1st Reading – Genesis 18:20-32
In those days, the LORD said:
“The outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is so great,
and their sin so grave,
that I must go down and see whether or not their actions
fully correspond to the cry against them that comes to me.
I mean to find out.”
While Abraham’s visitors walked on farther toward Sodom,
the LORD remained standing before Abraham.
Then Abraham drew nearer and said:
“Will you sweep away the innocent with the guilty?
Suppose there were fifty innocent people in the city;
would you wipe out the place, rather than spare it
for the sake of the fifty innocent people within it?
Far be it from you to do such a thing,
to make the innocent die with the guilty
so that the innocent and the guilty would be treated alike!
Should not the judge of all the world act with justice?”
The LORD replied,
“If I find fifty innocent people in the city of Sodom,
I will spare the whole place for their sake.”
Abraham spoke up again:
“See how I am presuming to speak to my Lord,
though I am but dust and ashes!
What if there are five less than fifty innocent people?
Will you destroy the whole city because of those five?”
He answered, “I will not destroy it, if I find forty-five there.”
But Abraham persisted, saying “What if only forty are found there?”
He replied, “I will forbear doing it for the sake of the forty.”
Then Abraham said, “Let not my Lord grow impatient if I go on.
What if only thirty are found there?”
He replied, “I will forbear doing it if I can find but thirty there.”
Still Abraham went on,
“Since I have thus dared to speak to my Lord,
what if there are no more than twenty?”
The LORD answered, “I will not destroy it, for the sake of the twenty.”
But he still persisted:
“Please, let not my Lord grow angry if I speak up this last time.
What if there are at least ten there?”
He replied, “For the sake of those ten, I will not destroy it.”
Our first reading gains remarkable depth when we realize that it is a continuation of the first reading from last week. Rarely in the lectionary do two successive Sundays offer an unbroken narrative arc in the first reading.
Last week, we heard of Abraham’s extension of hospitality to the three visitors and the promise of a son (Genesis 18:1-10a). When the visit was over, “the men rose up from there, and looked down toward Sodom; and Abraham was walking with them to send them off.”
From this quiet transition emerges one of Scripture’s most intimate dialogues: Abraham’s bold intercession to God on behalf of Sodom and Gomorrah.
In those days, the LORD said: “The outcry against Sodom and Gomorrah is so great, and their sin so grave, that I must go down and see whether or not their actions fully correspond to the cry against them that comes to me. I mean to find out.”
God’s declaration reflects divine responsiveness to human suffering.
Though God is omniscient, Scripture often uses anthropomorphic language (God “goes down” to investigate) as a way to express divine justice unfolding in time. Another example of this framing is Genesis 11:5, the Tower of Babel.
God’s judgments are never arbitrary but rooted in truth.
While the two men walked on farther toward Sodom, the LORD remained standing before Abraham.
The two angels (appearing in human form) proceed to the cities. The LORD, who remains with Abraham, engages in a profound dialogue that reveals His openness to intercession.
Then Abraham drew nearer to him and said: “Will you sweep away the innocent with the guilty? Suppose there were fifty innocent people in the city; would you wipe out the place, rather than spare it for the sake of the fifty innocent people within it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to make the innocent die with the guilty, so that the innocent and the guilty would be treated alike! Should not the judge of all the world act with justice?”
The underlying question that drives the exchange between Abraham and God is one of divine justice. Abraham challenges the notion of collective punishment, asking whether the presence of the righteous might spare the guilty.
In many traditional societies, identity is more communal than personal. Within this construct, referred to as corporate personality, the group’s fate is tightly bound to the actions of a single member, especially a leader or representative figure. For example, Adam’s transgression brings death to many, while Christ’s obedience brings life to all.
Within this context, one can ask: If guilt can be shared, why not innocence? Might the righteousness of a few stay the hand of judgment against the many?
The LORD replied, “If I find fifty innocent people in the city of Sodom, I will spare the whole place for their sake.” Abraham spoke up again: “See how I am presuming to speak to my Lord, though I am but dust and ashes! What if there are five less than fifty innocent people? Will you destroy the whole city because of those five?”
Abraham’s respectful persistence marked by humility (“I am but dust and ashes”) reveals a bold faith.
Notice that he is asking God to spare everyone — not just the innocent, but the guilty as well. His argument is that the presence of righteousness within a corrupt group can and should affect how God responds to the whole
This anticipates the Catholic understanding of redemptive solidarity: the faithfulness of a few can mediate mercy for many.
“I will not destroy it,” he answered, “if I find forty-five there.” But Abraham persisted, saying, “What if only forty are found there?” He replied, “I will forebear doing it for the sake of the forty.”
Abraham will question God a total of six times about the parameters of divine justice, and each time God responds that he will not destroy the city if that number of innocent people are in it.
Then he said, “Let not my Lord grow impatient if I go on. What if only thirty are found there?” He replied, “I will forebear doing it if I can find but thirty there.” Still he went on, “Since I have thus dared to speak to my Lord, what if there are no more than twenty?” “I will not destroy it,” he answered, “for the sake of the twenty.” But he still persisted: “Please, let not my Lord grow angry if I speak up this last time. What if there are at least ten there?” “For the sake of those ten,” he replied, “I will not destroy it.”
Abraham moves progressively from fifty to ten people whose innocence is strong enough to withstand the punishing arm of God, which is raised against the city.
At first glance, it may seem that this story will be about whether or not Sodom and Gomorrah are sinful towns, but it is not. The story is about whether or not God is a just God.
The conclusion: God is indeed just. The fate of the guilty and the innocent are not the same. This way of thinking illustrates how the salvation of many (even sinners) can come through the faithfulness of a few, thereby preparing the way to understand how the salvation of all mankind is brought about by the obedience of one man alone: Jesus Christ.
2nd Reading – Colossians 2:12-14
Brothers and sisters:
You were buried with him in baptism,
in which you were also raised with him
through faith in the power of God,
who raised him from the dead.
And even when you were dead
in transgressions and the uncircumcision of your flesh,
he brought you to life along with him,
having forgiven us all our transgressions;
obliterating the bond against us, with its legal claims,
which was opposed to us,
he also removed it from our midst, nailing it to the cross.
Today’s second reading marks the third of four Sundays devoted to Paul’s letter to the Colossians.
In this passage, Paul emphasizes the believer’s baptismal union with Christ, through which sins are forgiven and new life is freely bestowed.
Brothers and sisters: You were buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him
Paul relates Christ’s burial in the grave of the earth with the Christian’s burial in the waters of baptism. (Recall that the term baptism comes from a Greek word for “plunge” or “immerse.”)
Through this sacramental act, the Christian is mystically united to Christ’s death and resurrection: descending into the waters as into the grave, and rising with Him into newness of life.
through faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead.
It isn’t the ritual of baptism itself that saves, but rather the faith in Christ present in the Christian who submits to the ritual.
And even when you were dead in transgressions and the uncircumcision of your flesh, he brought you to life along with him,
Paul shifts from physical to spiritual death. The uncircumcised Gentiles were alienated from divine life by sin and exclusion from the covenant. Yet God acted not after their conversion, but amid their estrangement, offering life in Christ.
God’s saving grace is not a reward for moral achievement — it’s the origin of it. Grace precedes virtue. In Christ, the gift of salvation comes first, and our transformed lives flow from that gift as a response, not a prerequisite
having forgiven us all our transgressions;
Paul moves from “you” to “us,” extending God’s mercy to Jew and Gentile alike.
obliterating the bond against us,
The word translated as “bond” (cheirographon, literally “handwritten document”) is found only here in the New Testament and is used to indicate a handwritten bond of debt. The image is of a debt that was originally set to writing but has now been expunged.
It’s a powerful metaphor: our spiritual debt, once recorded and binding, has been publicly nullified through Christ’s crucifixion.
with its legal claims, which was opposed to us, he also removed it from our midst,
The new life into which baptized Christians have been raised brings with it a new standard of living, a new ethical code. In union with Christ, Christians enter a new moral order shaped by grace, not law.
nailing it to the cross.
Just as indictments of death were nailed to the cross of the criminal, so this notice of cancellation of debt is also nailed. The cross becomes not only the place of condemnation but of cosmic forgiveness.
“See to it that we do not again become debtors to the old contract. Christ came once; he found the certificate of our ancestral indebtedness which Adam wrote and signed. Adam contracted the debt; by our subsequent sins we increased the amount owed. In this contract are written a curse, and sin, and death and the condemnation of the Law. Christ took all these away and pardoned them. Saint Paul cries out and says: ‘The decree of our sins which was against us, he has taken it completely away, nailing it to the cross.’ He did not say ‘erasing the decree,’ nor did he say ‘blotting it out,’ but ‘nailing it to the cross,’ so that no trace of it might remain. This is why he did not erase it but tore it to pieces.” [Saint John Chrysostom (ca. 388-389 AD), Baptismal Catecheses 3,21]
Gospel – Luke 11:1-13
Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he had finished,
one of his disciples said to him,
“Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.”
He said to them, “When you pray, say:
Father, hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread
and forgive us our sins
for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us,
and do not subject us to the final test.”
And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend
to whom he goes at midnight and says,
‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread,
for a friend of mine has arrived at my house from a journey
and I have nothing to offer him,’
and he says in reply from within,
‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked
and my children and I are already in bed.
I cannot get up to give you anything.’
I tell you,
if he does not get up to give the visitor the loaves
because of their friendship,
he will get up to give him whatever he needs
because of his persistence.
“And I tell you, ask and you will receive;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives;
and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
What father among you would hand his son a snake
when he asks for a fish?
Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?
If you then, who are wicked,
know how to give good gifts to your children,
how much more will the Father in heaven
give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”
Today’s gospel reading is a discourse on prayer. The focus is on asking, seeking, and knocking — a call to bold, trusting prayer rooted in relationship.
Jesus was praying in a certain place,
More than any other gospel, Luke consistently presents Jesus as a Messiah who prays.
when he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.”
Prayer practices in Second Temple Judaism often served to mark group identity and express shared beliefs. The Pharisees, the Essenes, and the disciples of John the Baptist were each distinguished by their distinctive prayers and spiritual practices. These prayers not only reflected their theological emphases but also helped shape and reinforce communal identity.
So when the disciples make this request, they are likely seeking more than technique: They’re asking for a unifying prayer that would express the heart of his teaching and bind them together as his followers.
He said to them, “When you pray, say:
It’s unclear whether Jesus is introducing this as a fixed prayer to recite or a model for prayer. The Church, along with many scholars and commentators, embraces both: the Lord’s Prayer is a prayer to be reverently repeated and also a blueprint shaping the content and priorities of Christian prayer.
Its simplicity and brevity stand in contrast to the elaborate prayers common in Jewish and Greco-Roman traditions at the time.
Father,
Jesus begins by drawing his disciples into his own intimate relationship with God, who is not distant, but lovingly paternal.
From this, we see that prayer begins with childlike trust: the simple language of sons and daughters speaking to their father.
hallowed be your name,
This petition seeks God’s name to be honored as holy, not just in word, but in the lives of all people. In Scripture, names are sacred; they reveal a person’s identity, character, and mission. This is especially true of God’s name.
Therefore, to hallow God’s name is to honor his holiness.
This reminds us that all prayer should begin with reverence, placing God’s glory above our own needs. The intimacy we have with God as a loving father must always coexist with respect and awe.
your kingdom come.
This expresses a desire for God’s reign to be fully realized, where his will is done on earth as in heaven.
It is both a prayer for the world’s transformation and an invitation for our lives to be conformed to his purposes.
Give us each day our daily bread
This petition asks for daily sustenance, both material and spiritual. The Church traditionally sees this as having a threefold meaning: the literal bread we need, the Bread of the Word of God, and the Eucharist, the Bread of Life.
The unusual Greek word epioúsion, translated as “daily,” suggests ongoing, active dependence on God’s providence.
The plural pronouns throughout the Lord’s Prayer (“our Father,” “give us,” etc.) emphasize that we pray not only as individuals but as members of the Body of Christ.
and forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us,
Forgiveness is as essential to the soul as bread is to the body. Yet this gift comes with a call: those who receive mercy must extend it. This is the only line in the Lord’s Prayer that explicitly links God’s action to our own — our forgiveness is tied to how we forgive others.
As Jesus emphasizes in the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:21-35), refusing to forgive others is, in effect, a rejection of God’s mercy. The Catechism affirms this truth: Divine mercy cannot penetrate our hearts if we remain closed to forgiving those who have wronged us (CCC 2840).
So serious is this call to reconciliation that Christ commands us to seek peace with our neighbor before approaching the altar (Matthew 5:23-24). Forgiveness, then, is not optional—it is a vital expression of our communion with God.
and do not subject us to the final test.”
This line is traditionally rendered “lead us not into temptation,” a literal translation of the Greek mē eisenenkēs hēmas eis peirasmon. Rooted in the Latin Vulgate (ne nos inducas in tentationem), this phrasing has shaped Christian prayer for centuries.
Yet the Greek word peirasmos can mean both temptation (enticement to sin) and trial (a test of faith), leading to alternate translations like “do not subject us to the final test” or “do not let us fall into temptation.”
The traditional wording has prompted theological concern, as it may suggest God leads us into sin—an idea Scripture rejects (James 1:13). Rather, God permits trials for our growth but does not tempt us.
This petition is best understood as a plea for protection: that we not be overwhelmed by testing, and that we remain faithful when trials arise. As the Catechism explains, it expresses a child’s trust in the Father’s care amid spiritual struggle (CCC 2846–2849).
“In summaries of so few words, how many utterances of the prophets, the Gospels, the apostles— how many discourses, examples, parables of the Lord, are touched on! How many duties are simultaneously discharged! The honor of God in the ‘Father;’ the testimony of faith in the ‘Name;’ the offering of obedience in the ‘Will;’ the commemoration of hope in the ‘Kingdom;’ the petition for life in the ‘Bread;’ the full acknowledgment of debts in the prayer for their ‘Forgiveness;’ the anxious dread of temptation in the request for ‘Protection.’ What wonder? God alone could teach how he wished Himself prayed to. The religious rite of prayer therefore, ordained by Himself, and animated, even at the moment when it was issuing out of the Divine mouth, by His own Spirit, ascends, by its own prerogative, into heaven, commending to the Father what the Son has taught.” [Tertullian, On Prayer, Chapter 9]
And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend to whom he goes at midnight and says, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, for a friend of mine has arrived at my house from a journey and I have nothing to offer him,’
Jesus follows his teaching of the Lord’s Prayer with a short parable that is found only in Luke’s Gospel.
While the midnight setting might seem odd for such a request, travelers often journeyed at night to avoid the heat. Failing to provide for a guest, especially someone arriving from a journey, would bring shame not just on the individual but on the whole household or village. The man asking for bread is not being rude or entitled; he is trying to protect his guest’s dignity and his own honor.
and he says in reply from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked and my children and I are already in bed. I cannot get up to give you anything.’
Homes were small, often consisting of one room where the entire family slept together. To get up and find bread would mean waking everyone.
Note that the friend is not upset because he was awakened, nor was he unwilling to share his bread with his friend. He states that he cannot help because he doesn’t want to disturb his family.
I tell you, if he does not get up to give him the loaves because of their friendship, he will get up to give him whatever he needs because of his persistence.”
The word translated as “persistence” (anaideia in Greek) can also carry the sense of shameless boldness. It evokes the idea of someone unafraid to make an inconvenient request, because the stakes are too high to remain polite or passive.
Later in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus will tell a similar parable about an unscrupulous judge and a persevering widow (Luke 18:1-15) to teach exactly the same lesson: perseverance in prayer.
And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.
Jesus affirms the efficacy of prayer, not as a transactional act but as a relational invitation. God desires to give, but he also invites us into the posture of asking, seeking, and knocking: gestures of faith, humility, and perseverance.
“Do you see the effectiveness of prayer when it is done properly? Are you not convinced like me that, if we do not obtain what we ask God for, it is because we are not praying with faith, with a heart pure enough, with enough confidence, or that we are not persevering in prayer the way we should? God has never refused nor will ever refuse anything to those who ask for his graces in the way they should. Prayer is the great recourse available to us to get out of sin, to persevere in grace, to move God’s heart and to draw upon us all kinds of blessings from heaven, whether for the soul or to meet our temporal needs” (St John Mary Vianney, Selected Sermons, Fifth Sunday after Easter).
What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish? Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg?
Jesus anticipates the heartache of unanswered prayers and reframes them through the lens of divine fatherhood. Even when the answer is not what we hoped for, it is never malicious. God’s response is always oriented toward our ultimate good.
This is the same trust Jesus modeled in Gethsemane: “Not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). His prayer was not granted in the form of rescue, but in the form of resurrection — an infinitely greater gift
If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”
Jesus concludes with a rabbinic argument from lesser to greater: If flawed human parents give good things, how much more will God give the supreme gift — the Holy Spirit — to those who ask?
This promise is absolute. The Holy Spirit is the answer to every prayer that seeks God’s will, and through the Holy Spirit we grow in trust, discernment, and deeper communion with the Father.
Connections and Themes
Persistence in prayer. Abraham’s bold intercession for Sodom shows the power of persistent prayer. He doesn’t stop with one plea, but keeps pressing, confident in God’s justice and mercy. Jesus echoes this in the gospel: after teaching the Lord’s Prayer, he urges perseverance with the instruction to “ask…seek…knock.” This persistence is not about wearing down a reluctant God but about deepening the disciple’s trust. As Paul reminds the Colossians, we pray as those united to Christ in baptism — not as outsiders, but as beloved children living in the power of his resurrection.
Prayer is relational, not transactional. When the disciples ask how to pray, Jesus begins not with technique but with relationship, addressing God as Father. Abraham’s prayer in the first reading flows from his covenant relationship with God — he doesn’t make demands; he reasons, negotiates, dialogues, as one speaking to a trusted friend. Paul’s message to the Colossians further deepens this idea: our access to God does not hinge on spiritual performance, but on union with Christ. Prayer, then, is the fruit of belonging.
Prayer as communal responsibility. Abraham prays not for himself but for a city. His intercession is a model of advocacy, standing between judgment and mercy. Jesus likewise teaches a communal prayer (“our Father…give us…forgive us…”) and his parable highlights seeking help on behalf of another. Paul’s letter, too, stresses our shared identity in Christ. Disciples are called to pray not only with persistence and intimacy, but with concern for others — for the Church, the world, the neighbor in need.
Prayer doesn’t change God, it changes us. Because God is perfect and unchanging, prayer doesn’t alter his will — it aligns us more fully with it. Abraham’s dialogue with God reveals a soul being shaped through encounter. Jesus teaches that the Father does not always give what we ask, but what we most need: the Holy Spirit. And Paul reminds us that in Christ, we are already transformed; prayer helps us live into that reality.
Even when our circumstances remain the same, prayer reshapes the one who prays — cultivating trust, humility, and surrender. Its fruit is found not only in what it brings about, but in the way it conforms our hearts to Christ.
Sunday Readings 