The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A)

Whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so will be called least in the kingdom of heaven. But whoever obeys and teaches these commandments will be called greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

—Matthew 5:19

If someone asks you about “saints,” who comes to mind?

Is it great missionaries like Saint Paul or Saint Patrick?

Do you think of the founders of religious communities like Saint Benedict, Saint Francis of Assisi, or America’s own Saint Elizabeth Seton?

Perhaps you think of great champions of the poor like Saint Anthony of Padua, Saint Vincent de Paul, or Saint Teresa of Kolkata. Inspired women who called Church leaders and the faithful to reform their ways in their preaching and writing, like Saint Hildegard of Bingen, Saint Catherine of Siena, or Saint Teresa of Avila?

For those who might a bit more oriented toward theology and philosophy, Saint Augustine, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint John Henry Newman, or Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein) might top the list.

Unfortunately, when we begin to put saints into these kinds of categories, we lose a lot. We risk making them larger-than-life figures who can seem far away from our own experience. I think of a friend (a forty-year old wife and mother who is a gifted educator and administrator) who recently exclaimed, “Tell me the name of a saint who is a normal person… a lay person who was married with a normal life!”

When we tell the stories of the saints, we often speak in terms of grand narratives or specific acts of heroic charity or sacrifice (this is especially true of the martyrs). And yet, just like each of us, the lives of the greatest saints were filled with moments of quiet decision and commitment that don’t really make for great hagiography.

These days I find myself thinking more of the “little” saints. By that, I mean those women, men, and even children, who embodied the meekness and humility of Jesus in quiet acts of service and love.

When Thérèse Martin died in the Carmel of Lisieux, France, in 1897, no one would have imagined that only a few years later another saint, Pope Pius X, would call her “the greatest saint of modern times.” For older Catholics, Saint Thérèse is most especially known as the “Little Flower” or the “Saint of the Little Way.”

“Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.” –Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

The “secret” of Thérèse’s holiness is found in the Gospel for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A). In this passage, which is a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells us that he expects his followers to go beyond the demands of the Law—we can think of the basic rules of the Ten Commandments—and to focus on those little things that can build up or damage our relationships with God and those around us.

We can see this in the way Jesus addresses the commandment “You shall not kill.” We understand that. But Jesus doesn’t stop at this basic level. He continues: I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, and who ever says to his brother, ‘Raqa,’ will be answerable to the Sanhedrin, and whoever says, “You fool,” will be liable to fiery Gehenna. Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there recall that brother has anything against you, leave your gift there at the altar, go first and be reconciled with your brother.

“Saint Thérèse of Lisieux” by Emanuel Franco-Gomez, OCarm

(Image used with permission; all rights reserved.)

Jesus is telling us that a simple obedience to the Commandments isn’t enough for his followers. He expects us to reflect on our actions and our motivations, taking a deeper look within ourselves. And so, rather than focus on simply preventing murder, Jesus wants us to look at the anger that we often hold deep within, which can destroy relationships, even if it might not lead us to physically assault another person. The same can be said about Jesus’ comments about adultery. Instead of just condemning this sin and defending the rights of spouses or the dignity of marriage and the human person, Jesus wants his disciples to reflect on the lust and emptiness that can lead us to objectify others or to use them for our own pleasure, escape, or benefit.

Each of us has been endowed with the freedom from God to choose good or to choose evil. God, of course, wants us to always choose the good (see the First Reading, Sirach 15:15-20). The life and witness of Saint Thérèse reminds us, however, that this doesn’t necessarily require that we do extraordinary acts of penance or charity. Instead, in the end, choosing the good means to seek out how we can best serve God and care for those around us through the little sacrifices of our attentiveness, intentionality, kindness, and love.

As simple as this may seem, this is the path to holiness and how each of us can become the saint that God made us to be.