The readings today draw us deep into the heart of Christian discipleship—what it means to be called, sent, and faithful in the real world, not in theory but in flesh and blood.

We begin in Genesis with the moving story of Joseph. Years after being betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery, and unjustly imprisoned, he has risen by God’s providence to become governor of Egypt. Now, those same brothers come to him in famine and desperation, not knowing who he is. And what does Joseph do? He turns aside and weeps.

Joseph remembers. He is not bitter, but he is not indifferent either. He carries his wounds—but they have become a path of grace. This is Christian maturity: not forgetting the past, but allowing God to heal and redeem it.

Joseph is a model of what living as a disciple in the world looks like. He didn’t preach in temples or lead processions. He served where he was—in a foreign land, in a secular role, but with a heart attuned to God’s will. He trusted in divine providence, even when life was painful and unjust. In this, he reminds us that discipleship is not always glamorous. It often looks like quiet service, faithful endurance, and hidden trust.

The Psalm reinforces this:
“The Lord looks on those who revere him… to rescue their souls from death, to keep them alive in famine.”

Even in exile, even in hardship, God watches over His people. He is not absent. Hope is not naive—it is Eucharistic. We believe in a God who feeds us not only with grain, as in Joseph’s Egypt, but with the true Bread from heaven, Christ Himself in the Eucharist. Every time we gather around the altar, we proclaim: God has not forgotten us.

The Gospel moves us from memory to mission. Jesus summons the Twelve, ordinary men—fishermen, a tax collector, even a future betrayer—and sends them out. He gives them authority to heal, to cast out evil, to proclaim: “The kingdom of heaven is close at hand.”

This is not a private religion. It is a missionary way of life. Jesus doesn’t just say, “Be good people.” He sends them. This is what it means to be a disciple in the world: to carry Christ into homes, workplaces, communities, even into Egypt, as Joseph did. Not just with words, but with love that heals, with mercy that casts out fear.

This sending is not just for priests or religious. The Catechism (CCC 1691–1698) reminds us that through Baptism, every Christian is called to holiness and mission. We are “called to live in the freedom of the children of God… to imitate Christ.” Our parish catechesis must reflect this: we are not forming spectators, but missionary disciples.

In your family, in your job, in your struggles—God has placed you there with purpose. Like Joseph, you may not have chosen your circumstances. Like the apostles, you may feel unworthy. But if you trust God, He will use even your wounds to bless others.

This is the heart of our Catechesis: forming whole-life disciples, not just Sunday Christians. People who, like Joseph, weep in secret and serve in silence. People who, like the apostles, go out two by two, healing, forgiving, proclaiming. People who love with wounded hands and open hearts.