Daily Mass Readings for February 23, 2026

Liturgical Day: Monday of the First Week of Lent

First Reading: Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18

The LORD said to Moses, “Speak to the whole assembly of the children of Israel and tell them: Be holy, for I, the LORD, your God, am holy.

“You shall not steal. You shall not lie or speak falsely to one another. You shall not swear falsely by my name, thus profaning the name of your God. I am the LORD.

“You shall not defraud or rob your neighbor. You shall not withhold overnight the wages of your day laborer. You shall not curse the deaf, or put a stumbling block in front of the blind, but you shall fear your God. I am the LORD.

“You shall not act dishonestly in rendering judgment. Show neither partiality to the weak nor deference to the mighty, but judge your fellow men justly. You shall not go about spreading slander among your kin; nor shall you stand by idly when your neighbor’s life is at stake. I am the LORD.

“You shall not bear hatred for your brother in your heart. Though you may have to reprove him, do not incur sin because of him. Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your fellow countrymen. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.”

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 19:8, 9, 10, 15

Response: Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life.

The law of the LORD is perfect, refreshing the soul. The decree of the LORD is trustworthy, giving wisdom to the simple.

R. Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life.

The precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart. The command of the LORD is clear, enlightening the eye.

R. Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life.

The fear of the LORD is pure, enduring forever; The ordinances of the LORD are true, all of them just.

R. Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life.

Let the words of my mouth and the thought of my heart find favor before you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.

R. Your words, Lord, are Spirit and life.

Alleluia: 2 Corinthians 6:2b

Behold, now is a very acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.

Gospel: Matthew 25:31-46

Jesus said to his disciples: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?’ And the king will say to them in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the Devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’ Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’ He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’ And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

This Gospel about the sheep and goats always stops me cold, like a reminder that judgment's coming and it's based on how we treat the least ones. Jesus lays it out plain: the king separates folks based on whether they fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the sick and imprisoned. "Whatever you did for one of these, you did for me." It's God asking us to see him in every person, especially the overlooked, and act on it now, as the alleluia says—this is the acceptable time, the day of salvation. Leviticus backs that up with commands to be holy like God: no stealing, lying, defrauding; love your neighbor as yourself, no grudges or slander. It's practical holiness, not just rules but a way to live without harming others. The psalm ties in, praising God's law as perfect, refreshing the soul, rejoicing the heart—words that are spirit and life, guiding us to let our thoughts and words find favor with him.

This hits me in the daily drag, where tiredness makes it easy to ignore needs around me. In healthcare data work, I see stats on suffering—patients without support, families struggling—but it's tempting to clock out and forget. At home, with kids clamoring and the dog needing a walk, patience wears thin, like holding a grudge over spilled milk instead of loving like Leviticus says.

But Lent calls us to this mercy. Jesus' story isn't scare tactics; it's invitation to recognize him in the hungry coworker, the ill neighbor, the stranger at the door. Sheep on the right didn't even know they served the king; it was natural from hearts shaped by love. Goats missed it, focused on themselves. God's asking for that shift—be holy, love neighbor, act now. The psalm prays for words and thoughts to align with God's rock-solid ways. Leviticus lists dos and don'ts, but ends with love as yourself, echoing Jesus' greatest commandment. Alleluia urges urgency: salvation's day is today, not tomorrow.

Reflecting after a long day, I think of small misses—like scrolling past a plea for help online, or not checking on a friend who's down. But also wins: packing extra lunch for a kid's classmate, or pausing work to listen to my wife's day. Running clears my head for this; pounding pavement, I mull how to be sheep, not goat. Aquarium time too—watching fish glide, it's a quiet reminder of balance, like God's law enlightening the eye.

Holiness isn't lofty; Leviticus makes it everyday: pay wages fair, judge justly, no stumbling blocks for the blind. In modern terms, don't gossip at work, forgive family squabbles, help the vulnerable.

Jesus amps it: that vulnerable one is me. Hungry? Feed him. Prisoner? Visit. It's corporal works of mercy lived out. Paul might say grace enables this, but here it's straightforward call. Psalm seeks that clean alignment: let my mouth praise, heart think right.

Lent's early days feel like this—acceptable time to start small. No eternal fire threats needed; the draw is inheriting the kingdom, eternal life with the righteous. Sheep inherit what's prepared from the world's foundation. That's hope for a dad plodding through routines. Kids learn from seeing it: when I volunteer at the shelter, they ask why, and I say, "Because that's Jesus there." Dog's walks become chances to wave at neighbors, build community without malice.

God's words in the psalm are true, just, enduring. They refresh when I'm parched from deadlines. Leviticus' "I am the LORD" repeats like a drumbeat—fear him, honor him in actions. Gospel ends stark: punishment or life. But mercy's thread runs through—now's the day to choose.

This reflection stirs me to examine: where did I see the least today and turn away? Work data shows gaps in care; maybe advocate more. Home, no grudges when kids test limits. Holiness like God's—steady, merciful.

Today's invitation: Notice one "least one" in your path—a coworker, family member, stranger—and do something simple, like sharing a meal or listening. Lord, let your words guide my heart; make me holy in the ordinary. Amen.