Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, C July 7,
Fr. Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
Isn’t Jesus being inefficient? He’s short on disciples to send out and he even tells us right here to pray for more laborers for the harvest. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says the apostles won’t be able to reach every town. Yet, he sends them out in pairs. Their mission is to deliver the message that God’s kingdom is at hand. Isn’t that really a one-person job? Do you really need to send two people to say that? Why not send them out individually and cover twice as much territory?
That question is even more important when you consider the fate of those who do not accept God’s kingdom. Why reach less people? Because community is a necessary part of the message. Jesus Christ did not come just to deliver a message. He came to establish a kingdom, a kingdom of love, a kingdom that is also a family. It’s tempting to think of Jesus as a teacher with disciples – and he is that – but that’s incomplete. Above all else, Jesus Christ is a Son. He is someone in relationship and he yearns to be in relationship with each of us.
So, when he sends the disciples out to reveal his kingdom, he can’t just give them words to speak. He must give them a relationship to live. The way the disciples interact with each other belongs to the very essence of their message. They are brothers in Christ. This idea of brotherhood, of the spiritual family is the reason our first reading from Isaiah so jubilantly talks about Jerusalem – the Church – as a mother. Spiritual family sounds vague and ethereal, but scripture puts it in very physical terms. The people of God are like siblings nursed by the same mother, like that idiom we used to use, a bosom buddy.
Everything else in the Gospel is in service to this deep sense of God’s family. Sin separates us from God, so Jesus offers us redemption and forgiveness, removing obstacles that prevent family unity. Wealth fools us into thinking we’re self-sufficient, so Jesus strips the money, possessions, and even shoes away from his disciples, forcing them to depend on each other and on other people – to enter into relationships – in order to survive and carry out their mission.
There’s also the requirement not to move around from house to house. Much like children don’t get to simply pick another set of parents and siblings, Jesus doesn’t want his disciples constantly trading up for better housing arrangements and better company. A family is not about navigating the most comfortable arrangements, but about choosing to love and serve those around you, regardless of how appealing the neighbor’s house might be.
Even the warning points us in this direction: Those who reject the disciples and the kingdom of God will be worse off than Sodom. Sodom and Gomora were punished for disrupting and rejecting the natural family in their perversion. These towns, because they are rejecting the divine family of God’s kingdom, face an even worse penalty.
And when the disciples return from their mission, they still don’t quite get it. They’re excited that they could expel demons and perform miracles. It is amazing, but Jesus reminds them of something much more valuable, that their “names are written in heaven.” In other words, the display of power is nothing in comparison with the fact that they are counted among God’s family, able to love and be loved for all eternity.
So, what does this mean for us? It is a reminder to keep the family of God as our highest priority. This logic of love, of divine family, ought to permeate our entire lives from our personal decisions, to family life, to the way we engage with the wider culture.
We have to reject a worldly idea of power and efficiency – the promise of keeping everything completely personalized and individual. From the beginning of human history, meals and entertainment have been communal, familial. But now it’s all about the efficiency of giving each person their own space – my shows on my smartphone eating my pre-made meal while drinking my one cup of Keurig coffee. Privacy and personalization can be good, but we are becoming isolated. So, when it comes to the things that really matter, we have little to no experience of what it means to share, to compromise, to live in community. That’s part of the reason so many people turn to a “spiritual but not religious” approach to God. If everything from their job to their food is built around an individual experience, why not faith?
So, how do we respond? By making the family – the spiritual family – our priority. Eating together, working together, playing together, even when doing something on your own might be more fun, more convenient, more comfortable. Listen to these questions and reflect on how you can better contribute to a sense of spiritual family.
How often do you pray? How often with other people? Or do you use the excuse that other people are noisy and distracting?
How much control do sports have in your life? Is watching professional sports or participating in travel ball so important that you plan your week, your family, even your religion around it? How much time do you spend watching television or playing games? How much of that do you do alone or only through virtual connections?
How often do you choose to eat alone because you’d rather not wait for other people? Or because you’re not sure you’ll like what’s being served? How often do you specifically set aside time to be with other people? How often do you plan to have worthwhile conversations? – not just sharing gossip but setting aside times to talk about what’s best for your family and how you’re trying to grow in your faith.
If the apostles were to walk into our town proclaiming God’s kingdom, how would we respond? If we are living lives of efficiency and comfort, then we’d probably tell them to just leave us alone. But if we are living lives of community, of family, of openness to a divine relationship, then perhaps we’d rejoice with them, recognizing that they offer something far more valuable than convenience and comfort. And then we could be glad to know that our names, too, are written in heaven.
Thank you Father Albert!