July 31st, 2004. Memorial of St. Ignatius of Loyola, priest.

A reading from the book of the prophet, Jeremiah.

Woe to me, mother, that you gave me birth, a man of strife and contention to all the land.

I neither borrow nor lend, yet all curse me.

When I found your words, I devoured them.

They became my joy and the happiness of my heart, because I bore your name.

O Lord, God of hosts.

I did not sit celebrating in the circle of merrymakers.

Under the weight of your hand, I sat alone because you filled me with indignation.

Why is my pain continuous, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed? You have indeed become for me a treacherous brook, whose waters do not abide. Thus the Lord answered me, if you repent so that I restore you,

in my presence you shall stand. If you bring forth the precious without the vial, you shall be my

mouthpiece. Then it shall be they who turn to you, and you shall not turn to them. And I will make you

toward this people a solid wall of brass.

Though they fight against you, they shall not prevail.

For I am with you to deliver and rescue you, says the Lord.

I will free you from the hand of the wicked and rescue you from the grasp of the violent. The word of the Lord.

The responseorial psalm. The response is, God is my refuge on the day of distress.

Rescue me from my enemies, oh my God, from my adversaries defend me.

Rescue me from evildoers, from bloodthirsty men, save me.

God is my refuge on the day of distress.

For behold, they lie in wait for my life.

Mighty men come together against me.

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