We get the famous phrase in English today straight from Scripture:
“The writing on the wall.”
It comes from this reading in Daniel —
and it still means what it did then:
the moment when God tells the proud that their time is up.

King Belshazzar throws a great banquet.
There’s laughter, wine, gold cups, and flattery — a picture of power and pleasure.
But at the height of it all, he makes a fatal mistake:
he brings out the sacred vessels stolen from the Temple in Jerusalem
and drinks from them as if they were toys.
He mocks the holy, profanes what belongs to God.

And suddenly, a hand appears and writes on the wall:
“Mene, Mene, Tekel, Parsin.”
The music stops. The laughter dies.
The proud king turns pale.

Daniel is called to interpret the message:
“Mene” — your days are numbered.
“Tekel” — you have been weighed and found wanting.
“Parsin” — your kingdom is divided and given away.

That very night, the empire of Babylon collapses.

It’s a warning written not only for Belshazzar,
but for every age that forgets the holiness of God.

What was Belshazzar’s sin?
Not just arrogance — sacrilege.
He took what was sacred and used it for self-indulgence.
He turned worship into entertainment,
and reverence into mockery.

That’s not an ancient problem — it’s a modern one.
Our world still profanes what is holy:
the dignity of life, the sanctity of marriage, the truth of the Eucharist.
We take what belongs to God and make it a prop for pleasure or politics.

And every time we do, we see a bit more of the writing on the wall.

“Mene” — our time is short.
“Tekel” — our culture is being weighed.
“Parsin” — divisions grow because we have forgotten the God who unites.

Daniel’s words echo through history as both judgment and mercy.
God doesn’t destroy to humiliate; He judges to save.
He exposes our idols to invite us back to Himself.

The Gospel continues the same theme.
Jesus warns His disciples:

“You will be seized and persecuted… You will be hated for My Name’s sake.”

It’s as if He’s saying:
Don’t expect applause from a world that mocks the holy.
If you live for God, you will stand out — and that will cost you.

But then He adds something astonishing:

“Make up your minds not to worry… for I will give you words and wisdom…
By your endurance, you will save your souls.”

The same God who wrote on the wall in Babylon
now writes His truth on our hearts by grace.
The hand that judged Belshazzar is the hand that steadies the faithful.

When the world mocks, the believer endures.
When the powerful boast, the saint prays.
When everything shakes, Christ says: “Stand firm — I am with you.”

So, what is the writing on our wall today?
Perhaps God is calling us to deeper reverence —
to treat the holy things of the faith as sacred again.

When we genuflect before the tabernacle,
when we receive the Eucharist with awe,
when we guard our speech, our purity, our honesty —
we are writing faith where the world writes indifference.

Daniel didn’t panic when the king called him —
he stood firm because he had already been faithful in the little things.
And Jesus says the same:
Faithfulness today is the preparation for endurance tomorrow.

If we can stay true in small trials —
patience, forgiveness, prayer, integrity —
we’ll stand firm when bigger tests come.

The world often feels like Belshazzar’s feast —
a civilisation busy celebrating itself,
forgetting that every breath is borrowed.
But God still writes — not in lightning, but in lives of holiness.
Every humble Mass, every hidden act of fidelity,
is the handwriting of grace across history.

Belshazzar’s kingdom fell overnight;
Christ’s Kingdom grows quietly, one faithful heart at a time.

So when you see the world mocking the sacred,
don’t lose heart — shine brighter.
When others drink from what is holy,
you adore what is holy.
When the world trembles,
stand on the Rock that will never crumble.