is to guard it. The word for “bond” is syndesmos (SOON-des-mos), and MacDonald catches an echo: the prisoner who writes this is himself, literally, in bonds. A man in chains asks the Church to let peace bind it together. Aquinas names what holds that bond in place. Charity, he writes, “unites not only one person to another with the bond of spiritual love, but also the whole Church in unity of spirit.” The Catechism quotes Paul’s verse and says why he needed to write it: “sin and the burden of its consequences constantly threaten the gift of unity.” Then it asks what the bonds of unity are, and answers, “Above all, charity.”4

Paul goes on to list what Christians already share, and Williamson counts seven: one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father. MacDonald points out a detail English can’t show. The word “one” changes gender as the list goes on, heis, mia, hen (HACE, MEE-ah, HEN), “reinforcing the comprehensiveness of the proclamation,” and the whole passage rings with the language of baptism. Williamson notes that “Lord,” kyrios (KOO-ree-os), is the word the Greek Old Testament used in place of God’s holy name, and the title slaves gave their masters and subjects gave the emperor. To say “Jesus is Lord” was to pledge allegiance to him above every other power. MacDonald traces the shape of the list: it climbs from the daily life of the community to the Spirit, to baptism into Christ, and finally to the God “who is above all and through all and in all.”5

We turn now to the Gospel. Jesus turns from his disciples to the crowds. Pablo Gadenz explains the weather: rain rolls in off the Mediterranean to the west, and a heat wave blows in from the desert to the south. Anyone in that land could read those signs. What the crowds can’t read is “the inner meaning of the present time,” the kairos (KAI-ros), which Gadenz calls “an opportune time” for repenting and recognizing the Messiah. Luke Timothy Johnson notes that the verb for “interpret” is dokimazō (doh-kee-MAHD-zoh), to test or assess, and he admits that the charge of hypocrisy is a little odd here, since a hypocrite would know how to read the time and choose not to. Gadenz explains it: the crowds read the outside of things and miss the inside, and that disparity is why Jesus calls them hypocrites. When Jesus reaches Jerusalem, he will weep over the city “because you did not know the time of your visitation” (Luke 19:44), and the word there is kairos again.6

The Fathers in the Catena Aurea (kah-TAY-nah OW-ray-ah) of Saint Thomas read the forecast as a sign of Christ himself. Theophylact, the eleventh-century Byzantine commentator, hears Jesus describing his own coming: “For I am a cloud, and I come out of the west, that is, from human nature.” Saint Bede says that people who can predict the weather “might if they wished also understand the time of our Lord’s coming from the words of the Prophets.” And for those in the crowd who couldn’t read the prophets, Jesus adds, “why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?” Bede explains that even the unlearned could see, by their own natural ability, that a man doing works no other man had done was more than a man. Origen draws the conclusion: “had it not been implanted in our nature to judge what is right, our Lord would never have said this.”7

Johnson says that question “demands of the listeners a personal decision,” and it carries them straight into a courtroom. “Make an effort to settle with him on the way” is, in Johnson’s rendering, literally “put labor into getting released,” apallassō (ah-pahl-LAHS-soh), the language of a settlement out of court. Matthew records a similar saying as moral counsel about reconciling with a brother before you bring your gift to the altar (Matthew 5:23-26). In Luke, Johnson notes, it is a parable. Gadenz reads it this way: the judge represents God, the prison is a debtor’s prison, and “debts represent sins” (Luke 7:40-43; 11:4). Jesus came to proclaim the jubilee, the year when debts are released (Luke 4:18-19), yet these debts won’t be forgiven without repentance, and Gadenz adds, “the sooner, the better.” The “last copper” is the lepton (lep-TON), a small copper coin; Gadenz notes that 128 of them made up a day’s wage.8

Saint Ambrose reads the accuser three ways. He is the devil, who wants partners in punishment from those who were his accomplices in sin. He is “every vicious practice.” And he is “an evil conscience, which affects us both in this world, and will accuse and betray us in the next.” Ambrose’s counsel follows: “while we are going with our adversary to the magistrate, as we are in the way, we should condemn our fault.” Bede finds a gentler accuser on the road, “the word of God, which opposes our carnal desires in this life.” The word that crosses us is the one we most need to make peace with before we arrive.9

When we put the two readings side by side, they ask for the same thing on the same road. Paul tells the Ephesians to spare no effort to keep the bond of peace. Jesus tells the crowd to put labor into settling while they’re still walking. Both assume the road is shorter than we think. The present time Jesus wants us to read is the time of grace, the stretch of road where we still walk beside the One who can release every debt. Paul shows what settling looks like among the people walking beside us: lowliness, meekness, patience, and a love that bears with them.

Daily Application

The interior movement these readings ask for is a change in how we read time. We tend to treat reconciliation like a forecast we’ll get around to checking. Jesus treats it as the weather we’re already standing in. Paul shows why we stall. Most of our delays come down to pride: the conviction that the other person owes us the first move. That’s why humility heads his list. The humble man is bent to the ground, and from down there the first step toward someone costs a great deal less.

Today, name one person whom you need to settle with. Before you reach out, examine your own part in the rift. Williamson passes on an image from Father Raniero Cantalamessa, preacher to the papal household, who compares the obstacles to communion in the Church to embolisms in a body: “the refusal to forgive, lasting hostility and the bitterness, wrath, anger, slander and malice.” His remedy is a regular x-ray, “a thorough examination of conscience,” to make sure there are no blockages we’re responsible for. Then make the effort Jesus asks for. Make the phone call or write the letter, and offer the apology with no “but” attached. Williamson is honest about the cost: “It is no easy thing to stay united to the people who are closest to us.”10

You can’t control how the other person responds, and that’s where meekness and patience come in. Meekness is the strength not to strike back if the conversation goes badly. Patience is the long fuse that lets you try again next month. You keep your end of the bond of peace and leave the rest to God.

Finally, bring your own debts to the Judge before the road runs out. Confession is the settlement Jesus offers on the way: the Judge himself releases the debt, and you walk out owing nothing. If it’s been a while, go this week.

Saint John of Capistrano learned to read the time in the worst possible place. Franciscan Media describes the world he was born into in 1386: the bubonic plague had killed a third of the population, England and France were at war, the Italian city-states fought constantly, and the Western Schism had split the Church among two or three claimants to the papacy at once. He was gifted and successful, governor of Perugia at 26. Then he was imprisoned after a battle against the Malatestas, and in prison he resolved to change his life completely. At 30 he entered the Franciscans. His legal training went into the service of a divided Church. His preaching revived a dying faith across central Europe, he worked through the turmoil inside his own order, and he helped bring about a brief reunion with the Greek and Armenian Churches. Franciscan Media’s reflection quotes the motto of a Brussels organization named for him, “Initiative, Organization, Activity,” and says simply, “He was not one to sit around.”11 The patron of judges knew the Judge was near, and he spent the rest of his life on the road toward reconciliation.

Read the hour you’re in. Bend low, make the call, make your confession, and settle it on the way.

Preparing for Sunday

This reflection is part of the daily readings. Every week I also write a full prep guide for the coming Sunday: all four readings in full, the Fathers, Aquinas and the Catechism cited properly, and three developed themes worked out at length.

I’m a permanent deacon and I write it because I need it myself. You don’t have to preach to use it.

Read the guide for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time →


Notes

  1. ↑ Peter S. Williamson, Ephesians, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009), 108; Margaret Y. MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, Sacra Pagina 17 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000), 286.
  2. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 108-109; MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 286; Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae II-II, q. 161, a. 1.
  3. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 109.
  4. ↑ MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 287, 297; Williamson, Ephesians, 109; Aquinas, Summa Theologiae II-II, q. 39, a. 1; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd ed. (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1997), nos. 814-815.
  5. ↑ Williamson, Ephesians, 110-111; MacDonald, Colossians and Ephesians, 288, 296.
  6. ↑ Pablo T. Gadenz, The Gospel of Luke, Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2018), 248; Luke Timothy Johnson, The Gospel of Luke, Sacra Pagina 3 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1991), 208.
  7. ↑ Theophylact, Saint Bede and Origen, quoted in Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected out of the Works of the Fathers, vol. 3, St. Luke (Oxford: John Henry Parker, 1843), on Luke 12:54-57.
  8. ↑ Johnson, Gospel of Luke, 208; Gadenz, Gospel of Luke, 248 and n. 21.
  9. ↑ Saint Ambrose and Saint Bede, quoted in Aquinas, Catena Aurea, vol. 3, St. Luke, on Luke 12:58-59.
  10. ↑ Raniero Cantalamessa, Loving the Church (Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger, 2005), 32-33, quoted in Williamson, Ephesians, 112; Williamson, Ephesians, 113.
  11. ↑ “Saint John of Capistrano,” Saint of the Day, Franciscan Media, accessed October 18, 2026, franciscanmedia.org.

Books Cited

As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

The Daily Reflection

The day’s Mass reflection, each morning as it goes up. Read it before Mass or with your morning prayer. Prefer one email a week? Get the Saturday Digest.

There is more of this on Thursday

The Catholic Citizen takes one principle of the Church's social teaching and works it through something in that week's news — with the words to use when it comes up. A new issue every Thursday, every claim cited by paragraph number. Seven days free, then $4.99 a month.

Deacon Dan DeLuca in a green dalmatic

About The Author

Deacon Dan DeLuca is a permanent deacon ordained for the Archdiocese of Omaha in 2023. He is completing a Master's degree in theology and preparing to begin doctoral studies; his areas of study are Scripture, liturgy, and ecclesiology. Everything published here is cited so you can check every claim.

More about Deacon Dan → · Get the Daily Reflection

Who is God asking you to make peace with while you're still on the way?

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *