Walking with Jesus: 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time
2 Kings 4:8-11, 14-16; Romans 6:3-4, 8-11; Matthew 10:37-42
The last words of the gospel strike a sensitive cord: “Amen. I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” [Matthew 10:42] On face value it sounds wonderful. We like rewards. We like getting something for our hard work or just something as a present. Reading the preceding lines, Jesus says, “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink ...” [Matthew 10:42] It certainly seems to be the direction that Jesus showed His whole life and taught us to follow: loving, caring, generous, forgiving. We approve.
Yet the rest of the reading strikes up a much deeper reaction of insensitivity and downright hurting of those we love: “Whoever loves … more than Me … is not worthy of me.” Jesus gives four examples of this. Is He saying that if I love my parents … my children … more than Jesus … AND if I don’t take up the crosses my life brings and I have to give my life totally, I’m not going to make it to heaven? How can Jesus be this cruel? Isn’t my purpose on earth to be caring and loving? How come it seems as if Jesus is denying what He is teaching?
In the verses before today’s passage, Jesus is finishing His final instructions before sending the Twelve on their first missionary journey. They are to share what they have seen and heard. They are to tell people that Jesus has been sent by God to let us know that we are loved and that He needs us to be love. Then He gives a startling reminder: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword.” [Mathew 10:34] OK … people are going to have a hard time listening to how we are to be people of love, caring, forgiveness, mercy. That makes sense. We will be rejected … we can see that happening. But wouldn’t Jesus keep family and friends close for support and comfort?
What about our crosses? We know we will have trials -- big ones and uncomfortable ones. So often we think of crosses as those aches and pains, the physical ones that can be debilitating. Our crosses can be burdens, worries, problems, conflicts with family and friends. So often these are not even visible to those around us, but they certainly are heavy ones. These can lead so often to depression and despair which can’t even be weighed on a scale.
Paul goes deeper as he compares Baptism to death: “Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? [Romas 6:3] We let go of our old life to sin and became a new creature in Christ.” This is symbolized by submerging the baptized child/adult in water and holding them down so that they have to gasp for air … a new person has arisen. The death of the old, sin-ridden person and birth of the new person modeled on Christ. This isn’t the easy way of self-sacrifice and suffering. Following Christ really means changing our plans and readjusting our lives to that of service based on selfless love.
A little example may help us along: In the old days, did we lock our doors? Many didn’t. Today is a day of locks, deadbolts, chains, peepholes, alarm systems, dogs. We realize we are closing out those we don’t want to come in. How much of this carries over to our relationships? Are we hospitable and friendly people? There is a lot of loneliness and there are a lot of strangers, aliens and displaced people. Are we all one in God? Hospitality to a friend is no big deal … no risk is involved. But to strangers? I don’t owe them anything and there is a risk involved. A story: A friend told me the people on their street were very friendly and caring. One day a beggar came and started to knock on the doors. Curtains closed … doors were locked … activity, noise, entertainment, sounds were quieted within. Not one door opened to the beggar. He left, headed for help elsewhere. Curtains pulled back, doors opened, happy sounds again echoed through the neighborhood. Hospitality is not so much about opening doors as it is about opening one’s heart. Where is my heart closed? Who do I allow in? Do I accept strangers in my midst? Are my fears stifling? Do I think and believe that God only sends nice people in my life for me to help because they fit into my standards?
The great spiritual writer Alice Camille puts it this way:
“We can’t live in Christ and bring along prejudice, callousness to human suffering, or a judgmental spirit. We can’t ask Christ to enter our lives if there’s no place for Him to sit, or it’s too loud to hear Him when He speaks. If we refuse to forgive those who trespass against us, the Lord who makes forgiveness the purpose of His life and the meaning of His death will find no welcome in us … Christ doesn’t come empty-handed to stay with us. He arrives bearing gifts of love, peace, compassion, and hope. If we’ve got bitter things in drawers all around, where’s the space to receive what He brings?”
So I reflect on:
“The gospel of Jesus is not simply about a way of life founded on love and mercy; above all, it is about the person of Jesus Himself. Today He claims a special place in our lives, more important than our dearest ones. Being a disciple is not a marginal aspect of my life, it is central. I ask for the grace to be a real disciple of Jesus, capable of taking up my cross and following Him.
“At the same time, Jesus assures us that even the smallest gesture of mercy to those in need will not go unnoticed. I reflect for a few moments on the many such gestures that fill my life.”
The last words of the gospel strike a sensitive cord: “Amen. I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” [Matthew 10:42] On face value it sounds wonderful. We like rewards. We like getting something for our hard work or just something as a present. Reading the preceding lines, Jesus says, “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink ...” [Matthew 10:42] It certainly seems to be the direction that Jesus showed His whole life and taught us to follow: loving, caring, generous, forgiving. We approve.
Yet the rest of the reading strikes up a much deeper reaction of insensitivity and downright hurting of those we love: “Whoever loves … more than Me … is not worthy of me.” Jesus gives four examples of this. Is He saying that if I love my parents … my children … more than Jesus … AND if I don’t take up the crosses my life brings and I have to give my life totally, I’m not going to make it to heaven? How can Jesus be this cruel? Isn’t my purpose on earth to be caring and loving? How come it seems as if Jesus is denying what He is teaching?
In the verses before today’s passage, Jesus is finishing His final instructions before sending the Twelve on their first missionary journey. They are to share what they have seen and heard. They are to tell people that Jesus has been sent by God to let us know that we are loved and that He needs us to be love. Then He gives a startling reminder: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword.” [Mathew 10:34] OK … people are going to have a hard time listening to how we are to be people of love, caring, forgiveness, mercy. That makes sense. We will be rejected … we can see that happening. But wouldn’t Jesus keep family and friends close for support and comfort?
What about our crosses? We know we will have trials -- big ones and uncomfortable ones. So often we think of crosses as those aches and pains, the physical ones that can be debilitating. Our crosses can be burdens, worries, problems, conflicts with family and friends. So often these are not even visible to those around us, but they certainly are heavy ones. These can lead so often to depression and despair which can’t even be weighed on a scale.
Paul goes deeper as he compares Baptism to death: “Are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? [Romas 6:3] We let go of our old life to sin and became a new creature in Christ.” This is symbolized by submerging the baptized child/adult in water and holding them down so that they have to gasp for air … a new person has arisen. The death of the old, sin-ridden person and birth of the new person modeled on Christ. This isn’t the easy way of self-sacrifice and suffering. Following Christ really means changing our plans and readjusting our lives to that of service based on selfless love.
A little example may help us along: In the old days, did we lock our doors? Many didn’t. Today is a day of locks, deadbolts, chains, peepholes, alarm systems, dogs. We realize we are closing out those we don’t want to come in. How much of this carries over to our relationships? Are we hospitable and friendly people? There is a lot of loneliness and there are a lot of strangers, aliens and displaced people. Are we all one in God? Hospitality to a friend is no big deal … no risk is involved. But to strangers? I don’t owe them anything and there is a risk involved. A story: A friend told me the people on their street were very friendly and caring. One day a beggar came and started to knock on the doors. Curtains closed … doors were locked … activity, noise, entertainment, sounds were quieted within. Not one door opened to the beggar. He left, headed for help elsewhere. Curtains pulled back, doors opened, happy sounds again echoed through the neighborhood. Hospitality is not so much about opening doors as it is about opening one’s heart. Where is my heart closed? Who do I allow in? Do I accept strangers in my midst? Are my fears stifling? Do I think and believe that God only sends nice people in my life for me to help because they fit into my standards?
The great spiritual writer Alice Camille puts it this way:
“We can’t live in Christ and bring along prejudice, callousness to human suffering, or a judgmental spirit. We can’t ask Christ to enter our lives if there’s no place for Him to sit, or it’s too loud to hear Him when He speaks. If we refuse to forgive those who trespass against us, the Lord who makes forgiveness the purpose of His life and the meaning of His death will find no welcome in us … Christ doesn’t come empty-handed to stay with us. He arrives bearing gifts of love, peace, compassion, and hope. If we’ve got bitter things in drawers all around, where’s the space to receive what He brings?”
So I reflect on:
- God’s bounty is all around us. What can we do today to be more generous?
- What is in our lives that currently gets in the way of God’s values?
- If you truly love your neighbor, as Jesus asks, what must your attitude be toward them?
- Are you able to love people whom you do not know well? What is this kind of love based on?
“The gospel of Jesus is not simply about a way of life founded on love and mercy; above all, it is about the person of Jesus Himself. Today He claims a special place in our lives, more important than our dearest ones. Being a disciple is not a marginal aspect of my life, it is central. I ask for the grace to be a real disciple of Jesus, capable of taking up my cross and following Him.
“At the same time, Jesus assures us that even the smallest gesture of mercy to those in need will not go unnoticed. I reflect for a few moments on the many such gestures that fill my life.”
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