The Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)
Jesus said to his apostles:
"Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me,
and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;
and whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me.
Whoever finds his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
—Matthew 10:37-39
There are certain passages in Sacred Scripture that have the power to really catch us off guard, particularly when they seem to go against values or ideas that we hold dear.
The Gospel for this Sunday is certainly one of those texts.
How can Jesus question—let alone challenge—the love we have for others, especially those family ties that are most essential? How, we might ask, can this be part of God’s plan when the Fourth Commandment highlights how precious these relationships are?
To really understand what Jesus saying to us, we have to read these words in the context of the tenth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel, paying special attention to the theme of discipleship. With this in mind, this challenging text presents Jesus inviting his followers—including us—to ask ourselves what relationships are most important to us and to reflect on where and how we focus our energy and attention.
As disciples, our priority must be to learn from our Master Teacher. We are called to not only take his teachings to heart, but to also follow his example, making his way of life real in our own lives. When considered in this way, we recognize discipleship as the lifelong apprenticeship that it is. We can never stop listening or learning. And so, in a sense, in this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus is asking us, “How well are you listening?” and “Who are you listening to?”
“Think of those most precious to you, such as your parents or your children. Just as your love for them has expanded your heart in such a way that you would do anything for them, even more does love for Jesus fill us to overflowing, so that those who follow him could pour out their very lives for Christ’s little ones.”
-Sister Barbara Reid, O.P., in Abiding Word: Sunday Reflections for Year A
To help us understand what’s at stake, I propose the example of two very different saints: Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton and Saint Aloysius Gonzaga.
When Elizabeth Ann Seton (d. 1821) converted to Catholicism after the death of her beloved husband William, she could never have imagined that she, the mother of five children, would eventually become the founder of a new community of women religious, the first of its kind in the United States. And yet, as she grew in her own commitment to Christ and her relationship with the Catholic Church (she had been raised as an Episcopalian), she recognized that God was calling her to a unique form of discipleship. And so, while she continued to fulfill her responsibilities as a mother, sister, and aunt, she made the pursuit of that call her primary focus.
Did she love her children any less? Absolutely not. However, the way she loved them took a new form, as she entered more deeply into the mystery of who she was as “mother.” The witness and service of the Sisters of Charity serving in the United States today continues to testify to Mother Seton’s faith and commitment and of the way God accepted her gift of self, allowing her love for her family to expand as she came to embrace many other sisters, daughters and sons.
And as we think of the expansiveness of Saint Elizabeth Ann’s experience, we see this dynamic lived out in reverse in the life of the Saint Aloysius.
Aloysius was the eldest son and heir of the powerful Gonzaga Family. As a teenager, he discerned that God was calling him to life as a religious, but this would mean setting aside his title and inheritance, leading him into a bitter conflict with his father. Aloysius had to take a stand against the expectations that were placed upon him by his family, society (he was not only an Italian nobleman, but also a prince of the Holy Roman Empire), and even many in the Church. Aloysius always respected and honored his father and mother (who was an important presence throughout his life), but his relationship with his parents and siblings changed as he set aside his past life to begin life as Jesuit.
“What did Aloysius do with his lovely light? From surface facts, he did not contribute to world peace or environmental causes. He did nothing to save the dolphins or the Lombardy poplar or promote democratic government. Aloysius’ mission was in being rather than doing, and in following God’s will.”
-Ethel Pochocki, quoted in Saint Aloysius Gonzaga: With An Undivided Heart
In the end, his decision to give up his inheritance and titles to dedicate himself entirely to God wasn’t simply rejection of his family ties or responsibilities. His priorities had shifted, and he sought to give himself entirely to God because, as he wrote, “It is better to be a child of God than the king of the whole world.”
Like Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, Aloysius had found a kind of freedom that allowed him to live his relationships within the light of his love for and commitment to Christ. In the Spring of 1591, this freedom empowered him to pick up a plague-stricken man who had collapsed on a Roman street and carry him to a hospital. Because of this act of charity, Aloysius also contracted the disease and died only a few months later, at the age of 23.
Despite the differences in their personal stories, both Elizabeth and Aloysius testify to what is possible when we allow our disciple-commitment to Christ to inform and transform those relationships that are most important to us. We also have to recognize that this commitment means that we might be taken into places or be invited into encounters that we might not choose for ourselves. This is because, as Pope Francis has observed, when we live “in union with Jesus, we seek what he seeks and we love what he loves” (The Joy of the Gospel, no. 267). Only when this becomes real in our lives will we truly be what we are called to be: sharers in God’s expansive love, for the sake of the world.
O God, who through the grace of adoption
chose us to be children of light,
grant, we pray,
that we may not be wrapped in the darkness of error
but always be seen to stand in the bright light of truth.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever. Amen.
-Collect for the Thirteenth Week of Ordinary Time
